Bachelor Untamed

by Brenda Jackson

  He met her eyes. “I’m a stickler for safe sex, Ellie, and assure you I’m in good physical shape and I get regular checkups, so I know I’m healthy and free of anything.” Now that the issue of birth control had been resolved, he felt the need to address another concern.

  She nodded. “And I’m healthy as well,” she followed his lead by saying. “I get a checkup annually.”

  Satisfied they had talked about what needed discussing, he leaned up and lowered his mouth to hers, to return her to the state she was in before the interruption. It seemed every bone in his body was on fire at the thought of making love to her in a way he had never done with another woman.

  He couldn’t help but revel in the sensations that kissing her this way evoked, and she clung to his mouth, accepting all he was doing to hers: feeding greedily, without any restraint. And the thought of making love to her the same way made his erection throb that much more. It was begging for attention, demanding it.

  He pulled away from her mouth to raise his body slightly, then to straddle her, to pin her to the huge bed. He reached down to the juncture of her legs and touched her wetness. He had tasted it earlier and knew she was ready. So was he.

  He met her gaze when he settled his body in place, so that his erection was right at her entrance. He wanted to be looking into her face, staring into her eyes when he entered her. He wanted to see her expression the moment she felt his unsheathed shaft. Knowing he couldn’t hold back any longer, he leaned to her ear, whispered what he intended to do once he got inside her, and when he watched the blush that colored her cheeks, he met her gaze as he slowly entered her.

  He kept his eyes locked with hers as he inched slowly, taking his time, savoring each second. She was tight—in a way, too tight to have done this before, and he decided the man before him hadn’t known what the hell he was doing. Only when he finally felt her body opening for him, taking him in, letting him forge his way to the hilt, did he release her gaze to lean forward and take her mouth with his.

  The kiss—along with the fact that he was buried deep inside of her, and could feel her muscles tighten around him—made him shudder in a way he’d never before done while making love to a woman. He began moving, then withdrawing and thrusting back inside, over and over again. As he did, he threw his head back, thinking this much pleasure was not possible, but every deep stroke into her body only proved that it was.

  He pulled his mouth from hers and threw his head back to let out one hell of a fierce growl, and his body trembled with a need that had him panting for breath. She screamed then and it echoed off the walls and ricocheted into him, causing him to thrust harder into her, lifting her hips under him, until the force of his release threatened to consume them both.

  He greedily took her mouth as the orgasm tore into him, shredding his body into a million pieces and letting him feel each slice cut straight to the core of him, a part he’d always kept well protected. But not now. At this moment, it was open, raw, totally exposed, and he was powerless to fight it.

  When the sensations finally ran their course, he felt weakened, totally spent. He slumped down upon her, his muscles unable to move. He’d had orgasms before, but none had left him feeling so sated, so drained. Struggling to ease his weight off her, he pulled her into his arms, and wrestled with what he was feeling, trying to fully understand why making love with Ellie had been so intense, so different and so mind-blowingly perfect.

  No, he would think about that later. Much later. For now, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms while the magnificent sensations rushed through him, leaving him blissfully sated, splendidly drained and gloriously weak.

  Ellie sat cross-legged in the bed and stared at Uriel while he slept. He was sleeping so peacefully that, if it hadn’t been for the slow movement of his chest denoting he was breathing, she would have wondered if he was still alive.

  Over the years, she’d often heard her mother remark about her father’s snoring. It was just the opposite with Uriel. If it hadn’t been for the warm, hard body that had been next to her, and the solid arms that had held her close all through the night—she would not have known he was in the bed. He had been just that soundless and motionless.

  She had never spent the entire night with a man before, and when she awakened during the night it had felt odd. But knowing the man was Uriel had comforted her, and she had closed her eyes and returned to peaceful slumber.

  Now she was wide awake and she couldn’t help but sit there and watch him sleep, while remembering all the sensations he had stirred within her. When she had reached the peak of sexual fulfillment, not once but twice during the same lovemaking session, her orgasms had been nothing like she’d ever experienced before. And Uriel had made it happen.

  She angled her head as she continued to stare at him. She had never known a more assured man, confident in his abilities. He didn’t just talk the talk, he delivered. He had made good on his promise to make her incapable of speaking for a while. She doubted she could speak now. She had very little to say, since she was still in awe of it all. In awe of it and in awe of him, but then it was hard to separate the two.

  She glanced over at the clock. It was close to six in the morning, and the sun was peeking up over the mountains. Typically, on most mornings, he would be up, dressed in his gym shorts and in the backyard working out. But today, after a night spent with her, he was still asleep, with no signs of waking up.

  Ellie smiled. She would love to think she had worn him out after their night of lovemaking. She would be the first to admit it had been intense.

  A small piece of lint off the bedspread had settled in his hair and she wondered if she could remove it without waking him. She leaned over and reached out, and when he suddenly opened his eyes, her hand froze in midair. His dark, intense eyes met hers, and she wondered if he was trying to figure out where he was and why they were in the same bed. She pulled her hand back. “There’s a piece of lint in your hair and I was going to get it out,” she explained.

  He held fast to her gaze and asked in a voice that was raspy from sleep, “Is there?”

  “Yes.”

  His gaze slowly moved from her eyes and shifted upward to her hair. “What do you know? There’s a piece of lint in yours as well.”

  And then he reached out and his hand first went to her hair, before he cupped his hand behind her neck and drew her face down to his, capturing her mouth.

  Ellie was so absorbed in the kiss that it took her a while to notice he had shifted positions again and she was now underneath him. After an intense mating session with their tongues, he pulled back and let his gaze run over her. “You put your gown back on,” he said in a throaty murmur.

  She smiled up at him. “Yes. Aren’t you going to go work out this morning?”

  He lifted a brow. “And how do you know I work out every morning?”

  She shrugged innocently. “It was a lucky guess.”

  Tilting his head, he studied her for a moment and then said, “I don’t think so. Have you been spying on me again?”

  She pretended to be taken aback by his accusation and had to keep the laughter out of her voice when she said, “I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing, Uri.”

  When he didn’t say anything but continued to study her face, she finally asked, “Well, aren’t you going to say something?”

  He smiled. “Yes. Do you want to work out with me?”

  She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She recalled what he did while working out, and it looked too strenuous for her. Besides, he was too good at it, and there was no way she could keep up. “No, thank you.”

  “You sure? I can tone things down a bit.”

  “Don’t bother. Besides, I never liked jumping rope anyway.”

  “And how do you know I jump rope?”

  Too late. She’d been caught. She wondered how she was going to get out of this one, then decided to use the same reason she’d used earlier. “I guessed.”

  “Once a
gain, I don’t think so. That means you will be working out with me this morning, and we’ll start with my version of push-ups. But first I need to get rid of this.” Rising on his knees, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he removed her nightgown.

  Then he kissed the surprised gasp from her lips, and by the time he took his mouth away, she felt her bones seem to soften like jelly. “Now,” he whispered close to her mouth as he straddled her body, “this is how it’s done.”

  And he proceeded to show her.

  Chapter 12

  Through exhausted eyes, Uriel watched the delicious sway of Ellie’s naked hips as she left the bed to go to the bathroom.

  He forced his body to roll over, trying to recall just how many push-ups he’d actually done, so many he’d lost count. The only thing he remembered was that her body had been the mat, and each time he’d lowered down to it, his shaft had been dead center to enter her. The tempo had been quick and rapid, the strokes sure and precise, and when an orgasm tore into her, it tore into him as well; and the final time he came down on her, he locked in to her tightly, as his release exploded inside of her.

  He closed his eyes, remembering his vow that last night would be the one and only time he made love to her without a condom. But a condom had been the last thing on his mind every time he’d lowered his body to hers, felt the connection, went inside of her, felt how her inner muscles had tried to clench him before he’d quickly pull out, only to push back in. That had been one hell of a workout, one he doubted he would ever forget.

  He opened his eyes when he heard the shower going and had every intention of joining her there. But first he needed to get a second wind. When had any woman made him do that? He glanced over at the clock. It was past ten already. When was the last time he’d stayed in bed this long? Hell, he could barely remember what day it was. All he remembered was how it felt being inside of Ellie, making love to her, releasing a part of himself inside of her.

  Uriel closed his eyes again, reliving the moment. He snagged her pillow and buried his face in it, needing to breathe in her scent. He felt at peace, relaxed, sleepy—and although he wanted to join her in the shower, he gave in to sleep.

  Ellie stood on her back porch with a cup of coffee in her hand, while gazing out at the lake. It would be another beautiful day because the most beautiful man was upstairs sleeping in her bed. She had expected him to join her in the shower and had been surprised when he hadn’t. When she had dried off, and slipped into a pretty pink shorts set, and returned to the bedroom, he was sleeping like a baby.

  Going downstairs, she had taken her laptop and—remembering where her aunt’s manuscript ended—she picked up from there, to pen her own words, and had been surprised to see just how easily her thoughts had flowed. It had been a scene where Grant and Tamara had met for lunch, and later Grant had invited her to his house. There had been no doubt in either of their minds what would happen when they got there.

  Ellie had been surprised just how easily the dialogue had come to her, and she could actually feel the chemistry between them as she typed each word. It was as if she had gotten into their heads. She’d known each time Grant had wanted to reach out and touch Tamara but had fought the urge to do so, still thinking he didn’t need or want a woman in his life.

  Ellie had not written the lovemaking scene, deciding she wanted her full concentration when she did so, and didn’t want to have to worry about Uriel walking in on her and possibly asking questions about what she was doing.

  After what they’d shared the night before, she felt inspired, in awe and quietly resigned to the fact that Uriel could stir up passion within her as if it was his right. And those pushups…

  Where on earth did he come up with this kind of stuff? He had placed his body in perfect formation over her, his chest flat, arms shoulder level, feet apart and parallel. Even after the first contact with her body, he had kept his body straight, although he had cheated a few times by bringing down his hips for deeper penetration. He thrust inside of her each time he lowered his body, inhaling as he did so, only to exhale when he would raise his body from inside her. He had done two sets of fifty, and she hadn’t been able to handle any more, and had tumbled over into an orgasm so strong it nearly drowned them. It seemed her orgasm triggered his, and they both had gotten washed away. She had discovered firsthand just what strong muscles he had.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  She swung around. Uriel was standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in his hand, and the only stitch of clothing he had on was the gym shorts from last night. Now in the daylight, she could see just how scandalous those shorts looked on him, exposing his muscled thighs and strong legs. She knew how those legs felt cradling hers.

  She moved her gaze from the lower part of his body back to his face, and noted the sleepy look in his eyes. Sleepy and sensually hazed over. “I figured you needed your rest,” she said, her gaze slipping back to his shorts, specifically the middle, and what was so obvious. Could he be aroused this morning already? But then she’d heard that some men woke up with erections that had nothing to do with sexual desire. However, with the way Uriel was looking at her, she wasn’t so sure.

  “Have you eaten breakfast already?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

  She smiled. “No. Are you hungry? I can throw something together in—”

  “The reason I asked is because I wanted to treat you to breakfast this morning. I had a good week fishing, and I know how much you like fried fish. At least, you used to like it.”

  Her smile widened. “I still do.”

  “Then give me a chance to shower and get things set up outside. I’m going to use that big fryer Dad stored in one of the closets,” he said.

  “Wonderful! Is there’s something I can do? Anything you need me to bring?”

  He didn’t say anything as his gaze moved over her, and she could tell by the way he looked at her that he liked her outfit. Figuring she’d be alone at the lake, she’d purchased several shorts sets that were comfortable, feminine and so easy to wear. She’d also figured it’d be hot, although not this kind of hot. The way Uriel stared at her had her blood nearly boiling.

  “Uriel?” She tried to get his attention away from her bare legs.

  His gaze roamed back up to her face. “Yes?”

  “I asked if there was something I could do and if you needed me to bring anything.”

  He moved away from the doorway and walked toward her. When he came to a stop in front of her, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. He then lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her in a slow, drugging fashion. The taste of coffee on her tongue mingled with the taste of him. But it wasn’t just his taste that she found intoxicating, it was the way he used his tongue. He was a master at making each and every kiss memorable.

  He pulled back, met her gaze and said in a husky voice, “I’ll let you know what you can do when you get there. And as far as bringing anything, just bring yourself. You will be more than plenty.”

  He moved away to walk down the steps, and then looked back at her, smiled and said, “I promise to return your coffee cup, but this is the best coffee I’ve drunk in a long time, Ellie Weston. You’re good at everything you do.”

  She watched him walk away, thinking that if his compliment was meant to butter her up for some reason, it was working.

  Ellie decided to prepare something to bring anyway. It was the least she could do, since he was frying the fish. And though it was close to noon, and breakfast had turned into brunch, she would bet any amount of money he would be cooking a pot of grits.

  It hadn’t taken her long to throw together a container of coleslaw, and while she was at it, she decided a nice desert was in order, so she had baked a batch of peanut-butter cookies, using her aunt’s recipe. She even made a pitcher of lemonade, Mable Weston’s own blend.

  While the cookies were baking, she sat at the kitchen table with her laptop. Although she couldn’t see him from where she sat, E
llie could hear the commotion Uriel was making as he set up the deep fryer outside. The last time she recalled it had been used was for Uriel’s eighteenth birthday party.

  His birthday was in September, but his parents had decided to celebrate a month early, since he would be leaving home and going off to college at the end of August—and it would have been the ideal time for his five godbrothers to attend. That had been the last time she had seen all six of them together. As she made her way over to Uriel’s, she thought it was wonderful that the men had stayed in contact all these years.

  “I was wondering when you would get here,” Uriel said, smiling at her when she appeared through the trees. He hurried over to take some of the items from her hands. He was wearing a pair of denim cutoffs and a T-shirt.

  “What’s all this?” he asked. “I thought I told you that you didn’t have to bring anything.”

  She returned his smile. “I know, but I couldn’t resist. There’s nothing like coleslaw to go along with fish and grits. And I couldn’t resist baking some of those peanut-butter cookies you love so much.”

  His eyes lit up. “You have your aunt’s recipe?”

  She laughed. “Of course. Aunt Mable left me everything.” She refrained from saying: including her unfinished manuscript. “I’ve even made a pitcher of lemonade that I need to go back to get.”

  She glanced around and saw he’d already placed several pieces of fish in the fryer. She knew they had been coated with his father’s fried fish batter recipe, and the aroma of mouth-watering fried fish was circulating through the air. “It seems like you have everything under control,” she said, smiling over at him.

  He grinned. “Did you doubt for one moment that I would?”