The Cajun's Captive [Stormy Weather 1]

by Selena Blake

  He wanted to devour every inch of her.

  Kiss the undersides of her breasts.

  Lick her pussy dry.

  Nibble his way down her thighs all the way to her toes.

  "What are you doing?” she called.

  "T'in ya up,chérie."

  "Why?” She sounded slightly panicked.

  He returned and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. When she saw the rope in his hands, her eyes squinted and he could tell she was more angry than panicked.

  "You are not tying me up again Sebastian."

  "You can't touch me, not yet. I'm too on edge—"

  "I want you on edge,” she said, her voice almost a purr.

  "Dammit, Amanda. You make me crazy. I've never been this hard before, and I don't want to hurt you. You're small and sweet and delicate and I'm tough and—"

  "But I want you all hard and tough.” She teased his nipples with her fingertips and he stifled a groan. She didn't understand what she was messing with. His baser instincts were barely in check.

  "You say that but—” he trailed off, half afraid of something he couldn't even put a name to.

  "What?"

  "I don't want to scare you."

  As quickly as he blinked, she hurled herself at him. They fell back against the bed and she stared down at him, an odd look of pleasure and irritation on her face.

  "Trust me, you're not going to scare me."

  He cupped her cheeks, unable to help himself. He kissed her hard, telling her everything that words couldn't say. She was right there with him, touching and tasting.

  "You have no idea just how badly I want you. All the things I want to do with you. To you,” he said against her throat. “But I'm barely in control and there's an animal inside me who won't be gentle with you, cherié."

  His words halted her and after a moment, she rolled away.

  "Do I get to tie you up later?” she asked, her humor shining through.

  "I'll think about it,” he said and reached for the rope. She didn't protest as tied her wrists above her head. Somehow, he managed to ignore the lithe body, ripe with desire that beckoned to him. “Now, tell me about these dreams of yours. I want to hear every detail.” He moved down the bed trailing his fingers over her leg, loving the way chill bumps broke out in his wake.

  "Sebastian!"

  "I told you, cher, no touching."

  "I can't touch you with my legs."

  He was sure that if there'd been more light, the look he gave her would have made her blush. He wrapped a piece of the rope around one ankle and then cinched it to the post on the footboard.

  "Don't be shy, chérie. I've had dreams about you as well. Dreams where you ride my cock for hours."

  His words must have excited her. She sighed low and long, and he could feel her pulse jump beneath his fingers as he tied her other ankle.

  "I've probably dreamed about you every night for a decade. Even when I shouldn't have. About what your skin would feel like against mine."

  "I dreamt that too,” she said.

  He crawled up the length of her body, letting the hair on his chest tickle her. “How does it feel?” Slowly he nibbled his way down her jaw to her ear. She sighed and arched against him. God, she smelled good.

  "Wonderful. Wonderful. Please Sebastian..."

  "What is it, amour?"

  "Touch me..."

  "Where?” He laughed at her exasperated sigh.

  He caressed her cheek with the back of her fingers. “Here?"

  She shook her head.

  "Here?” He cupped her breast and tugged on the nipple. She squirmed against him, her pelvis rubbing against his cock. He rolled to the side, at a safer distance.

  "No!"

  He moved his hand up to her collarbone. “How about—"

  "No! Down there. For heaven's sakes. Don't make me beg! Touch me!” Her pleas made him laugh, as did her modesty. She'd quickly outgrow that. Werewolves weren't known for their modesty. They had no problem with colorful language or nudity.

  "Ahh ... you want me to play with that pretty pussy. Is that it?"

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  "Say it,” he whispered against her ear.

  "Wh ... what?” she stammered.

  "I want to hear you say it."

  "Oh, for heaven—"

  He slid his palm down her tummy and let it rest right above the nest of curls between her legs. He could feel her straining to move underneath his hand.

  "I'm not touching you until you say it."

  "Touch my pussy, Sebastian.” Her words were even, almost clinical, but it was her tone that told him how desperate she was. It was the rise and fall of her chest, the ragged breath against his cheek.

  His fingers slid through her wet curls and between her delicate folds. She was so wet. So warm and just waiting for him. “Good girl. Now that wasn't hard was it?"

  He circled her clit with the tip of his finger. Slow lazy circles that had her hips lifting off the bed.

  "A little anxious are we?"

  "Sebastian!"

  "Sorry love.” He settled himself between her thighs and kissed every inch he could reach. The sweet scent of her swirled around him; filled him until he felt as if he were drowning in it. He sank a finger into her, coating it with her juices.

  "Now, tell me about those dreams so I can make you come."

  "We're in the woods. You're always chasing me,” she offered so quickly it made him laugh.

  "Do I catch you?"

  He kissed and nipped his way up her thigh. Her legs spread wider and he lapped up her cream, loving the taste. Memorizing her musky scent. He turned his finger left and right and slowly curled it forward. Her hips shot off the bed and she cried out.

  "Found it ... Tell me more."

  Her body tightened up, every tendon and muscle. He could see her pulling on the ropes, but he'd tied them carefully. They wouldn't come undone without his help.

  "You catch me. You rip my clothes off and toss me to the ground."

  He sucked on her clit just enough to make her gasp. Then he stopped and waited for her to continue.

  "You thrust your fingers inside me, but I'm already wet. I'm always wet for you."

  He groaned low in his throat. “I like the sound of that. How many fingers?"

  "Two, sometimes three."

  "Think you can take three fingers, petite?"

  "I hope so."

  He chuckled and asked her why. Before she could answer, he added a digit turning them inside her slippery channel.

  "Because you have a huge cock, that's why. Sebastian, please."

  "What? What do you want?"

  God, he sounded just like he had in her dreams. Amanda was about to come apart and he only had two fingers in her. The roar of the storm was nothing compared to the quake building deep inside her.

  "Tell me, chérie. So I can make you come.” He went back to work scissoring his fingers and lapping at her pussy. Every so often, he hit her clit just right and she felt a spark of pleasure. She dug her heels into the bed as best she could so she could drive herself against his fingers, his incredible mouth.

  Just when she thought he might let her come, he pulled out his fingers and licked at her juices with his velvety tongue.

  "Oh, God. Yes!"

  He sampled her, nibbled on the tender flesh. She cried out when he slowly speared her with his tongue. Her cries turned to screams as he thrust faster and faster into her. Deeper. She had to have more.

  Something bigger.

  She was starting to feel dizzy. Starting to wonder if the orgasm would ever hit her. It was so close. So wonderfully close.

  A bolt of lightning lit the room giving her a view of the handsome man between her thighs. She tossed her head back and pulled on the ropes again. This wasn't fair. She wanted to touch him. To feel him. She'd fantasized so many times about learning every inch of his body and now he was so close.

  Then he stopped.

  She whimpered. “Se
bastian!"

  "Relax, love.” No sooner had the words left his lips than three thick fingers filled her. “Now, you were telling me about your dream. About my fingers pumping in and out of you. Like this?"

  "Yeah.” She could barely find her voice when he was touching her like that.

  "What next?"

  "Please, Sebastian."

  "Please what?"

  "Untie me,” she whined. “Enough is enough."

  "I told you, no touching—"

  Exasperated, she stared down at him, barely able to make out his face in the darkness. “I don't want to touch you. I want you to fuck me. Now."

  He froze. For five whole heartbeats, he didn't move a single muscle and she started to wonder if she'd shocked him. Then in a lightning fast move, he was circling the bed, snapping the ropes.

  "Ready for this, petite?” he asked, his voice dark and low.

  "Yes!” Her cry was punctuated by a loud crack of thunder. It was as if the heavens had been waiting for this very moment just as she had.

  He crawled across the big bed and settled himself between her thighs. She ran her hands up over his arms, memorizing with her touch what her eyes couldn't see. He repositioned his hips and the broad tip of cock nestled against her opening.

  He thrust himself home in one fluid motion. She screamed out in pleasure and pain. Neither of them moved for endless seconds. He kept his arms bracketed around her and she ran her hands down his sides, silently urging him to make love to her. Finally, slowly he pulled back. For a moment, she felt empty but then he was inside her again, filling her. She angled her hips and he sank deeper. With each thrust, they found a rhythm. Him driving forward and her lifting her hips to meet him. He nuzzled her neck, his chest grazing her breasts with each movement. She recognized the tender caress for what it was, a man barely holding onto his control. He pumped his cock into her faster and faster. She wrapped her legs around him, her moans growing louder.

  She'd never felt this good before. This complete.

  "Am I hurting you?” he asked when she moaned low in her throat.

  "No. Harder. Faster."

  She realized very quickly that human men were no match for werewolves. He fucked her harder and faster. So hard, she thought they'd break the bed. So fast, she could scarcely breathe. But her body accepted him. Welcomed the onslaught.

  Then, as if she'd just leapt off a cliff into the turquoise waters of the ocean, she came. She moaned out her pleasure as it crashed into her like a tidal wave. Every cell in her body seemed energized and blissfully happy.

  She heard the throaty grunts and groans of the man above her, her husband, who was thrusting for all he was worth.

  With a loud shout of raunchy French, he froze inside her, his cock shooting his seed deep into her body. His muscles were hard beneath her fingertips, but they were also quivering. When he collapsed against her, she lazily ran her fingertips over his back.

  "I love you,” she whispered.

  "I love you too, Amanda St. James.” He rose up just enough to kiss her chin.

  "Deveraux,” she corrected.

  "You're right. Mrs. Deveraux. Has a nice ring to it."

  "It certainly does."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seven

  Darkness fell over the cabin and the winds eventually died down. Amanda had never felt so wonderful or so safe. They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms until sleep finally claimed them.

  In the early hours of the morning, he kissed her awake and she could already feel the steely length of his cock against her hip.

  "Good morning, my beautiful bride.” She nestled closer, aching in all sorts of delicious places.

  "Good morning, my handsome husband."

  "So is that how your dream ended?” he asked as he nuzzled her shoulder, a warm palm covering her right breast.

  "That was far better."

  "Good,” he said, sounding satisfied with himself, before his lips claimed hers in a soul-stealing kiss.

  He gently squeezed a tender nipple between his finger and thumb. The slight pressure had her gasping. He took full advantage, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth. The erotic invasion brought a rush of moisture to her pussy and she angled her hips toward his.

  He let go of her nipple and slid his hand between her legs.

  "Are you sore?"

  "A little."

  "Sorry."

  "I'm not. I feel well loved,” she said and stretched against him.

  He quickly ran his hand over her torso, his large palm warming her skin. “You are well loved. By me."

  Before she could say a word he'd claimed her lips and slipped has hand between her legs. The tip of his finger circled her clit and she shifted her pelvis trying to increase the friction. He laughed softly against her lips.

  She whimpered and let her legs fall open, hoping he'd take advantage. Instead, he continued kissing her and driving her crazy with that finger. She was so on edge she was about to fall off. Why was he tormenting her so?

  Reaching down with her hand, she started to guide him to the perfect spot but he brushed her hand away and continued his tender torture.

  Two could play this game. She wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked up and down slowly.

  He groaned against the column of her throat. “That feels so good."

  At his words of encouragement, she tickled the underside of his penis with her thumb. He shuddered against her and slid his finger deep inside her tender sheath.

  He didn't play fair. She wanted to drive him crazy just like he was doing to her. When she got to the base, she adjusted her grip so she could gently squeeze his balls.

  He groaned again and stroked her clitoris, rubbing the tender bundle of nerves with back and forth with his thumb, until finally the tempo was just right. Her hand paused over him and the other grabbed hold of the sheets.

  "So close,” she said, afraid to move, to breathe, lest he lose the rhythm of his strokes. So close, she chanted in her mind, willing the orgasm to take her.

  "Come for me,” he whispered. His words must have done the trick, because her inner muscles immediately began to clench around his finger. Next to him, her body tightened up like the bow of a violin and she screamed out her pleasure.

  When she went limp in his arms, he kissed her softly. Her hand rested against his cock; he was still hard as a pipe.

  When he pulled back she gave a happy sigh, then narrowed her eyes in mock fierceness. “Finally."

  "You enjoyed yourself."

  "You're so cocky,” she whispered, her voice becoming sleepy. “Problem is you have every reason to be."

  He lifted her hand from his hard-on and brushed a kiss over her knuckles.

  "Get some rest. You're gonna need it.” He kissed her shoulder and then pushed off the bed. “I'll be right back. Need to check da weather."

  * * * *

  When Amanda woke, light was just starting coming through the bedroom door. The spot next to her was empty. She sat up and looked around the room.

  "Sebastian?"

  "Out here, cherie."

  She followed the sound of his voice and found him sitting in a lone chair on the deck, his gaze fixed on the light blue sky. The door was propped open and the shutters had been raised.

  "Storm headed east so we didn't get the worst of it.” He smiled up at her and she felt her insides turn to mush all over again.

  The black robe didn't look nearly as big on him as it had on her. She bent to give him a kiss and he pulled her onto his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her naked body, holding her close.

  "I will never get tired of kissing you,” he informed her.

  She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. As she gazed into his dark eyes, she wondered why she'd ever stayed away.

  "You must stay, you know. You're to be my Luna now."

  "Your Luna?"

  "My mate. The leader of our pack. You're the Alpha female now."

  "Does that me
an that you have to do whatever I tell you?” she teased and trailed her fingers down the hard plain of his chest.

  "I might let you have your way every now and then,” he said and cupped her left breast in his hand. She arched against him and felt the hard ridge between them.

  "Sebastian!” she said, shocked at his eagerness. “You're hard again."

  "I cannot help it, cherié. It's your fault. It's what being near you does to me."

  It was time for some payback.

  "Is that right?” She tugged at the ties holding the robe closed and let them fall away. She stared deep into his eyes as she brushed the soft fabric away from his body. Bracing her hands against his chest, she straddled his hips and slowly drank in the sight of him sans clothing.

  Hot was an understatement. No wonder he was the most eligible bachelor in Louisiana.

  Not anymore. A smile spread across her face and she began to rub against the hard length of him.

  He sucked in a breath and looked at her through his lashes. “What are you smiling about, love?"

  "You're not the most eligible—bachelor—in Louisiana—anymore,” she said, concentrating of the friction between her legs.

  Her juices covered his cock, making for a slippery ride. He bucked his hips and almost succeeded in sliding home. She pushed him down and shook her head.

  "It's my turn to drive you wild."

  "You do that every day.” His hands closed around her hips and he pushed his hips up against hers.

  She was rapidly losing control of both her desire and him, and the look in his dark eyes said he knew it. He reached between her legs and flicked the sensitive nub.

  Quickly, she stood up and turned around. “You're not getting your way,” she told him over her shoulder.

  He growled low in his throat but the sound didn't scare her. She reached beneath her and guided his cock into her wet sheath.

  Bracing her hands against his thighs, she began moving up and down on his cock. She kept the rhythm tortuously slow. He was so big, so thick. His hands raked over her back and she fought the urge to lean back against him, to let him take the lead.

  His arm snaked around her waist and his fingers closed over her clit, making her cry out.

  "I should tie you up since you can't keep your hands to yourself."

  "Not a chance in hell.” The possessive tone set off something inside her. She tossed her head back and rode him as hard as she could. An orgasm swept over her, heating her from the inside out, shocking her with its quickness.