Squealing with laughter, she finally ran out of the bathroom and jumped back into the huge bed, pulling the covers up tight beneath her chin, watching in fascination as he came out a minute later, his cock bobbing up and down in front of him, jutting from its nest of sparse black curls at the juncture of his thighs. He grabbed it with his fist, wagging it up and down, as he advanced toward her, a leering grin on his face.
“No!” she laughed, pulling the covers up over her head. “How can you possibly be hard again? Put that damn thing away and feed me. I need food, damn it! Food!”
She yelped as he jerked the covers off of her and got into bed. He shoved her over before turning on his side and pulling her into his arms, spooning her with his large, hot body, his erection tucked between her ass cheeks. “I’ll feed you in a minute, baby,” he said softly in her ear as his tongue darted out to lick the sensitive whorls. She gave a helpless little shiver, moaning in pleasure. “But first, I need to touch you, hold you. I’ve dreamed of this for so long, I can’t believe it’s finally real. That you’re actually here. And you’re mine.”
Placing her arms over his, she hugged them to her fiercely. “I am yours, Jesse. Truth be told, I’ve been yours since the day you saved me from falling out of that tree.” She gave a huge yawn and nestled back against him. “That was the happiest summer of my entire life,” she murmured sleepily before closing her eyes and succumbing to the exhaustion that lay waiting to steal her.
Mine, too, Jesse thought, but he said nothing. He just lay awake, trying to sort through the emotions he was feeling. They tightened around his chest like a steel band, making breathing difficult, thinking impossible. All he could do was feel. And it felt…wonderful. He’d fucked women before, lots of women. But he’d never really owned a woman before. At least, not one that he wanted with every atom of his being. Not one that he was prepared to cherish and protect for the rest of his life.
The entire concept scared the shit out of him.
Oh, he knew how to protect, all right. That part was easy. He was a SEAL, after all. That’s what SEALs did. But what did he know about cherishing anyone? Jack shit, that’s what. He’d never known his mother—she’d run off with another man and abandoned him to his brute of a father when Jesse’d been just a toddler.
Life in the Colter household had been an unending nightmare for Jesse. Oh, his aunt Alva, Harry’s sister, and his two older cousins Brian and Matt had tried to help when things got really bad, but how much could she do, really, a single parent trying to raise two growing boys on a barmaid’s salary? He’d had to grow up hard and fast, shut off from even the most rudimentary things most people took for granted. Things like laughter. Hot meals. Loving touches. The only touches he’d ever known had been blows from his father’s thick leather belt.
Until one night, when Jesse had been fourteen. Harry Colter, drunk and belligerent as usual, was approaching him menacingly, that belt hanging from his beefy hand, when something inside young Jesse had just snapped. His hand, by then nearly as large as his father’s, had shot out, grabbing Harry by the throat and squeezing hard, bringing the older man up short. Holding his choking father easily at arm’s length, Jesse had merely looked at him stony-eyed for a long, silent moment, before saying in a voice coldly devoid of all emotion, “If you ever touch me again, old man, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” Then he had released the frightened man and simply gone to his room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Harry Colter may have been a drunk and a bully, but he hadn’t been stupid. With that innate instinct all bullies have for their own self-preservation, he’d never touched Jesse again. In fact, he’d avoided his son as much as possible, as though he had seen something in Jesse’s eyes that day—something lethal and dangerous. Something made even more deadly by its very lack of passion.
Shaking off the grim memories, Jesse closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against the fragrant softness of Sarah’s neck, letting the memories of his father trickle out of him like water from a hose. His arms tightened around her abdomen and he let out a heavy sigh. Now that he had her in his bed, he knew he would do whatever it took to keep her there. Please, God, don’t let me fuck this up, he begged silently, filling his nostrils with her heady scent as he drifted off to sleep.
He woke to the delicious sensation of Sarah’s hands moving across the bronze satin skin of his chest, stroking his well-defined pecs, flicking her thumbs back and forth over his flat, male nipples. When she lifted her head and replaced one thumb with her tongue, he arched his back and let out a shuddering groan.
“I thought all men had chest hair,” she murmured, a note of wonder in her voice. “Razor? Or wax?”
“DNA.”
“Huh?”
“Native Americans have very little body hair.”
Oh.
Pushing her off of him, he gave her butt a playful swat. “C’mon, sugar, I think it’s high time I fed you.”
They prepared a late breakfast together in Jesse’s spacious kitchen, moving easily around each other with the well-choreographed coordination of an old married couple. After putting the biscuits in the oven to bake, Sarah grated cheese and diced some ham. Jesse sliced fresh mushrooms and beat the eggs for the ham, cheese, and mushroom omelets, which he cooked to perfection, light and fluffy and oozing with melted cheddar.
Sarah had to force herself to keep her mind on her tasks, because she kept stopping to stare at him from under her lashes. Shirtless, his darkly tanned chest, smooth and hairless, with well-defined pecs, and the rippling muscles of his biceps, back, and washboard abs, kept distracting her, making her mouth water and her pussy gush. He wore a pair of faded Levis that hung low on his narrow hips and hugged his nicely rounded ass. They did nothing to hide the hard-on bulging behind the zipper. God, he was so damn sexy! When he saw her staring at his crotch, her tongue coming out to lick her lower lip, he merely smiled, that slow, sexy upward curving of his lips that always made her belly roll.
Of course, he was equally distracted by her, since she was completely naked. When she’d balked earlier at his instruction, he’d gone all sanctimonious Dom on her. “Whenever we’re alone in this house, Sarah, this is how I want you, naked and aroused, ready for my use.”
Holy Moley! I am aroused, all right! Goosebumps rippled across her skin like a wheat field in the breeze as she shivered in anticipation. Her pussy was flooded with juice, dribbling down onto the tops of her thighs. Her nipples were hard and distended, like two red, ripe raspberries. The sight made him hungry for something that had nothing to do with breakfast. Something that was pure, sweet Sarah, the taste of whom he had been craving with an addict’s intensity for ten years.
While he plated the omelets, Sarah buttered several biscuits, placing three on his plate and one on hers. He got some honey from the pantry, while she poured two glasses of orange juice. She filled their mugs with their second steaming cups of coffee, adding milk and sugar to hers, and placed them on a square table with a thick, beveled glass top and scrolled wrought iron legs. It was located in a spacious alcove that afforded them a view of both the woods surrounding Jesse’s large, cliff-top house and the tumbling river below.
He came up behind her and leaned over her, his arms on either side of her body as he placed the plates on the inch-thick beveled glass surface. Removing the oven mitts, he tossed them over his shoulder in the general direction of the sink. They both landed neatly side by side at the bottom of the stainless steel basin.
“Nice shot,” she said approvingly.
He shrugged. “You should see me load a grocery cart.”
Pulling out her chair, he instructed, “Spread your legs wide, sugar. Hook your ankles around the legs of the chair.” He waited until she had complied before pushing it back in and going around to take his own seat.
Throughout the meal, he stared at her, her glistening pussy completely visible through the glass tabletop, his lustful gaze increasing her arousal to the point of discomfort. She was sitting in a block
of sunlight shining through the unshuttered, uncurtained window. It made her skin shimmer as if brushed with the dust of a thousand pearls.
When they finished eating, Jesse made her stay in her seat while he quickly cleared off the table and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Then he came back and pulled her chair out. “Stand up and turn around,” he commanded, gripping her shoulders and turning her himself, just in case she’d suddenly lost the ability to understand English. She’d certainly lost the ability to speak English. She couldn’t even begin the process of selecting vowels and consonants to form words. It was simply beyond her at this point. He was going to fuck her again. And, God help her, she could hardly wait.
His black eyes bore into hers and she gripped his muscular forearms with her hands to keep from drowning in the turbulence of their depths. “Sit.” He patted the top of the table and she lifted herself up onto the surface, one hip at a time. The smooth, polished glass was cool against her ass cheeks. The edge of the wrought iron frame dug into the flesh of her thighs. “Spread your legs.”
With deliberate slowness, she did as he ordered, noting with satisfaction the flames that leaped in the depths of his eyes as he stared hungrily at her glistening sex.
“Um, Jesse? Isn’t this just the teeniest bit…unsanitary?”
“So report me to the Board of Health.” He growled, his sudden grin ravishing her, making her moan.
Pulling the chair up behind him, he sat, placing his face on the same level as her pussy. He grabbed her knees, spreading them farther apart, lifting her legs to place her bare feet flat on the tabletop. “Lie down.” As she lay back, he pulled her hips forward until they were perched at the very edge of the table. He leaned forward, inhaling deeply. “Christ, sugar, you smell so good.” He blew the air back out, gusting it across her swollen, aching flesh. She let out a yelp, nearly coming up off the table. Lifting his hand, he pushed her back down. He kept his hand on her chest, stroking the satin skin of her breasts, plumping one of them and flicking his thumb across her nipple like a lash.
She moaned and tossed her head as hot pleasure jolted from her nipple straight to her cunt. She sucked in a jagged breath, just as the tip of Jesse’s tongue fluttered against the throbbing nub of her clit, peeking out from behind its hood. A high-pitched wail ruptured her throat as his tongue swirled lazily around the swollen, sensitive bit of flesh. “Oh, God, Jesse, that feels so good! Don’t stop! Please don’t stop—”
He chuckled, lipping and tugging the fleshy flap of skin between licks. “I have no intention of stoppin’, baby,” he said against her shivering flesh. “At least, not until you’ve come a few more times.” The dark promise in his voice forced the breath from her body in a sharp, shuddering moan that evoked an answering moan from him. He suckled her with increasing enthusiasm until she was thrashing about wildly on the table, back arching, hips bucking, moans splintering the back of her throat.
Soon both of his hands were on her breasts, tugging her nipples, twisting them between his thumbs and forefingers, causing a sharp, stinging pain that made her grab his wrists, trying to push them away from her. But as the pain zapped straight to her clit, gradually morphing into an indescribable pleasure, she changed her grip on his hands, to hold them in place, pushing herself more fully against him. Nobody had ever touched her like this before. And she wanted more of it. Much more.
“Christ, sugar, I love your tits,” he growled between deep swipes of his tongue against her clit. “I love how hard and red your nipples get.”
Pleasure pierced her, invading every cell of her body, turning her blood to molten lava in her veins. It scorched her as pressure built inside her, getting tighter and tighter as her orgasm mounted. Every breath was a struggle, every heartbeat a crash of thunder in her ears. “Oh, God, Jesse, I’m coming! I’m coming!” Her back arched into a rigid bow up off the table as her climax sent her hurtling toward the sun.
“Come, Sarah!”
She screamed, exploding into a white-hot cataclysm of fire that burned her lungs, boiled her blood, and incinerated her flesh. Pleasure pulverized her, smashing her into a million blazing embers that careened crazily through the blackness behind her eyelids.
She was still crying and shuddering with aftershocks when Jesse thrust three fingers into her sheath and began to fuck her with them, renewing his exquisite torture of her quivering clit.
Her second climax crashed over her like a tsunami, the waves continuing for what seemed like forever, leaving her exhausted and boneless and so weak her feet slipped off the edge of the table.
“Put them back up there.” Jesse growled against her clit, but her efforts to obey him were fruitless. It was like trying to get dead fish to swim. Her legs simply would not obey her brain’s commands, so Jesse lifted them, draping them over his shoulders. Her thighs gripped his head convulsively as he placed his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her to his mouth.
He closed his lips over her clit and sucked hard, drawing the supersensitized nubbin of flesh into his hot, hot mouth.
She shrieked, arching up off the table in a bow as he flicked his tongue across the swollen little button of flesh, back and forth, up and down, round and round, lapping up her thick, sweet cream like a contented cat, as he stroked her to a third orgasm. Her climax heaved through her exhausted body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. The pulsing waves of pleasure kept her thrashing and sobbing for several long minutes.
While she was still mindless with the pleasure he’d given her, Jesse stood and unzipped his jeans. Before they cleared the tops of his thighs, he grabbed her buttocks and pressed his hips forward. She shrieked again as he powered into her, setting off another orgasm that sent a series of shockwaves through her like the tremors of an earthquake.
Draping her useless legs over his forearms, he grabbed her hips and held her in place as he fucked her hard, slamming his rock-hard cock in and out of her convulsing vagina. “Jesus, Sarah,” he gasped, “you’re so damn hot. Fuckin’ you is like fuckin’ fire!”
As his climax shot up the length of his cock, he rammed his hips tight against her, burying himself so deeply inside, it was as though he were trying to merge both their bodies into one. The gripping walls of her cunt clamped down on his penis, and they came together in a volcanic burst of pleasure that had them both shouting out as the explosion blasted them to the depths of their souls.
Gasping for breath, Jesse collapsed over her as semen shot out of him in thick, ropy spurts. Too weak to stand, he sank back into the chair, pulling her off the table to straddle his lap, facing him, his cock still hard and pulsing inside her.
Sarah lay crumpled against him, her head resting on his sweat-slicked chest, too exhausted to lift her arms around his neck. They hung limply down at her sides. He held her while they both struggled to catch their breath. The only sound she made was a low moan when his cock slipped from her wet heat. Hot juices gushed out of her, dribbling down onto the chair they were sitting in.
“Sarah,” he whispered, grazing his lips across her cheek, her eyes, her nose, unable to comprehend or process the emotions rampaging through him. “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.” His hand stroked up and down her sweaty back, as his lips continued their foray across the contours of her face. “You take my breath away, darlin’ girl. Do you realize you’ve had nearly a dozen orgasms in less than three hours?”
She moaned softly. “I’ve never come so many times in my life.”
“Me neither.” He heaved a tremendous sigh. “I didn’t even know it was possible. I’ve never stayed hard like this before, Sarah. Not with any woman. Ever.” Lifting his feet, he kicked off his jeans, then scooted forward in the chair. Placing his forearms beneath her butt, he stood and carried her out of the kitchen, through the great room and up the stairs to the bedroom. “Shower?” he asked against her ear as he paused in the doorway. “Or nap?”
“Nap. Unless I can combine them and nap in the shower.”
He lowered her onto the bed, where
she lay without moving, a limp, sticky puddle of satiated flesh. She was already asleep. He went into the bathroom, wet a washcloth, picked up a hand towel, then returned to the bed, where he cleaned up the residue between her legs and wiped her dry. Then he cleaned himself and got into bed beside her. Pulling up the covers, he drew her back against him, curving his arm protectively around her waist.
She didn’t stir. And within just a few minutes, neither did he.
When they awoke, it was late afternoon. Sunlight filtered through the windows, dappling the bedspread. Even before she opened her eyes, Sarah knew something was off. She was lying on her side and her left leg was…up in the air? And her hands—where are my hands?
Reflexively, she jerked her arms, only to realize that they were both stretched above her head. Her wrists were shackled together and handcuffed to the headboard. As the fuzz slowly cleared from her brain she became aware of several more things. Jesse was tight up against her back and his cock was sandwiched between the slick, swollen folds of her vulva, soaking in her pussy juice, like a marinating steak. “Um, Jesse?”
He flexed his hips, sliding his cock through her slit, the satiny head just grazing her clit. She hissed in a sharp breath, her heart floundering in her breast, unable to find its normal rhythm. “Do I have your attention, Princess?”
Hoo boy, did he ever! “Um…you could say that.”
“Good. Now there are several things I need to know before we proceed. I expect you to answer me honestly.”
Gulp. “Okay.” I think.
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass?”
Holy crap! While she’d heard of it, it wasn’t something she had ever considered for herself. The very idea sent unexpected shivers up her spine. She was still for a long time before finally answering, “No,” in a quavering little voice.
Loving Sarah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 15
