by Rian Kelley
She’d never felt a need to brand her man before and she tried to ignore it, placing an open kiss above his collar bone, then a love bite followed by the stroke of her tongue. It wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She stood on her toes to reach that sensitive skin beneath his ear and suckled it. She felt his cock stir, push against her belly, and she pulled back to have a look.
Since feeling the strength of his erection earlier, the length of it, the fullness, she had an idea what she would discover, or so she’d thought. Ethan was impressive. He was hard, thick, flushed with expectation. Her breasts grew heavy. And that spiral of anticipation tightened, brought her back to her toes, drew a clenched response from her core.
“Tell me you haven’t changed your mind,” he demanded. “Now’s the moment.”
“How ‘bout I show you?” she returned and pushed gently at his shoulders until his back was against the tiled wall.
She’d never been more aware of a man’s passion. Ethan’s body hummed with need. Every muscle tense, his skin flushed. And yet he held onto that control. It was frustrating. Shae wanted to test him. She wanted him to slip, just a little. Lose it a lot. And know that with her, it was okay. She lifted her hands and pushed them into his hair, tugged gently on the short strands, and then smoothed her palms over his face.
“You shaved.”
“Yes.” He brought up her arm and placed a kiss inside her elbow. “I didn’t want to burn your skin.” He bit delicately and then stroked with his tongue. Delicious sensation poured through her veins.
“I liked the manly look,” she breathed thickly.
“You wouldn’t like the rash I’d leave on your body.” He spoke against her skin as he moved from her shoulder to lave attention on her ear, circling the shell with his tongue and drawing from her a gasp of appreciation.
She pushed back and dropped her eyes.
“Do you want my lips here?” She circled the tip of his cock with her finger. “Have you thought about that, Ethan?”
He let his forehead rest against hers and watched her hands.
“Yes.” His voice was low, husky, a lion’s purr.
“How ‘bout here?” She drew her fingers down that fine ridge, from head to base, and felt him shudder in response.
“Yes. All of it.”
“I don’t know about all,” she taunted. “You’re a big man, Ethan.” She cradled his balls, pushed her fingertip against that soft flesh just beyond, and felt the tension in his body ramp up. His shaft grew impossibly hard, straining for her touch. “You like that?”
“Yes. More,” he demanded.
She followed that sensitive line between shaft and anus, circling when she got there, pressing a fingertip into the shallow dip, and was rewarded with the gasp that hit the back of his throat. His face was taut, his smoky eyes so intense she could almost see the eclipse of his pleasure. She pressed further, dared where she never had before, and felt his body spasm.
He was going to come. She felt the build up at the base of his cock. And he had flushed a deep crimson all the way to the broad head, which quivered in preparation.
Damn, how she wanted him inside her. She felt herself melt, her legs tremble.
“Stop now,” he bit off, but his semen was beginning to spill. It bathed her wrist in a warm pool. He removed her hand, held it in the vice-like grip of his, and buried his face in her neck. “Give me a minute.”
She gave him the time, knowing the longer they could draw this out the more pleasurable it would be for both of them. But, damn, it hurt. Her core was so tight, so plush, if she didn’t have him inside her soon she would scream from the frustration of it.
She listened to his breath draw even, felt it fan against her neck slower. He was gaining the control he needed, and Shae was glad of it—because she planned to rip it away from him as relentlessly as she’d just done.
“What do you want? Need?” he asked. “It won’t take much now and I’m going to come, and hell if I’m going to leave you behind.”
She tipped her head back and looked into his face. Passion made his features sharp and hooded his eyes.
“We can play catch up later,” she assured him. She had other plans right now.
“No.”
But she sank to her knees and lapped up some of the arousal that had seeped from him. He was still impressively erect.
“Mmmm,” she murmured. He was salty and earthy and she wanted more of him. “Don’t deny me, Ethan.”
She took him in her mouth—just the velvet tip with the scalloped helmet, which she tapped with her tongue while she stared into his eyes. His were molten. His lips drew back in a feral grimace. She swirled and sucked and watched expression shatter on his face. Torment, bliss. A wild flush rose to his cheeks and he cradled her head, holding her on him, flexing his hips so that she took more of him.
“Okay?” he asked. She felt his restraint, knew he was holding his body in check, and that just spurred her on. She swirled her tongue around his crown and stroked his shaft with a firm hand while she sought that sensitivity that had catapulted him to the brink of orgasm earlier. This time, exploration already complete, she pushed into him, felt his muscles clench around her, and his seed spurt into her mouth. His body trembled, shuddered into his climax, and at its height he called out, a hoarse cry that was her name and an intense pleasure that pulled on Shae’s feminine wiles.
Shae guided him down until he sat with his back against the tiled wall and his legs were folded, making the perfect cradle for her to slip into, which she did. His arms came around her and he pulled her close while the breath rattled in his throat and she listened to his heart hammering in his chest.
In that moment, when vulnerability reigned, he stared into her with soft affection and awe, and drew her to him in a kiss that was gentle and reverent.
“Amazing,” he muttered against her lips. “I’ve never come like that before.”
“No way.”
“Oral sex, yes. But like that, watching you, your determination, the hunger in your eyes—“ He stroked her cheek, the arch of her throat. “That little trick you’ve got. How did you find me so fast?”
“I paid attention.” Like the way his skin hummed with pleasure when she touched him. “I followed your need.”
She smiled, turned her head, and planted a kiss in his palm. Then looked him in the eye and said, “I hurt.”
“Come on.” His hands curled around her arms and he lifted her as he rose to his feet.
“Payback time?” she murmured.
“Count on it.”
“I am.” But the air was cooling and she felt her flesh rise in protest. She stuck a hand into the spray. “We ran it cold.”
The dismay must have colored her tone because he assured her, “I’ll take care of that, too.”
He stepped from the shower cubicle and grabbed a lush, terry robe which he wrapped around her. It was obviously his—her hands were lost in the sleeves and the hem trailed the floor. He didn’t bother tying the sash, but bent and lifted her in his arms.
“Until I get you worked up again, this will have to do.”
He carried her through the house, passing down the shadowed hall, through the kitchen, which was lit only by the light under the range, and onto the patio. The wind was mild, stirred the leaves in the palm trees so that they chattered pleasantly. She snuggled deeper into his robe, tucked her head against his shoulder and then, taking advantage of her perspective, stroked that soft spot behind his ear with her tongue.
She heard the sharp intake of his breath and felt the rumble of his voice with her lips on his throat before his words left his mouth.
“Don’t get me started again,” he said.
“Of course I will.”
“This is about you now.”
He hooked a lounge chair with his foot and pulled it under one of the heat lamps and into a pool of amber light. “I want to watch you,” he explained. “The way you watched me.”
He laid her down so that she
was partially reclined and opened the robe. With his long fingers, he stroked her, from the instep of her foot, over the slope of her calf, then to the soft skin of her inner thighs. The heat in his eyes, the cool air, his fiery touch made her tremble with anticipation.
Shae squirmed, opening her legs, inviting him to take liberties.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured against her belly, as his mouth and tongue and teeth began an exploration of her skin.
His fingers brushed over the thatch of blond hair at her apex and then delved between the silky folds. He didn’t penetrate her, but swirled the tip of his thumb around her clit and slid between her lips, where she was already melting.
“We’re going to do better than that,” he promised.
With both hands, he parted her legs further so that her thighs dangled over the edges of the mattress and she was fully exposed to him.
“Beautiful,” he breathed. He lowered his head and inhaled deeply, taking her scent into his nostrils and she watched passion flush his skin. He was crouched beside the lounge chair and when Shae looked down she watched his cock stir, fill, and she very much wanted him between her legs. He had other ideas.
“I’m going to taste you now and you’re going to come the same way I did.”
It was a toss-up, what she wanted more: Ethan’s lapping up her honey, or his cock sliding into her. She wanted both. Now. And whimpered at the unfairness of it.
“I want you inside me.”
“It will happen,” he promised.
“Just not now.”
“Not yet,” he corrected and slid onto the chair beside her so that he could finish the job of removing the bath robe.
She tried to see herself the way he did—plump breasts, slender waist, hips that filled out a full hourglass figure. She had womanly curves and the play of shadow and light over her skin added to her seductive allure, if the tight expression of serious want on Ethan’s face was anything to go by. She decided it was and smiled with satisfaction.
He nodded. “You’re incredible, Shae. Your body makes me burn.”
“You’re hard again,” she observed.
“Yes. But I’ll last a hell of a long time now.” His gaze fell to her breasts and he reached both hands toward her to cup their weight. She listened to his breath grow thicker, watched his face darken with arousal.
He lowered his head and suckled her nipple deeply into his mouth. Shae felt the touch all the way to her womb. She shifted, squeezing her legs together on the exquisite sensations he evoked.
“No, baby.” He opened her again, while his mouth teased her nipples. His hands skimmed over her stomach, following indentation, swirling inside her navel, and then small circles growing larger until he was moving through that thatch of hair again, grazing over her sensitive bud, dipping into her core, but not enough. Definitely not enough. She whimpered a protest and lifted her hips for more, but he evaded her. He lifted his head and whispered, “I don’t want you coming until I’m down on you, sweetheart. I want to drink every drop of you.”
“Then do it now,” she demanded which only drew a husky, intimate laugh from him.
But he quickened his pace. He lowered his head, his lips tracing the shape of her belly, his tongue plunging into her navel, his teeth tugging on her piercing. Pleasure shot through her body, electric, pulsing, turning her to liquid. His thumb swirled around her clit and then pressed with delicious accuracy into that button. And she tightened, unbearably.
“Now. I’m going to come now.”
“Hold on, sweetheart.” He plunged a finger into her channel and groaned. “So tight. You’re so tight,” he breathed against her skin, moving in a direct line for her sex. His mouth opened over her clit and he plunged a second finger into her channel. He nipped at her bud, suckled it, teased it with his teeth, all the while creating a sultry dance with his fingers. Shae’s body began to splinter. She heard only the roaring of her blood, felt the rasping pull of his lips and tongue on her passion, and arched into his touch. The world blew apart in fragments of bright light and a dizzying fall of pieces that seemed to have no complementary angles. And just when she thought her orgasm was complete, she felt Ethan’s legs push hers open further, felt the tip of his cock as he rubbed it between her lips, bathing himself in her scent. And then he plunged into her and she stretched to receive him.
She’d never felt so full. So much an extension of someone else.
He thrust and his balls slapped her ass, his hand slip between them and played with her clit, his mouth suckled her nipple. The rub of his rougher skin, the friction of their sex, and what she’d thought was the start of an amazing orgasm became a spectacular firework of sensation so exquisite she nearly lost consciousness.
She didn’t rise from the throes for several minutes and not until Ethan began to move.
“I don’t want to crush you sweetheart.”
When he pulled out of her she whimpered at the loss. She felt as though she’d suddenly been set adrift and wanted her anchor—Ethan—back.
He turned her so that he could slip under her and shifted her so that she draped over his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly for a moment and that was exactly what she needed. And then he began long, sultry strokes down her back, her bottom, her thighs, and it calmed her further.
When she lifted her head and stared into his eyes, his were liquid with banked heat. She smiled, full of the glory they’d just shared.
“That was something,” she said.
He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her face in an act of tenderness.
“Mind-blowing,” he agreed.
She watched reality return to his features in slow increments, including a frown that began to form above his brows.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing wrong.” He sought and captured her gaze. “Just. . .nothing has ever felt this right.”
She knew what he meant—something so good could be intimidating. It carried with it the desire for more, the fear of losing it all. Feelings that Ethan new too well.
“Don’t even think about it,” Shae warned. “You’re days of hiding are over.”
“I’m still here,” he said.
But as promises went, Shae knew that was pretty weak.
Chapter Ten
Shae sat at the desk in the sunroom-office, her laptop open as she read an excerpt from a medical journal that detailed the specifics of PTSD in military personnel. She saw some similarity in symptoms between what was described in the article and what she read in Ethan’s screenplay, but not enough, she didn’t think, for it to be an accurate description of Ethan’s mental and emotional state when he was active in the Marines.
Ethan didn’t mention nightmares or flashbacks. There was no evidence of depression and no memory issues. He hadn’t turned to drugs or alcohol for relief.
But he had been emotionally numb. He’d had difficulty returning to “normal” following deployment.
There was something else at play and Shae found it in a blog written by a soldier who had served in Afghanistan. There didn’t seem to be a name for it, but the man wrote about how stress reactions were cumulative. He examined how he had tried, upon every return from battle, to force normal. He recounted homecomings and the mundane daily activities of a family man and infused them with the struggle to feel during these times. And Shae recognized Ethan in these situations. The man he’d been when he was married to Tina. And probably for sometime afterwards.
She navigated deeper into the issue, finding other blogs and even a few military sites that spoke about the difficulty of transitioning back to home life. She bookmarked the most helpful and then sat back to ruminate over all she’d learned.
She’d found one common thread in all the personal accounts she’d read—each man had improved, had moved onto healthy, after sharing their feelings. All with their wives, some also with their fellow servicemen, several with counselors. Ethan’s decision to write about his experience w
as wise. He wanted change. He’d probably recognized, on some level, that his inability to connect deeply with a woman had a basis in that numbness he’d experienced while serving his country.
Shae saw only a little of that distance now with Ethan. Occasionally, as though remembering himself, he tried to push her away with words of warning, but when they came together it was a soul-touching experience. In the two days since they’d become intimate, he’d denied her nothing. They’d shared searing eye contact that revealed emotion—passion for sure, but tenderness, too. More than once she’d fallen asleep while he had stroked her back and limbs—his was the touch of a man who cared and didn’t fear showing it.
He wasn’t the man in the screenplay. Not any longer. She wondered how she could help him see that.
“Hey.”
His voice was low but she still startled. She looked up and found him leaning against the door frame, his shoulders stretching the thin material of his dark t-shirt, his legs crossed at the ankles and feet bare. He was sexy the way air was light—just a natural state of being.
He smiled and the lines around his eyes fanned out and his mouth curved until a dimple appeared in his cheek. It was such a juxtaposition—the fiercely male features—strong, flared nose, chiseled cheek bones, firm chin and jaw line—and the softness of his smile, that Shae felt herself respond from somewhere deep. Her heart paused and her breath fluttered in her throat.
Their eyes locked and Shae felt herself leaning toward him. His smile slowly faded as the heat in his eyes simmered.
“What are you thinking about?”
Shae felt her skin flush. “You.”
“It must be pretty good.” He came further into the room, crouched beside her chair, and stroked her cheek with his index finger. “You’re blushing.”
She caught his hand in hers and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. His hands were so much bigger than her own, but capable of heart-stopping gentleness. He woke her this morning with feather-light kisses that began at her temple and meandered over her body, his fingers trailing so lightly they raised goose bumps and held her in a state of semi-arousal, his touch equal parts soothing and sexy. Not even at her urging had he increased the tempo or made bolder forays into parts begging for his attention. And when he finally did, it was torturously slow and gentle.
