At the point of melting, he eased the kiss to a halt and brushed his lips over her jaw. “Shall we have a shower first?”
“You thought about everything, didn’t you?”
He reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. His naked chest was a work of art she itched to touch. Not able to hold back, she ran her palms over the deep lines that defined his abs, each one cut by hard, honest labor. Bending down she outlined them with her tongue, brushing her lips over the chiseled ridges and edges. A quiver ran over his ribs. His chest expanded. His erection was a steel rod trapped between their bodies. Thinking about the scene she’d witnessed in his bathroom, she planted a kiss on the head of his penis where it strained against his zipper. She needed to taste him.
He grabbed her head between his hands and gritted out, “Shower.” He swept his knuckles over her cheek. “The sun got to you. Your cheeks are red.”
“That’s not from the sun. That’s from thinking what I was going to do right before you stopped me.”
“Goddamn, woman.” He grabbed her hair and jerked her to him, his breath hot pants of air. “You’re dangerous.”
“I’m just honest.”
“I know what sunburn looks like, and there’ll be no more stopping when we’ve taken care of your skin in that water.”
“It’ll be cold.”
“I didn’t take you for a chicken.” He grinned and let go, starting to undo his pants.
There was no way she was giving him reason to call her a chicken. She mirrored his actions, removing her clothes as he was taking off his until they stood naked facing each other. His gaze moved over her, stopping on every curve and dip for a slow evaluation. A pec muscle flexed under the dusting of dark hair on his chest. His well-cut biceps bulged as he curled his fingers into fists, his eyes the color of smoke when they paused on her breasts. A ripple ran over his hard abdomen. His cock was proud and heavy, the thick length reaching up to his navel. It twitched as his gaze fixed on the patch of dark hair between her legs.
Despite the hunger that glittered in his eyes, he said, “Can you swim?”
“Of course I can swim.”
“It’s deep, and where the light doesn’t reach it’s dark. It can be scary, if you’re not use to it.”
He didn’t know she was used to swimming in slimy dams with frogs and the prickly moustaches of catfish. With a glance over her shoulder, she walked to the edge and dived. Shit! The water was cold, but it was revitalizing. A splash followed and then he caught her around her waist, pulling her naked body against his. Warm in the iciness of the water, his erection pressed against her spine and his balls against the curve of her ass. He kissed and nuzzled her neck, biting softly into the curve where it met her shoulder.
“Sara.” His voice was thick, laced with desire.
She turned in his arms so that her breasts brushed against him. The tickle of his chest hair stiffened her nipples. He lifted her legs around him and swam with her to the waterfall where he could stand on a protruding rock under the water.
“Lean back,” he said. “I’ll rinse your hair.”
When she arched her neck, he positioned her so that the spray tumbled over her hair. Drops splashed over her eyes and upper body. He held onto her waist with one hand while rinsing her hair with the other. His erection was trapped between her legs, wedging between her folds. He was hot and hard, and even in the water her arousal became evident, making the connection between their bodies slick. He had to have felt it, because he rubbed himself against her, moving his cock between the lubricated juncture of her legs.
She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were focused on her breasts where just her nipples reached above the water. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her to aid the friction. The movement made her breasts bounce. The skin on his cheekbones darkened as he watched, his eyes turning a feverish hue of hazy. Tension started building where he rubbed her clit up and down over the length of his penis. Her ass clenched, and her hips lifted of their own accord, arching toward him as her release came hard and unannounced.
“Wayne!”
Her voice echoed off the stone walls, chased by his harsh breathing.
“Did you come for me?” he asked when she rested her head on his shoulder.
She kissed the wet skin of his neck. “Yes.”
Seemingly satisfied, he deposited her on her feet and switched positions, quickly rinsing his hair. The task done, he took her shoulders and swam her to the side where towels were laid out on a rock. By now, her body was accustomed to the temperature and no longer cold, but she remembered what Bella had said about not soaking the tattoos for too long.
Wayne helped her onto the sand before he pushed himself out. After toweling her body and hair dry, he took a towel for himself and led her to the fire.
“Let’s get you warm,” he said.
Going down on her knees in the soft sand in front of him, she unwrapped the towel around his waist and let it drop to the ground. He watched her with hooded eyes, emotions sizzling in the dark depths, but he didn’t argue or deny her. He simply took her hair out of her face, twisted it into a ponytail, and used it to steer her mouth toward his cock.
“I’ll last longer with you if you suck me off.”
He made it sound so instructional, and yet, so hot. A drop of pre-cum eased over her tongue as she licked over the slit of the broad head. The warmth made a pleasant contrast to his cold skin. He shuddered, the intake of his breath sharp. She trailed her tongue over the length of him, first down and then up, cradling his sac in her hand. His testicles contracted when she took him in her mouth, stretching her lips wide. He twisted her hair tighter around his palm and started pumping his hips. After the morning’s foreplay and the tease in the water, he had to be desperate for release. She was, and she’d already climaxed twice. Letting him set the pace, she kept still, using her tongue to caress him while he pushed in and out of her mouth.
“Sara. God, yes. Ah, fuck. Now.”
His closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his face a grimace of pleasure. Hot jets of semen shot down her throat and coated her tongue. The taste was rough, wild, and erotic. He looked back at her with intense concentration, as if he was ingraining the image in his mind.
“Swallow for me,” he said in a guttural voice.
She swallowed around him. Two more jerks of his hips, and he was empty. He eased out of her mouth, his fingers running through her hair. They stayed like that for a while, her on her knees between his legs with her cheek cushioned on his groin while he played with her hair.
“I want to be inside you, Sara.”
His words jarred her, but not in an unpleasant way. It was so typically Wayne—honest without frills or pretenses.
“Then give me what we both want.”
He gave her a boyish, off-kilter grin and touched his soft cock. “You’ll have to give me a couple of minutes.”
“Oh. Of course.”
He dropped down onto the sleeping bag, pulling her into his lap. They sat quietly for a while, staring at the flames, content to bask in the afterglow of their orgasms. His palm stroked her shoulder, breast, hip, and thigh, as if he needed a constant physical point of contact, and she loved it.
“Cold?” he said, pulling her back to his chest and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
“No.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
He kissed her shoulder. “Don’t move.” From a small icebox in his backpack he fetched cheese, bread, fruit, and red wine. He poured a glass and handed it to her. “It’s not champagne but—”
“I prefer wine.”
He smiled and unscrewed the cap of a bottle of water for himself.
“You don’t drink?” She’d noticed before he didn’t drink alcohol.
“Not since the incident. I’d sworn then I’d never touch another drink.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He intertwined their fingers. “You
can always ask me anything.”
It was a big switch from the Wayne who’d told her she wasn’t his girlfriend, and he didn’t owe her any explanations. Did giving her carte blanche mean he saw her as more than a one-night stand, or was a glimpse inside his head and heart part of the perks that came with having sex? Whatever the reason, something between them had shifted, and even if she couldn’t put her finger on it, she knew it was huge.
This wasn’t the moment, but she needed to know. “Did you do it?”
He took a swig of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know.” The words were quiet and sinister with an undercurrent of desperation, like he wanted to know. “I can’t remember what happened.” He walked the cap of the bottle between his fingers. “I was drunk.”
“You must feel in your gut that you’re not capable of something like that.”
He gave her a pained look. “Aren’t I? Who knows what we’re truly capable of if all our wrong buttons are pushed? I want to believe I couldn’t have done it, that I’m not a monster, but there is always a tiny grain of doubt. I’m a possessive bastard. I was jealous of Mariana, especially after she cheated on me. Thinking of her with another man drove me insane. Seeing that baby in her arms, another man’s child, nearly killed me. I didn’t want the past to hang like a dark cloud over us, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t trust her. Our relationship was never easy and that didn’t help.”
He stared into the distance. “It took a long time for her family to accept me, and mine, well, they never gave us a chance. She had to bear the scorn and the gossip, the faces that turned the other way when she walked down the street. I wanted to spare her, and she accused me of hiding her because I was ashamed. The whole thing exploded that night when she told me she was pregnant with my child, but that she…” he inhaled deeply, “…that she didn’t want the baby. She couldn’t live the way we did, any longer. I was furious, thinking she’d leave me and deny me my child. Mariana was strong-willed. Once her mind was made up, there was no stopping her. Baby or not, I knew she’d leave.”
Too frightened to shatter the fragile moment, she said nothing, allowing him to talk while her heart broke for him and the woman and child he’d lost. It took a big man to survive all of that, and to come out of prison whole.
“When she started packing, I drove to the bar. I needed to cool down. It wasn’t going to be easy to let her go, but I was willing to listen, to understand what she truly wanted because I don’t think she even knew. I woke up the next morning, in my own bed, and the rest you probably know.”
“Wayne.” She touched his hand. “I’m sorry for making you relive that. I know this isn’t the right moment, but I want you to know I don’t believe you did it.”
“This is exactly the right moment. If we’re going to have sex, you need to know all the facts. I won’t blame you if you change your mind.”
“I haven’t changed my mind. I still want you.”
“Goddamn, Sara. Your trust will kill me. It’s the most precious thing someone has given me in a very long time.”
“You need to forgive yourself so you can move on, otherwise you’ll always be stuck in the past, consumed by your guilt.”
“I’m going to get behind the truth, that much I promise you. I won’t let you put your trust in a murderer. For years, I’ve avoided this because I couldn’t relive the moment, but it’s time the Therons spill the beans.”
“What do they have to do with it?”
“They testified at the hearing. I’ve always had a feeling there’s more than what they said.”
“Surely you can’t believe those scumbags?”
“They weren’t the only witnesses. There were others from the bar, too.”
His pain was palpable. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you.” She’d never meant those words more. “If I could take it all away or give her back to you, I swear to God, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.”
“Sara…” He leaned over and kissed the corner of her mouth. For some time, he only stared at her. Finally, he said gruffly, “Eat. You need your strength.”
She’d already stilled her hunger for food. What she needed was him. All of him. His beauty and his darkness, his pain, and his secrets. She lay down on her back between the flowers, their soft petals like velvet on her skin. Wayne shifted, his frame illuminated by the fire at his back. He didn’t say anything. He simply knelt between her thighs, bent her knees, and spread her legs wide. All of his attention focused on her bared folds. He used his thumbs to spread her open, rubbing the calloused digits around the insides of her labia and over her clit. In a second, she was wet for him. Lifting on her elbows, she looked at his face. He seemed consumed with his task, not aware of anything but the naked part of her body he held in his hands.
“So pretty,” he mused. He parted her folds with the tip of his finger, and pushed in slowly up to the first digit. Only then did he meet her eyes, measuring her reaction.
Her breath came faster. “Don’t stop, please. So good.”
A few shallow pumps and he slid his finger in all the way, stroking undiscovered nerve endings. Her hips lifted off the ground, her body gravitating toward him. He coated her folds with her arousal, and then a second finger joined the first.
He eased in and paused. “Tell me how this feels.”
“Full. Ah.”
He used his free hand to rub her clit while fucking her with his fingers, a slow and gentle pace. Heat washed over her body, warming her skin with a pleasant glow.
“Wayne!”
“That’s it, angel. Tell me.”
He stretched her, but not too much. Her eyes widened when he added a third finger. This time, her channel protested, the intrusion burning.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Fuller. Good.”
His pace was torturous. Pleasure unlike anything she’d felt before started building in the depths of her abdomen.
“More, please,” she panted.
“Goddamn, Sara.” His expression was tight as he twisted his hand instead of pumping. “I’m stretching you for my cock. The first time may hurt.” He removed his hand and took a foil packet from his backpack. “Tell me if I have to stop.”
After fitting a condom, he lowered his body over hers and took his erection in his hand, guiding his cock to her entrance. He parted her carefully, lodging only the head inside, but he was broad, and it burned more than his fingers.
She gasped, an inexplicable need to have him inside of her all the way overtaking her. She lifted her hips, trying to take more, but he entered her slowly, moving no more than an inch at a time, waiting for her channel to lubricate them before pushing deeper. His face was tight with concentration. Control was evident in the angular lines of his jaw as he clenched it tightly.
“Move,” she said, urging him on when she’d adjusted to his size. “I’m ready.”
He shook his head. A drop from his wet hair exploded on her chest. His tanned skin glistened with perspiration in the bronze glow of the candles. His body was large and powerful, engulfing hers and making her feel vulnerable, but she also felt safe. All of his senses were focused on giving her pleasure and preventing her from suffering discomfort.
“Tell me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Speak to me.”
“Good. Too good.”
He gripped her hips and pulled her to him, taking her a bit harder. The pressure had a new need wind around her abdomen like a squeezing fist.
“Wayne, I’m… Oh, God.”
“Come with me, Sara.” He moved faster, his strokes still gentle but more relentless.
The orgasm was prolonged this time, lasting much longer than the first, intense one in the water. A second later he joined with a groan, his face twisted into a wild grimace of pleasure. He fell over her body, breathing hard, keeping his weight on his elbows.
“Sara.” He kissed her lips. “Tell me.”
“Amazing.” She closed her eyes in
bliss. “Simply amazing.”
He didn’t pull out immediately. Only when her muscles cramped from staying in the same position for too long did he free his cock. He discarded the condom in the trash bag and lay down next to her, arranging the sleeping bag over their bodies. She floated in a state of contentedness for a long time. She was almost drifting off when he said, “I think I’ve found a way to get around the land reclaim.”
Fully awake now, she turned in his embrace to face him. “Why didn’t you say so before?”
“I was too preoccupied with this.” He cupped her sex, running his fingers through the trimmed hair.
“How?”
“I went to see Dumile.”
“And?”
“He agreed to denounce the land.”
She sat up. “Denounce the land? But they have a rightful claim to it.”
“And I don’t?”
“Where will they go? What will happen when the fences go up?”
“I asked Dumile to come live on my land.”
She clutched the sleeping bag to her chest. “What did he say?”
“Nothing, yet. He said he’d worry about that when the time comes.”
“If you can convince them to move peacefully, then all will be solved.”
“Hopefully.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your plan?”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome there.” He paused, playing with a strand of her hair. “Mariana was Dumile’s daughter.” He added quietly, “He’s my father-in-law.”
Her heart jerked. “You said you didn’t marry Mariana.”
“We were married by Xhosa tradition. By our law, no.”
“You thought he’d blame you?”
“I thought worse. I believed the tribe might kill me, but Dumile wasn’t vengeful.”
“That’s why you didn’t want to go. What made you change your mind?”
“You.” His eyes ran over her. “You and your limitless love for those elephants.”
She touched his shoulder. “It must make you feel better, now that you know.”
Scapulimancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 7) Page 19
