Surviving Love

by K. F. Breene

  “Please,” she said, sobbing, clutching his sweatshirt.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly, rocking her. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  Something deep and forgotten started to pulse, a relic from their childhood. The thing that had started to bud before he’d left, but never seen its day. She breathed in his tantalizing smell. His strong arms wrapped around her possessively. His deep voice throbbed into her body.

  “Mikey,” she whispered, her sex aching. Her body craving him to fill hers. “Please.”

  And then it happened. Almost out of nowhere.

  Glorious heat unfurled within her. So deep it reached to the base of her being, opening up, spilling light and heat throughout her body. The seed that had been planted so long ago matured and expanded, rocking her. She gasped as ten thousand pricks of fire danced across her skin. Electricity sparked and sizzled between them, humming into her chest, making her heart hammer.

  She stared up in wonder at his unbelievably striking face, better looking than most Hollywood stars. More honest than any man she’d ever known. He was so solid, and steadfast, yet as wild as they came. Her Mikey. A rock among the waves of life, keeping her rooted.

  He was smart enough to achieve whatever he wanted, but he came here, to the wilds of Montana. He’d come to the place she’d always dreamed to live in order to buy some land and raise a family. To train a wild mustang. To live off the land.

  He was living her dream. And now inviting her to live it with him.

  Speech eluded her. All she knew was this feeling. This intense, soul-gripping feeling of freefall. It was like being burned alive with pleasure. Of feeling so deeply rooted that she could reach the center of the earth… but weightless. It was hard to breathe with the joy bursting through her ribcage.

  She was almost afraid to open her eyes to this feeling. Afraid she’d realize that the freefall was directly for a concrete slab. That this rush would end in a pain she couldn’t come back from. At the same time, there was no way she’d hide from something this pure. This was as real as it got.

  She slid her hand along his stubble, rough against her palm. She rose up on her knees slowly until her face was level with his. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his. So soft.

  “Are you sure?” he murmured, his hands slipping to her hips. They applied pressure, but he seemed undecided if he meant to push her away, or keep her close.

  She answered with her lips, connecting them with an emotion so much deeper than lust. Deeper than she’d ever experienced. Her mouth opened to his, needy. Insistent.

  She couldn’t hold back. The craving intensified; she was desperate for his body. To feel him inside her again.

  She ripped at his pants, unconcerned with the cold. Yanking at his fly, she panted into his mouth, arching so his hands could slip into her shirt and under her bra. He teased her nipples and nibbled her lips while she ripped at his pants, yanking them down his muscular thighs. She slipped his boxer briefs down a moment later, glancing down at his large manhood as it sprang free.

  Frantic, she worked at her own pants, wanting to be naked. Immediately. Not caring about the dirt. Just wanting—

  A warm tongue licked her hard nipple.

  “Oh my God…” she groaned, her head falling back. His mouth enveloped her, sucking to the point of pain, having her loudly moaning toward the top of the wickiup. He yanked her pants down, sucking her nipple while working a finger between her wetness, rubbing just right.

  “Oh, Mikey,” she said, incapable of moving.

  His digit rubbed against her slickness before pushing up into her slowly, friction against the inside. Two more plunges, faster, before he used two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slippery sex. His mouth moved to the other nipple, the chill of the night offsetting the blistering pleasure.

  His tongue manipulated while his fingers worked, spirals of heat swirling around her body. His thumb pushed against her clit. The friction increased. Her body tightened up. Her fists clenched and unclenched, breath coming in fast pants.

  Her moans sounded like pleas. Her sighs like groans.

  He licked in lazy swirls while his thumb worked. While his fingers moved faster. Hitting the right spot on her inside wall. Increasing the friction. Tightening her core.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Oh God, Mikey. Oh—oh God. Oh my God. Oh freaking God. Oh, Mikey, oh!”

  With her scream of triumph, her body blasted apart, an explosion rocketing in her groin and reverberating throughout her limbs. Tingles fizzled along her bones as her nerves began to sing. She filled her lungs and sank against Mikey’s hard chest.

  “Let me just stoke the fire,” he said softly, delivering a slow, tender kiss. “Then we’ll knock out another one.”

  “Hmmm,” she replied, falling forward on her hands and knees. Lying down on dirty grasses didn’t seem like a great plan with exposed, sensitive areas.

  And then, a moment later, she didn’t have to.

  Even though his hands were coarse from working outside, they felt like velvet against her bare skin. One hand moved up to lightly grip her shoulder, raising her up so her back was against his front.

  “I’d love to do this with less clothes, but under the circumstances…” He had a laugh in his voice that barely covered the deep, husky desire. His lips grazed her throat to her shoulder as his soft tip slid along her slit. He kissed the base of her neck before running his lips up to her ear.

  His blunt tip parted her folds as his hot mouth took in her earlobe.

  “Oh,” she sighed, dropping her head so it rested against his shoulder. She reached back and gripped his thighs.

  His hips moved forward ever so slowly, barely entering her body. He backed out and rubbed the tip along her slit again, getting nice and slick. He ran his tongue down her neck, tickling her. Playful. His tip nudged her again, in further this time, tantalizing her outer nerve endings. Building anticipation.

  She squirmed, needing a firm thrust. Wanting his hard length inside her. Needing it now.

  His dark chuckle filled their shelter. Clearly he could feel her frustration.

  Teeth lightly scraped against her skin, giving her shivers. Mr. Nice Guy wanted to let his hair down; he was tired of velvet gloves.

  A smile worked up her face, her body hot and cold, her fingers squeezing his thighs. “Please, Mikey,” she begged, moving her hips in a circle.

  That blunt tip worked in a little further as he sucked a spot on her neck. A large hand worked up her shoulder to the base of her neck. His kisses became lighter—nothing more than warm breath on her skin. Trapping her to him, he once against crested her folds. Shallow. Teasing.

  “Please,” she begged, losing control. Frenzied, she tried to sit down on him. He held her tightly, not letting her. She wiggled and moved, that insistent tip just at the surface. Tantalizing.

  The hand on her hip worked around her front, his fingers finding her clit. His tip pushed in further, but not enough. He pulled out. His fingers worked faster.

  “Oh-hh.” It was more a sound than a word. Inarticulate.

  He sucked on her neck again, harder. Pain blossomed into pleasure as he let up, cold air assaulting the place where his hot mouth had been a second ago. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

  He blew softly on the throbbing skin as his fingers gained speed.

  “Oh!” she screamed as an unexpected orgasm rolled through her. Her body shook and quaked like she was in an electric chair. Shock waves rumbled through her, making her eyes roll back in her head. “Oh my… fu… huh… gaw…”

  “What was that?” he asked against her skin with a thick voice.

  “Hmmmaaa…”

  Just stop trying to talk.

  Those tricky fingers started again, skipping the slow step and immediately setting her on fire again. She went from cool down to warmed up with the flick of his digits.

  “Can’t. No more,” she begged, her body screaming. Hot. Cold. Hot aga
in. Tightening up. Her swelled sex was aching. Her breath came in hoarse pants. “Please.”

  “One more,” he said with a husky voice, labored. He’d held back all this time for her. Kept control. But she could tell he was finally ready to let loose.

  With a firm hold on her shoulder, his other arm around her with his fingers still massaging her sex, he held her in place. Her stomach fluttered; she knew what would come next.

  With one last, soft kiss, he thrust, filling her. Stretching her. His girth invaded her body with sinful delight.

  “Oh!”

  So big. It felt so, so good.

  “Ooohhh.” She fell forward this time, wanting him deeper. On all fours, head hanging, she arched her back.

  He leaned over her, thrusting. Filling her over and over. Rubbing parts that only one person had managed to find before—him. Fingers still massaging to make sure she got where she needed to go, his skin slapped against hers in fast, rhythmic pulses. She pushed back with each thrust, that feeling deep inside her starting to glow. Making the sensations more exquisite. More extreme.

  She moved her hips in a circle as he pushed and retreated, hitting more areas, her insides squeezing his. Clutching him tightly. The friction grew more intense. Hotter. The feeling inside her expanded. Filled her as he was filling her. Consumed her with love.

  “Mikey,” she said, tears springing to her eyes. Heat and joy and bliss made her laugh even as the tears fell.

  He leaned down over her, his body resting against hers, his hands squeezing her tight.

  “I love you, Sara,” he said as he moved within her.

  That deep feeling reached her heart and swelled in her chest, attaching to their lovemaking and pushing her into another plane. Another place entirely, where there was no ground. No sky. Just him and her, joined.

  He plunged deeper into her body even as he worked deeper into her heart. She covered his hand with hers where it rested on the ground. His fingers came up, making room for her to intertwine hers. He exerted over her as she pushed back to him, harder and deeper, bodies laboring.

  Her breath filled their makeshift home. She moaned as the feelings intensified. Her body tightened up, almost there.

  A moment later Sara exploded, the pieces of her body flying apart, scattered. Exposing that raw vulnerability that had only ever been shown to Mikey. Also exposing the fierce, determined little girl that would brave anything if Mikey was by her side.

  “Sara!” Mikey groaned, hugging her tight as he shook over her.

  They were each other’s strength when the storms became too dark and wild. Each other’s courage when the bullies came in numbers. And one another’s salvation when life was too rough or delivered them a hard hit. Always had been. Always would.

  “Told you you’d fall in love with me,” Mikey said softly as he helped her pull up her pants before guiding her down in front of him and wrapping his body around hers tightly.

  “You know what happens when you win an argument,” she said. “I won’t be easy on you just because you happen to know my body better than I do.”

  “We’ll see.” He chuckled.

  Chapter 18

  Mike came to consciousness in an instant, as was usual when he was in the wild. Immediately he homed in on his surroundings: Sara’s warm body pushed up against him, the sprinkle of daylight through the roof of the wickiup, and the smoldering fire just outside their shelter.

  He listened.

  Sara’s soft breath, deep and heavy, blended beautifully with the melodious sound of birds around the clearing. No snuffling, which meant a bear was unlikely to be close. Birds quietly chirping meant no worse predators. They were alone for the moment.

  A wave of hunger rolled through his body, complemented by a dry mouth. They needed to get up and find food. Today Jake would activate the GPS and decide if Mike needed to be picked up. Seeing him still in the middle of nowhere would bring a yes. The problem was, by the time all that came about, the day would nearly be over. They shouldn’t be expecting to be picked up until tomorrow at the very earliest.

  Another day of hunger. Of constant anxiety that something would happen to Sara.

  What fun.

  He dug his face into her neck, smiling at the love bite he’d left the previous night. If they’d had their teens together, he would’ve given her a million of those. Fumbling into physical intimacy together, they would’ve made out for hours, too afraid to touch each other, but desperate to all the same. Then, edging into adulthood, he would’ve been her first. Even if they fought half the time, trying to push for independence and freedom, hormones making them crazy, they would still have been together. Shared all their firsts together. Laughed and cried in each other’s arms, bracing each other for the next milestone.

  Instead, that useless prick Phil took all her innocence. And then tarnished it, turning her sweet trust into pain and insecurity.

  If he ever came face to face with Phil, there would be words.

  Mike kissed her softly and slid his hand up her leg and over the swell of her hip. Fingers ducked under her sweatshirt and found soft skin.

  “Hmmm,” she moaned, turning her face back to his. Her eyes opened slowly. As her gaze connected with his, softness stole her expression, making his heart ache.

  She’d found the deep well within her that would always connect them. Mike knew exactly what it felt like. He’d found the same thing when he stared death in the face, his mind turning to the one thing on this earth he couldn’t live without. He’d covered it up for a long time when he had to move away—camouflaged the feeling in order to survive the long nights and dismal years to follow—but looking down the barrel of a gun, saying goodbye to life…

  “Hi,” he said, bending forward to kiss her tenderly.

  She rolled onto her back and looped an arm around his neck, then kissed him back with the same feeling. She hadn’t said she loved him last night, but she would. It would come, on her own time.

  “I hope my breath doesn’t smell as bad as yours, or I’m going to need a medal,” she said against his lips, her mouth curving up into a smile.

  “How about a plaque? I think I have a few of them lying around my house.”

  “Hmm. We’ll have to get back to your house first.”

  “A day or so. One or two more days should see us through. No problem.”

  Her lips nibbled, getting acquainted with his kiss. She licked his bottom lip, and then took advantage of his opened mouth, playfully flicking her tongue. The kiss deepened, the play turning needy. Her arms pulled at him, dragging his body over hers.

  Suddenly there wasn’t any time. It had to happen now. He had to be inside her with a ferocity he couldn’t understand.

  He ripped and fumbled at her jeans, working around her as her hands yanked at his buttons. Their kiss became fevered and intense, wild. She reached into his pants and grasped his erection. He moaned into her mouth, yanking her pants down her hips. He braced himself with one hand as she lifted up, allowing him to tug them off the rest of the way.

  He lay down between her thighs, finding her opening and thrusting in with one desperate, animalistic plunge.

  “Oh God!” She clutched him with her legs.

  He thrust into her. And again. Her hips swung up to meet him, her softness meeting his with a wet slap. Panting filled the wickiup, skin meeting skin. Rhythmic and erotic, her muscles starting to constrict. Her fingers clutched at him and her moaning got louder.

  Harder he strove, slamming into her now, the friction so intense he could barely keep going. Keep from freezing up, overwhelmed with the sensations.

  “Al…most… Mike…y,” she panted, her eyes squeezed shut. Her head rocked from side to side.

  Her hips pumped upward in concise thrusts, sucking him in, then pressing him back out. Driving him crazy. Spinning his mind. Pushing him past—

  “Oh, Sara!” he said, blasting into her with everything he had. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t warn her.

  Then it d
idn’t matter.

  “Ooohhhhhh!” she squeaked with delight, her eyes fluttering as her sex crushed him in the most satisfying of ways.

  They settled for a moment, coming down off their high.

  “My breath is as bad as yours,” she said in a soft tone. “I can smell my spit on your face.”

  “That’s… lovely.”

  “Yeah. I’m a helluva lady.”

  Huffing out a laugh, he rolled off her, knocking into the shelter. Careful not to damage it, he tucked his feet in and awkwardly pulled up his pants. He badly needed a—

  “Shower,” she said, finishing his thought.

  “I hate when you do that.”

  “State the obvious? Well, someone has to, or else you’d run around clueless all the time.”

  “Oh goodie, this Sara is back. I thought I’d left her behind all those years ago.” With a smile, he rolled over to give her a quick kiss before getting up, only to slow at the suddenly serious expression on her face. “What?”

  “You did,” she said softly, eyes reaching through him and clutching his soul. “You did leave her behind. This girl. I wasn’t the same after you left. I didn’t ever find myself again. I realize that now. I turned my mom into a worrier. I…” She shook her head, her gaze delving, touching that special place in the middle of his gut that no one else had ever been able to reach.

  He ran a thumb down her dirt-smeared cheek. Even filthy, she was a knockout. “Me too,” he said. “I stuffed the pain down and kept going, vowing to marry you someday. Swearing to be a better husband than my father ever was. A much better dad. I was barely on the other side of puberty, but I couldn’t wait to lock you down. Except the pain was so much that I eventually stopped feeling it.”

  Sara’s brow crumpled. “To lock me down? You thought about locking me up and domesticating me? Is that how you roll, Mikey Frost, ’cause there is no way that tomfoolery is going to fly with me. If anyone’s locking anyone up, it’s me slapping you in handcuffs, not the other way around.”

  Mike couldn’t help the jubilation, making him lightheaded with mirth. This was it. This girl. Joking and laughing and making fun of each other. Friends, lovers, each one half of a mud pie.