Defender (Doms of Mountain Bend Book 3)

by BJ Wane

  “Duh,” he drawled, dipping between her labia to caress her swollen clit. “I love how women can’t hide from their arousal. Did you have a bad dream?”

  Frustrated and on edge from his probing, she snapped without thinking, “Can’t we just fuck without all the questions?”

  His jaw went taut, his eyes turning frosty as he dropped his lighthearted expression. Pulling her toward him with a hand on her hip, he delivered one swat hard enough to burn and bounce her cheek. “You don’t have to answer but you do have to watch your tone.”

  Skye was more concerned with her rapid-fire reaction to that painful smack than with his displeasure. Gulping, she clasped his shoulders for anchorage against the hot flow of blood rushing through her veins, her inner muscles throbbing in tune with her butt.

  “Wow,” she breathed against his neck, shuddering.

  “Stop that. I can’t stay strict if you’re going to like my chastisement, and it’s way too soon to introduce you to something harsher, although you tempt me.”

  “I do?” Leaning back, she smiled, giddy with that remark.

  “You act like no man has found you too tempting to resist. In case you haven’t noticed, I didn’t hesitate long.”

  “Yeah, but from the little I know about you, you find favor with all women.” Not that she minded. That made it easier to get what she wanted tonight.

  “True, but I still insist on having my way, so” — he squeezed the offended spot — “bad dream, or something else?”

  “A bad dream, and no, I don’t remember much,” she lied. “Would you get naked, please?”

  “Girl, you have a one-track mind. Kneel up and hold onto the back of the sofa, thighs spread.”

  Her entire body hummed, vibrating with anticipation as she obeyed while listening to him undress. The cheap mattress dipped when he rejoined her, and she wasn’t crazy about not facing him with her better side. But if she wanted this – and she did – then she had to stow her insecurities.

  “Good, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear, kneeling behind her and reaching around to hold her breasts. “So fucking soft” - he nipped her earlobe - “and warm, responsive.”

  Tweaking her nipples between thumbs and forefingers sent lightning bolts streaking down to her pussy, and she rocked with the surge of arousal. His praise warmed her as much as the press of his bare chest against her back. The light sprinkling of his chest hair tickled her sensitive skin and drew a shiver; the rigid length of his erection nestling between her buttocks pulled a low moan from her throat.

  “Clayton.” Skye groaned as he slid up and down her crack, the slight abrasion over her anus producing tiny ripples of unexpected pleasure.

  Clayton chuckled close enough to her ear for the deep rumble to curl her toes, his voice a low-pitched seductive whisper that heightened her arousal as he said, “Like that, do you? Does that mean you enjoy anal play?”

  Did she? Since she didn’t know, she struggled with her answer, her body arching under his roaming hands sliding down her quivering abdomen. “Maybe,” she whispered, hoping he left it at that. Other than the floor lamp by the table, the room was shrouded in shadows, lending an intimacy to the carnal seduction. He took his hands down her thighs then up the insides until he stopped a hair’s breadth from touching her pussy again.

  Laying her head back until the ends of her hair brushed her shoulder blades, she basked in the mind-freeing bliss of his attention and the slow sensory overload his touch evoked. One thumb inched over to brush her labia, the calloused abrasion on her tender flesh producing a spate of cream in a quivering response of raw, primitive need.

  “Maybe isn’t an answer, sweetheart, but we can come back to that subject. You’re tight,” he pointed out, slipping one finger inside her. “How long has it been since you’ve had someone or something inside you?”

  Clayton bit the delicate spot between neck and shoulder, the prick of pain distracting Skye from coming up with an answer to yet another blunt question she couldn’t reply to with accuracy. She’d been married up until ten days ago, so she assumed she’d had sex in recent weeks. But if there was one thing she’d learned in that time, it was to avoid assuming anything.

  “A while,” she returned, stifling the urge to demand he fuck her instead of talking. She remembered his reaction all too well when she’d tried that a few minutes ago.

  His sigh drew her head around and brought their faces nose to nose. The disappointment reflected in his gaze cut her to the quick.

  “Is that the best you can do?”

  His warm breath wafted across her lips, adding to the escalating need inside her she couldn’t recall experiencing with anyone else. Despite her reservations about getting involved, even on just a physical level, she still believed doing this with the stranger she’d met several times already rather than bringing someone else into the equation was right.

  “Clayton, please, I can’t.”

  He resumed rubbing between her cheeks again while adding slow, deep finger thrusts that teased her clit. “If you can’t, then you can’t.” Adding another finger, he scissored inside her, stretching her muscles, tormenting her by refraining from harder nub stimulation. “Hold on tight,” he instructed in a cooler tone she didn’t like.

  Since she was in no position to complain, and he was, she kept quiet, bracing her arms against the back of the sofa bed as he withdrew his fingers. Hearing the rustle of a condom, she tensed in anticipation then gasped as he grabbed her hips, pulled her lower body toward him, and entered her all in one smooth move.

  “Fuck but you don’t make it easy, girl,” he ground out, jabbing inside her with shallow thrusts until she softened enough to take his full penetration.

  Even those short strokes added to Skye’s aroused state, but the stretch and burn of his full possession sent her into a frenzy of uncontrollable lust. She bore down on his cock until the back of her thighs landed on his hard quads, his wiry pubic hair tickling her buttocks.

  “Yes,” she whispered, loving the cramped, stuffed feeling that required her full concentration.

  “Glad you approve,” he murmured, his voice laced with humor. “But no sitting down for this round.”

  Lifting her back to her knees, he kept hold of her hips and set up a steady, cock-ramming barrage into the deepest region of her sheath, leaving her no choice but to hold on for the wild ride. With her nipples puckered so tight they hurt, feeding fuel to the fire raging below, nothing mattered but the way he pounded their hips together, the forceful thrust of his steely cock invading her welcoming body. Liquid heat filled her pussy, easing his way as her muscles clamped around his pummeling girth, and her breathing grew labored.

  This was what she’d needed, craved for days, this mindless, carnal fucking that took her away, far away from the ice-cold abyss of her troubles and guided her into the heated brightness of an exploding sun. The bed squeaked and shifted. Skye groaned and held tight while Clayton cursed and chuckled, never slowing his jackhammer plunges. The world tilted on its axis, and an explosion of color burst behind her closed eyelids with the grasping convulsions of her climax. Pleasure so intense it wrung a tortured cry from her constricted throat engulfed her entire body.

  Skye tried to move her lower body in tune with the rolling waves of rippling pleasure, but Clayton’s tight grip kept her at his mercy. It amazed her how that control, how being forced to take his possession at his pace heightened her release until she shook and sobbed with the overwhelming intensity.

  “That a girl,” Clayton crooned in her ear, his praise accompanying his slower strokes as he jerked inside her with a groan, releasing his own orgasm. Her vaginal muscles clamped around his spasming cock, his harsh breathing falling on her neck as he ground into her. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, “suck me dry, yeah, fuck yes, like that.”

  She didn’t know if anyone had spoken of their pleasure like that before, but she loved it enough to stifle her annoyance at the endearment he kept insisting on, and came do
wn from her euphoric high by slow degrees, sad her reprieve had ended already.

  Clayton shuddered as he reluctantly pulled from Skye’s warm, slick body, her still-quivering muscles caressing his cock and making it difficult to do the right thing and let her catch her breath before round two. And there would be another round. Once wasn’t enough. Releasing her hips, he reached around to fondle her full breasts again, loving the plump softness that contrasted with the hard-pointed tips.

  “Are you with me?” he asked, looking around at her flushed face.

  “Mmmm, I’m not sure. Is that important?”

  “Eventually, but no, not right now.”

  Since she appeared happy remaining in her semi-comatose state, he would oblige her by helping her stay there instead of waiting for her to rest. He took her hands off the back of the sofa, eased her down, and rolled her pliant body over. Eyeing her sated, content expression as she blinked him into focus, he decided he much preferred this look to the worried, sometimes scared mien she usually portrayed.

  He kissed her then said, “Be right back.”

  Her eyes flew open wide. “You’re not leaving?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He shrugged. “Then I won’t.”

  The relief on her face bothered him as he strode into the bathroom and disposed of the condom. He wished he could make her tell him what was wrong. The sooner he helped her, the sooner he could let her go and stop thinking about her with concern. He had enough on his plate with Louise Campbell dropping charges again and a slew of upcoming cases to wade through. Then there was the rodeo next week, which was an all-day event, and following that they would begin the fall harvesting, which would require more of his help.

  He liked staying busy, the combination of mental work with his DA job and the physical toils of working the ranch. Keeping up with all his irons in the fire kept him from brooding about his past, the sudden loss of his parents that had left him an orphan. The mental and physical stimulation helped him stay upbeat and positive, spending his downtime at the club or taking a woman out for a casual date helped him wind down and avoid getting burned out from the grueling schedule.

  He had no time for or interest in getting personally involved with a woman, so why was he so obsessed with concern for Skye? Padding back to the bed, he took in her plush body, the soft breasts tilted to the side from lying on her back, and the neatly trimmed black curls framing her pussy lips, still glistening from her orgasm. Her eyes were closed, her chest lifting with slow, even breathing, her hand resting on her abdomen, and he could no more resist her than he could forgo his morning espresso.

  As he knelt on the bed and gently spread her legs, he decided he could question his lack of restraint later. Settling his shoulders between her legs, he reached under her and palmed her buttocks, lifting her pussy to his mouth as her eyes opened.

  He grinned above her damp flesh, his eyes on her flushed face as he drawled, “Welcome back, sweetheart.” Lowering his eyelids and his mouth, he licked up her seam, tasting her on his tongue.

  Clayton loved going down on women, loved their sighs and wails of pleasure, their slick muscles closing around his tongue. Skye’s shy responses, small, surprised gasps, and glazed expression of lust-filled wonder as he jabbed his tongue inside her and lapped her clit were a huge turn-on. He guessed her age close to thirty and couldn’t imagine this was her first experience with oral sex, but, given how little he knew about her, he didn’t discount the possibility.

  “You have no secrets from me when I’m this close to your pussy, Skye. A woman’s body doesn’t lie.”

  A look of consternation crossed her face, and she opened her mouth to say something then clamped it shut again when he spread her labia with his thumbs. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” He blew on her exposed clit, the red, swollen nub just begging for attention.

  “Clayton!”

  She arched into his mouth, straining to bring her pelvis closer, but his hold kept her right where he wanted her. He took a few seconds to suckle her clit, drawing the bundle of nerves into his mouth, groaning as she gushed in response, before asking, “What?”

  The confusion crossing her face was both humorous and sad. She was one mixed-up woman, and the problem for him was discovering what or why she was in such a state, even now when she should be thinking only about what he was doing to her.

  “Nothing, just…you’re very good at this.”

  “Yes, I am, so clear your head, lie back, and enjoy. Tonight’s for you. The next time we’re at the club together, I might not be so generous.” Reaching up, he grabbed her hand and placed it on her breast. “Play up here while I play down here.”

  He delved between her legs again and went at her pussy like a man starved. She responded with equal fervor, kneading her breast, quivering as he rasped her clit, screeching when he bit harder than before, whimpering as he soothed the ache with soft caresses. Adding a finger, he plunged deep, stroking the nerves along her swollen walls while wrapping his lips around her clit. He played her like a fine-tuned instrument until her climax broke, squeezing his finger and tongue. He sheathed his cock as he continued to finger and lick her through the dwindling contractions then slid up her body and into her still convulsing, warm depths in one smooth glide.

  Oh, yeah, I am good, he mused, grinding his mouth on hers in a kiss as carnal as their fucking, straining bodies. Once again, he didn’t hold back, taking her like a man possessed, like someone who hadn’t fucked in a long time and was desperate to wring every ounce of pleasure from her sweet body in case it was his only chance to have her. By the time he followed her with his own release, he was left shaken from not only his powerful climax but that last coherent thought that hinted he might want more from this woman than he had from any other.

  Breathing heavy, Clayton eased off Skye and stared down at her flushed face, her cloud of ink-black hair spread out around her, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed.

  “That was…thank you.” She sighed without opening her eyes, a dreamy smile curling her lips.

  “Glad you liked it,” he returned, bemused by both of their reactions to what was supposed to be a good deed on his part, distracting her from her issues for a short time, and her eager embracement of his rougher-than-intended loss of control.

  He let her drift to sleep before easing off the bed and taking a quick shower. Clayton not only expected honesty from the women he bedded but from himself also. As he stood under the meager spray in the cramped cubicle, he was forced to admit there was something about Skye that tugged harder on him than anyone who had come before her. What, he didn’t know, and didn’t plan on guessing. It could be as simple as wanting to help someone who was in obvious trouble or as complicated as developing stronger feelings than lust for the first time. He was of a mind to still believe the first scenario, and until he had solid proof otherwise, that’s what he would go on when deciding how to deal with her now.

  If she behaved predictably, she would back away from him once she woke, just the same as she’d done every other time they’d crossed paths. He didn’t see a little thing like a desperate two hours of stress-relieving fucking persuading her to open up and allow him to help her. He’d never been pushy with women, as there were always others if one showed no interest in what he wanted. With Skye, he’d itched to push from their first encounter.

  Clayton wasn’t sure he liked it, but, as he dried off, admitted he had some soul-searching decisions to make. Just not this morning. He needed some shut-eye before heading into Boise for a sentence hearing later this morning, and then he planned on stopping by the Campbell’s to check on Louise. Who knew, maybe Skye would disappear from his life as unexpectedly as he’d come across her sleeping in her car on one of their back roads. That would make his decision-making much easier, even if it would prey on his conscience as much as Louise’s welfare.

  Skye was still sound asleep when he emerged from the bathroom, an
d he slipped quietly out and went downstairs to rest in his office. It seemed like he’d just gotten to sleep stretched out on the sofa when he heard Josh and Gayla arriving. Groaning, he rose and finger combed his hair away from his face. Snatching a suit jacket he paired with a dress shirt and jeans for court, he slipped it on and strode out to greet his staff.

  “Good morning. Thanks.” He took the cup of coffee Josh handed him.

  “Sure. Who’s parked out back?”

  “Her name’s Skye Marshall, and I’ve offered to let her stay upstairs for a few nights. You can still use the area though, just knock if the door is closed. I doubt she stays in much or sticks around for long.” That bothered him, but there was nothing he could do about it if it came to that.

  “A new witness or victim?” Gayla asked as she settled behind her desk and booted up the computer.

  “No, not that I’m aware of. She’s got trouble but keeping it to herself. Not much we can do if she won’t talk.” He sipped the coffee, pondering whether he should try one more time to probe for answers from Skye then squashed that idea. He’d made the offer to help several times already.

  Gayla sent him a mischievous, disbelieving look. “Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch with women.”

  “Ha, ha.” He thought of last night, and Skye’s sweet responses to his touch. If he didn’t find such underhanded tactics abhorrent, he would have taken advantage of her vulnerability and tried to pull answers from her then, when she’d been unable to think clearly. “I’ve got paperwork then the Bradshaw sentencing to attend. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

  “Catch you later, Boss,” Josh said. “Good luck in getting the max for that son of a bitch.”

  “Judge Casin is a hard ass, my kind of judge. This one is in the bag. Jed Thompson won’t get out until he’s over fifty.”

  The case, a drunk hit and run that left a child with crippling injuries, had hit close to home for Clayton, and he would be glad to see the last of the cocky, spoiled nineteen-year-old responsible. Jed’s wealthy parents couldn’t bail him out of this one, and the look on Jed’s face when the guilty verdict had been read would have been comical if his actions hadn’t caused such a tragedy.