Wild Love

by Lauren Accardo

  Her name on his tongue was heaven. If she didn’t move, she’d explode. Her skin would erupt into flames and she’d die on this couch. Sydney Walsh. Daughter, friend, sickeningly horny for Sam Kirkland.

  “I know we’d talked about doing a clothed activity together,” she said, “but I’m ready to abandon the non-naked hang. Unless my embarrassingly unsexy outfit killed your appetite?”

  He flashed a smile. “I’ve never seen you in anything unsexy. Ever.”

  “Oh, please,” she laughed. “My wardrobe up here is so bad. Layers upon layers, sweatshirts upon sweatshirts.”

  He tilted his head and raised one eyebrow. “White T-shirts. Tight jeans.” He licked his lower lip and added, “Pink lace bras.”

  As if a switch flipped, all the hairs on her body stood on end. The look in his eye was undeniable. Pure hunger. His gaze dropped to her chest.

  “See, the thing about the cold weather up here,” he said, “is that you might be all layered up, but discovering whatever is underneath feels like finding treasure.”

  He inched closer to her, combing the hair away from her face. His fingers lingered on the curve of her jaw and then traced down her neck, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

  “I have so much to learn from you,” she said, a smile playing on her lips. “Tell me more, Mountain Man.”

  He closed the last inch of space between them and covered her mouth with his, sliding his fingers along the nape of her neck and pulling her close. She sunk into the kiss, reveling in the taste of him. Sweetness and salty skin. She traced her tongue lightly along his and curled her fingers around his thigh.

  He pulled away enough to speak, but not so far that his lips were fully removed from hers. “You might be more of a visual learner.”

  She led him into her bedroom and closed the door, submerging them in a pool of darkness. He stood in the center of the room, the green glow of her alarm clock lighting him from behind.

  Anticipation rippled through her, and before she stepped toward him, she willed herself to relax. Get out of your own head. He’s beautiful. And he likes you. Enjoy him.

  “Syd, last time—”

  “No,” she said. “Last time was just me being stupid. You don’t care if I’m five pounds heavier now than I was in October. I’m not some insecure idiot who weighs herself every day and skips the bread on the turkey club, you know?”

  Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and his teeth gleamed as his lips pulled into a smile. “You’re right, I don’t care. But that’s not what I was gonna say.”

  She swallowed. “Oh.”

  He stepped slowly toward her and placed his hands on her hip bones, working his thumbs underneath the elastic waist of her sweatpants and tracing the edge of her thong.

  “I want to just enjoy you. And make you feel good. Okay?”

  The breath rushed out of her lungs. Oh, is that all? “Okay.”

  “Whatever you like, let’s do it. Whatever you don’t like, we’re not doing it.”

  “Good, ’cause what I’d like is to go back in the living room and watch the game.”

  His grin grew wider, and his thumbs sunk lower. “Non-naked hang time is officially over.”

  Tired of the layers of clothing between them, she yanked off her sweatshirt in one swift movement and revealed a thin white tank top underneath. He released a strangled exhale as his eyes lit on her chest.

  She grabbed the edges of his T-shirt and pushed the fabric up and over his flat abs, past his smooth chest, and over his head. The curves of his torso were too much to ignore, and she leaned forward to trace his collarbone, the graphic flower tattoo, and his stomach with her tongue. With every inch of delicious skin, her senses heightened.

  He ran a hand through her hair as she rested on her knees and loosened his belt buckle, popping the button on his jeans once she had access.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice raspy. “Only what you want to do.”

  “Mm, this I’m sure about.”

  She held his gaze for a lingering moment before tugging at his zipper and pulling his jeans past his knees. His muscular thighs flexed and lengthened, no doubt waiting for her touch, and she traced her fingernails up through the smattering of hair on his legs toward the promised land.

  His strangled breaths came in regular intervals as she ran her fingers under the legs of his boxer briefs, momentarily brushing his taint. He shuddered and ran a trembling hand through her hair.

  Some aspects of her previous sex life she was happy to forget. This wasn’t one of them. She wanted to make him feel good, too, and bring him to the edge of explosive pleasure. As she dragged his boxer briefs past his hips and the firm, rounded curve of his ass, he released a muffled moan. Exactly what she’d hoped for.

  His erection bobbed in front of her, begging to be touched, and she wrapped one hand around the base, anticipation at the taste of him urging her onward. She looked up into his eyes one last time before slipping the soft tip over her lips and licking the head, gently at first.

  She dragged her lips from the base to the tip, letting her tongue touch every half inch as he moaned. With a single expletive from his lips, she dipped the length of his erection into her mouth, wrapping him in velvety warmth.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered. “Go slow. Please, go slow.”

  She obliged, slowing her rhythm to a lazy, back and forth motion that still left him twitching against her. She trailed the fingertips of her other hand down the back of his thigh until he slowly pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, gazing up at him. Had she accidentally dragged him with her teeth?

  “Nothing,” he said. “But if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come, and that’s not how I want this to end.”

  She stood to meet him, and he dropped his chin, resting his mouth on hers. He sucked on her bottom lip as his hands encircled her waist, fingers dropping to rest on top of her ass. With his erection pressing into her belly, he drew her hips into him and circled her tongue with his.

  He ran his hands under her tank top and yanked it over her head, only breaking the kiss to let the fabric pass between them and to stare unabashedly at her chest.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. Her stomach caved at the compliment, not entirely believing it. There was enough conviction in his voice, however, enough fire in his eyes, to push her toward it.

  He sank down to his knees, peppering kisses across her chest and the chasm between her breasts. When he arrived at her sweatpants, he unknotted the tie and slipped them down her legs.

  He lifted his face to hers and licked his lower lip as every bit of electricity in the universe shot into her chest. Every time a man had gotten close to her sex she’d clammed up and either faked it or pushed him away. Now Sam hovered over it, tracing his fingers along the front of her thong while never losing her gaze, and she wanted his mouth on her more than anything.

  “Can I take this off?” he asked. Her clit beat like a drum under the damp fabric of her white cotton thong. Should she let him try? Get out of your head and go with it, you idiot. Look at his face.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He hooked his hands in the lacy straps and tugged, the middle of the thong catching where she was already soaked. All she wanted was him. For now, and for forever. If they could do this for the rest of her life, she’d die without another want in the world.

  He tossed her thong aside and looked up at her again with those deep chocolate pools nestled under thick, dark eyebrows. Nerves fluttered in her belly as she waited for his mouth to find her clit, waited for the slick lash of his tongue against her heat.

  Instead, his fingers floated up the outer edges of her thighs as he rose to meet her and kissed her gently. Her breasts filled his calloused palms as if fitting back into the mold they’d been crafted in. The nerves subsided. Maybe he’d sensed her fear and
backed off.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, lazily tracing his thumb over her nipple. The pink bud tightened further, and she nearly pulled back, her flesh as sensitive as it had ever been.

  “Insanely good,” she said, burying her face in his neck. “God, you smell incredible. I could bite you.”

  “Do it.”

  She pulled back to look at him and smiled at the joke.

  “I’m not kidding,” he said, although a grin tugged at one corner of his full mouth. “Do it.”

  “Crazy boy.”

  With deep-set eyes, he lowered his face to her breast and closed his teeth around her nipple, tugging and sucking until a choked moan floated past her lips. He tightened his bite as the pain and pleasure became indistinguishable, and suddenly an orgasm built deep within her.

  “Holy shit,” she gasped, placing a hand on his solid pec. He pulled away with a pleased grin on his lips and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

  “I guess she likes that.”

  Who was this man? His only concern was pleasing her. She’d never met anyone like him. The yearning grew deeper.

  She clasped her fingers behind his neck, savoring the sensation of his thick, soft hair between her knuckles. If this was somehow wrong, she didn’t care. His eyes landed squarely on hers and pulled another soft moan from her lips.

  “Do you have a condom?” he asked.

  Her face collapsed. “Ugh. No, I don’t. I definitely didn’t pack any when I left New York, and it’s not the type of thing I can pop into Pine Ridge Drugs for.”

  He brushed his lips across hers and gripped her hips, the length of his cock teasing her again. Whether they had a condom or not, she couldn’t stop now. The magnetic pull between them was out of her control.

  “Is it weird to rifle through Jorie’s stuff in case she has one?” she asked, trailing a hand down his taut chest and resting at his hip bone. The curve of his hip careened into the dip of his pelvis, and every muscle stood out in brilliant, beautiful contrast. She’d never even seen him work out. But this kind of body was earned.

  “Is it weird,” he countered, “to already know where she keeps them?”

  Her head jerked backward. If he was about to tell her he’d slept with Jorie, she didn’t know if she could take it.

  “It’ll kill this insanely sexy mood we’ve got going here if I tell you the whole story,” he said, “but I walked in on Matt and Jorie once doing it in the living room.” He blinked the repulsion back and shook his head. “Needless to say, they had a little box open on the floor next to them overflowing with condoms, and I’ve seen that box under her bathroom sink.”

  “Oh yeah, the little wooden box? With the gold clasp?”

  “That’s the one.”

  She pressed her lips against him for good measure before scurrying out of the guest room and across the hall to Jorie’s bathroom. The cabin only had one small bathroom, and Jorie was gracious enough to share it with her new houseguest. The last thing Sydney wanted was to betray Jorie in any way, but at the moment, she had one thing on her mind.

  She dug beneath the bathroom counter and came up with the little wooden box. She popped the clasp and, sure enough, tucked inside were enough condoms to last through a very cold, long winter. She plucked one from the masses and almost closed the box before she thought better and grabbed two more.

  When she returned to the darkened bedroom, Sam was reclined on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. His long, smooth erection rested on his flat stomach, beckoning her like a call to serve.

  “Grabbed a couple,” she said, feeling once again like an awkward teenager. “Just in case.”

  His eyes lit up. “Very, very smart thinking.”

  She placed the gold foil condom packets on the nightstand and took in a shaky breath. There was nothing to be anxious about, no hurdles to jump. His gaze was honest and true. And yet the nerves still churned.

  “Come here,” he said, pushing himself toward the wall to give her maximum space next to him. “It’s been a minute since I shared a twin bed, but it’s kind of cozy, right?”

  She kneeled on the bed, and he raised a hand to her stomach, letting his cool fingers slide across the skin and trail over the space between her hip bones. He laid his palm flat and ran his thumb across her belly button.

  “You have the softest skin,” he said. His dreamy eyes met hers, and all the tension relaxed out of her once more. Whatever he did, whatever spell of compliments and kindness he put on her, it worked.

  She leaned forward, holding his scruffy cheek as she kissed his lips. His hand, still resting on her stomach, began its slow journey south until his index finger brushed the folds of her sex. A yelp escaped her lips, and his brow furrowed.

  “That hurt?” he asked.

  “No.” She exhaled. RE. LAX. Maybe the next time she saw him she’d take a tranquilizer in advance. “It didn’t hurt at all. I’m just so sensitive.”

  “I know.” His face melted into a grin again. “I fucking love it.”

  He moved over farther, toward the wall, inviting her to rest on the bed. He made all the right moves, backed off whenever she needed. It was more foreign to her than if he’d danced around like a monkey and expected her to orgasm from that.

  “Come here,” he said. Reclined on the bed, he trailed his fingers lightly across her breasts, down her stomach, and farther down to where her thighs were clenched. They opened for him as if by command.

  “Is that okay?” he asked, his breath hot on her ear. She exhaled a positive response, not sure what she said or if it mattered.

  The pads of his fingers slicked over her wetness and dipped just past her lips. The touch was brief but electric, and when he slid back again, she opened farther for him. On the third pass, she ached for more contact.

  “Look at me,” he urged, mumbling directly into her ear again.

  Her eyelids cracked, and there he was, that beautiful face hovering over hers. All the emotion and desire and want she’d always been so scared of radiated from that face. As he brushed her lips with his, his fingers slipped inside her.

  “Oh God,” she breathed.

  “Good? Or not good?”

  “So unbelievably good.” Two long fingers slid easily past her entrance, and she bucked her hips against his wrist, careful to avoid her clit. If he brushed it, even gently, she might shatter all over him, and she wasn’t ready yet.

  He removed his fingers, and as soon as they were gone, she missed them with a hollow ache. His thumb pressed gently against her sex, rocking back and forth in a concentrated effort that forced her eyes closed again.

  “Good?”

  “God yes,” she groaned. “But I’m afraid I’m gonna come.”

  “Afraid?” His lips dropped to her ear, and he took her earlobe into his mouth, sucking in perfect rhythm with the two fingers that had slipped back inside her. “Go ahead and come, baby. I’ll do it again. And next time it’ll be totally different.”

  With each word from his lips, the pressure built. The heat from his breath and the rough motion of his wrist and the occasional brush of his thumb over her impossibly sensitive flesh made her head spin.

  “No,” she said, her breath ragged. “I don’t want to come like this. I want to come with you inside me.”

  He dragged his fingers out of her and repositioned himself so instead of lying next to her, he hovered over her. His weight balanced on the tips of his toes and the palms of his hands in an erotic plank that dragged the tip of his cock across her hips.

  She placed a hand on either side of his powerful hips and pulled him down to lay on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress and consuming her. She drowned in him, and she’d never been happier to lose herself.

  “I have never wanted someone so much,” she said, breathing the words into his ear as h
e cocooned against her. He lifted his head and ran a thumb across her eyebrow, down her cheekbone, and over her lips. She tasted herself on his hand and opened her mouth to welcome his thumb.

  She closed her lips over his thumb and sucked, gently rolling her tongue over the appendage. His eyes rolled back just before the lids closed behind them, and when she moaned against his hand, his hips dug into hers.

  “Please,” she begged. “I need you inside me.”

  He slapped at the nightstand, desperately grasping for a condom, and when he found one, she plucked it from his hand.

  “Lift up,” she said. The confused brows relaxed on his face as he realized what she meant and pressed back into the plank, each lean, curved muscle in his biceps popping out in stark relief. She tore open the foil packet and rolled the condom on, taking extra time to squeeze gently as she smoothed out the slick latex.

  He used the tip of his cock to press down on her clit, subtly gyrating his hips until her eyes closed and she gasped. “Okay, okay,” she breathed. “God, please do it already. I’m dying here.”

  With one firm press at her entrance, Sam slid inside Sydney, filling her up completely. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. His hips moved against her, slowly at first and gaining momentum as he went.

  He rested his weight on his forearms, framing her face between them. The intense friction of his perfectly proportioned cock sliding in and out of her combined with the rolling rhythm of his pelvis brought her senses to epic heights.

  She lifted her knees to straddle his waist, and he dove deeper still. Sweat collected on her lip, and before she could do something about it, his tongue lashed out and lapped it up. Her eyes flew open to find his flushed, creased face staring directly into hers. There was nothing precious about this moment. Whatever sweetness came before, and whatever would come after, didn’t belong in the primal emotions coursing through them now.

  Her gaze traveled down his chest to the abs rippling as he held his body above hers. But she wanted to feel him, really feel him.