"Matty," she mumbled, tossing her head against the pillow. "Please, I…"
Don't look at the clock. Don't look at the clock. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Kayla and trying to read where she was at. Close, maybe, but not close enough that I was willing to risk all the progress I'd made by pushing it.
I worked my thumbs over her again, delving a little deeper and then groaning as the lace grew wet. Faster then, up and down, tracing that cleft, urging her to lift her hips a little so I could nudge her clit with the heels of my hands.
She was rocking then, riding my thumbs in a jerky rhythm and her catchy breaths became whimpers of frustration. "Please, Matty. I can't."
She could. I had no fucking doubt now, and the need to see it, to watch her face as she came apart in my hands consumed me.
"Roll over," I bit out through gritted teeth.
She shifted and rolled to her side. Her chest was heaving as she stared down at me through glassy eyes, so dark with need they looked almost black. "What if…”
"Shut up," I growled, tugging her legs wide for me again. "Don't talk. Don't think. Just close your eyes and feel."
I tugged her panties down her legs, and tossed them aside. I almost took the shoes off, but the most twisted part of me wanted to feel them digging into my back when she came. I'd be dreaming about those shoes for the next six months.
She was still staring down at me when I settled between her thighs again. I wanted her to feel comfortable but I had to see it. I looked down to see a narrow strip of red fire pointed straight to the sweet spot and I swallowed hard, needing a second to calm the fuck down.
I could feel a drop of cum leak out and I knew that the moment of opportunity was now. I had to make her come with my mouth because if I got inside her now, I'd never make it. My balls were already near bursting, the pressure and need to come so strong, one hard thrust and I'd be toast.
I took a long shuddering breath and opened my eyes again. Beautiful. The prettiest thing I'd ever laid eyes on. Creamy skin, plump lips already glistening for me. I swallowed hard and spread those lips open, baring her swollen pink clit. I tried to take it slow. To keep my shit together, but something clicked inside me and I lost it. On a muffled curse, I dove forward and closed my lips around it, nearly drowning in the sweet taste, the warm, woman smell of her. She let out a yelp as I massaged her clit with my tongue, flexing against the bed, desperate for something to relieve the ache in my cock. She bucked beneath me and I sucked harder, working her faster until her fingers clutched at my shoulders like talons.
"Matty, oh god." Her hips started to bounce and I switched gears, pulling back to lap at her gently, flicking lightly before rubbing again. Her broken gasps became sobs and she grabbed the back of my head.
"I can't. It's right there and I can't," she whimpered.
I knew how she felt, but her words didn't deter me. I stroked her with two fingers now as I worked her with my tongue, and then slid them inside her, firm and deep. When she screamed my name, it was so hot, the relief and excitement so sharp, I almost came myself. Her thighs clamped around my head, her whole body bucked and shook. I wanted to lift my head up, to watch her face, but I also wanted her to keep going…to ring every last second of sensation from it.
By the time it was over, I was a mass of need. It clawed at me, taking over all my senses and leaving nothing behind but an ache so thick it sucked the breath from my lungs. I covered up quickly and then positioned myself above her, flexing my hips, groaning the second her molten heat touched the head of my cock. I bent low and pressed my forehead against hers, and pressed down, driving my pelvis forward, plunging my stiff cock into her already tightening pussy.
She didn't say anything, but her whole body quaked and I could feel the pounding of her heart against mine.
"Okay?"
She nodded frantically and slid her legs around my hips pulling me deeper. The move tore a groan from me as her wet channel closed over me, squeezing like an unseen hand, dragging me closer to the edge.
"Try to stay still, babe," I begged, so close to coming I could feel the hot liquid pooling in my balls, locked and ready to fire, but not wanting it to be over yet.
"I can't stay still," she gasped. "Move. You have to move now!" Her voice broke and she cried out as I pulled back and slid home again in one long stroke.
"It's happening again," she whispered, her hands spasming on my hips. "Don't stop."
I pulled back and thrust again, fighting off the impending orgasm with every trick I knew. Steady, deep strokes, slow and then more quickly as I blocked out her cries and recited my times tables. Not thinking about that wet, sucking drag of her body. Ignoring the way her nipples branded my chest with every thrust. Pretending like the scream building in her throat wasn't the best sound I'd ever heard.
And then she was coming. Her whole body tensed and she yelled my name as she twitched and strained against me. I couldn't hold back for another instant and pounded into her one more time, burying myself to the hilt as I came in wild spurts. Lights exploded behind my eyelids as every nerve in my body came to life in one surge of sensation and her name tumbled from my lips in a rush.
Kayla.
***
Kayla
I was watching him sleep. I knew it was weird as hell, but I couldn't help it. It took everything I had not to trace the line of his lips and run my hands all over his body. He was like a master's sculpture and I couldn't get enough. After all those years of waiting and wondering, I finally knew what all the fuss was about, and damn if it hadn’t lived up to the hype. It was so beautiful, tears stung my eyes. It was him. Matty that had helped me break free and I could never repay him for that.
Right on the tail of all that warmth, a blast of despair so cold it chilled me to the core swept over me. What a spot to be in. I couldn't get enough of this guy, and I'd probably just had all I was ever going to get. It was like some level in the most dastardly video game ever. Because once he found out the rest of it, he'd never want to look at me again, never mind touch me.
I thought back to earlier at the warehouse and the look of betrayal on Matty's face. If he thought my not telling him about Mick being my dad was bad, what was he going to say when he found out what had happened afterward?
The last thing Mickey had said to me played in my head like a movie reel.
“I’m done with that little prick. Do you hear me?” he shouted, yanking the table cloth from the table, splattering food and wine all over the ring. “Fuck him. Do the fight you have planned and then, we set up a bout between him and Diego. Give Diego a great back story. Some Oliver Twist shit, add some pickpocketing in there, and some crap about how much he's suffered in his life. Then, when he wins, Diego will be the golden boy of the MMA world and the McDaniels kid can go fuck himself."
Matty shifted in his sleep and rolled to his side, away from me. I hunkered down deeper into the bed and spooned him, wrapping my arm tight around his trim waist, playing my fingers over his chest before laying my hand on his heart, wishing I could protect it.
Because this fight Mick had me setting up, Matty’s first shot at getting some recognition, was doomed to end in a loss. Not because Diego was better. But because Mick would have it no other way.
Matty would throw the match in round three, or my father was going to tear up his contract and squash Bash’s deal for his upcoming fight. Mickey was forcing him to choose between his own career and his brother's.
And once I told him, he was going to hate me forever.
Happy Birthday to me.
The End
Stay tuned for the second part of Matty and Kayla’s story, coming August, 2014!
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es by Chloe Cole, is also FREE right now with Kindle Unlimited!
When a gorgeous stranger rescues her from a vicious wolf attack, nature photographer Amalie Baptista can’t seem to fight the attraction to her savior. What she doesn't know is that giving in to him could mean giving up life as she knows it...
Alpha male Liam Albrecht is breaking every rule for the curvy, captivating Amalie, risking his place within the pack and his own life to protect her. As discord among the clans reaches a fever pitch, he must find a way to save her from the monsters among them.
Excerpt
The pain came before she even opened her eyes. Damn, it felt like someone had tried to rip her guts out. Amalie moved to sit up but regretted it immediately as the ache in her side went from throbbing to excruciating.
As if she’d beckoned them, memories crashed through the last of the grogginess and flitted through her brain like an old movie reel. Fur and teeth and blood…
Holy shit. Someone —no, something— had tried to rip her guts out. She’d been attacked by a wolf.
She squeezed her eyes closed again and tried to hone in on details. She remembered the wolf running off and the dark-haired stranger rescuing her, but then it was a total blank, no matter how hard she thought. After another minute, she gave up as her head began to pound from the effort.
She crabbed backward, kicking off the covers and sitting up gingerly. A chill swept over her as she realized she had nothing on but an oversized T-shirt. Someone had changed her clothing as well.
Footsteps sounded outside the doorway and she scuttled back under the blankets, covering herself from chin to toes. Probably a silly reaction. Her visitor was likely the man who had saved her from bleeding to death. Odds were he wasn’t going to molest her. Then again, maybe he was some creeper who’d helped her just so he could starve her and then Buffalo Bill her later.
A soft knock sounded.
“May I come in?” a deep, oddly familiar voice called through the door.
“Yes.” After all, if he planned on making a dress out of her skin, would he really have knocked?
The door swung open, and she recognized him immediately: the stranger who’d helped her. Stepping into the room, he closed the door behind him. Her breath came out in a gasp as she met his gaze in the dim light.
He was beautiful. Over six feet tall with dark hair, he was muscular without being bulky and his face was carved from stone. The severity of his straight nose and sharp cheekbones was undercut by the raw sensuality of his sculpted mouth. But it was his eyes she was drawn to again and again. So familiar, a mix of gold and green she’d seen only once before, they burned into hers with an intensity that made her shiver.
What was happening to her?
Liam drank in the sight of the striking woman lying in his bed and fought a surge of possessiveness. From the second he’d laid eyes on her, he’d suffered a fierce and puzzling need to claim her. She was lovely, to be sure. A little softer, more rounded than the women he was used to, but in a way he found compelling, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to grip her full hips in his hands and-
He shoved the thought away and tried to keep his voice calm and his presence as non-threatening as possible. Not an easy feat when he wanted to lace his fingers into her sweet smelling hair and kiss her senseless. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he walked toward her.
“I’m okay. I mean, my side hurts and I have a terrible headache, but I’m okay.” She backed up on the bed, her eyes wide.
She looked like she was about to run screaming from the room, so he went to the fireplace under the pretense of adding wood in order to give her some space. The last thing he needed was for her to get spooked and take off. Then he’d have to chase her down, and that certainly wouldn’t earn her trust, which he desperately needed if he was going to get them out of this mess.
“Who are you?” she asked softly. “What were you doing out there? And how did you manage to get us away from the wolves?”
He paused a moment, trying to think of how to answer each question without scaring her, but knowing there was little time for coddling. Tomorrow night he had to meet the other packs armed with both a good explanation for his behavior and a resolution to the problem. Anything less would spell disaster.
He opted to give her bite-sized bits of information for now. Once she’d rested and they’d gotten her pain under control, he’d delve into the heavier, hard to swallow stuff.
“My name is Liam Albrecht. You’re in my home just outside of Pray, Montana, a few miles from where you were attacked. I was out hiking when I heard the commotion.” Jesus, when he’d seen her, bloodied and on her back, he’d nearly lost his mind.
He shoved the thought away and offered her what he hoped was a comforting smile. “Amalie Baptista, nature photographer, yes?”
She nodded wordlessly, eyes still glassy. He’d given her the basics, and before he said anything else, he needed to get her into a more stable frame of mind.
“I’m going to get you some food and something to drink. There’s some aspirin on your nightstand along with a bottle of water. I’ll be back soon. Try to rest while I’m gone. I’ll answer all of your questions when I get back. Don’t be afraid, Amalie. You’re safe here.” He turned to go, but her shrill call stopped him.
“Wait! Please, don’t go. Something…strange happened out there. I can’t remember, but I know something isn’t…” she trailed off, confusion clouding her dark eyes.
He hated leaving her like this, but she needed sustenance and time to rest. If she didn’t regain some of her strength before he told her the truth, the shock could send her into a tailspin.
“One hour. I promise.” He left, shutting the door behind him with a snap.
Yep. One hour before he had to tell beautiful, strong, amazing Amalie Baptista that her life would never be the same.
When he made his way back to the room with a dinner tray sixty minutes later, he knocked but received no answer. He let himself in, shutting the door behind him, and looked toward the bed. She was sprawled out, dressed in only his T-shirt, the blankets kicked to the floor during what appeared to be a fitful sleep. He set the tray on a table next to the bed with every intention of leaving, but his mouth went dry as he stood over her. Man, was she gorgeous. Long, shapely legs and that plump ass… He pushed away the carnal thoughts.
She muttered softly in her sleep and he strained to understand what she was saying, but all he could make out was the word “hot.” Unfortunately, that was enough. He’d hoped for another half a day, maybe more, to work up to an explanation before she began to show any symptoms. Now, however, it seemed he’d be lucky if he had a few hours before she sensed something amiss within her. The time for coddling was over.
He laid his hand gently on her back and spoke her name to wake her. She was indeed hot, the heat of her skin burning through the T-shirt and heating the skin of his hand.
Amalie instantly pressed back toward his touch. She moaned, and he swore under his breath as he tried to remain detached. He needed to help her deal with the changes she was going through, not take advantage of her weakness.
As he moved to pull his hand away, she protested, rolling onto her back. Eyes still closed, she sat up and tugged the T-shirt over her head. She sank back onto the bed, naked but for the bandage on her side, and he wanted to throw his head back and howl. Her breasts were magnificent, golden and full, and blood rushed to his groin at the sight. The need to cover her…to make her his…to slide his cock in and out until she screamed his name, was almost overwhelming.
She took his hand again, and pressed it to her shoulder, moving it down her arm, then back up and over to the other arm. The whole time, she made sleepy, sexy humming sounds in the back of her throat.
He groaned out loud, trying desperately to steel himself against her silken skin and erotic murmurs. She wasn’t herself. The hunger was upon her, and she was caught in the throes. He needed to put a stop to this, but he simply
couldn’t muster the will to pull away.
Her eyes flickered open and she peered at him through a thick fringe of black lashes. Her face was flushed, her brown eyes glassy, her breathing coming in short, choppy gasps. “I feel…funny. Hot,” she murmured. “But no pain at all. What did you give me? Surely aspirin wouldn’t have helped that much. Everything seems so crisp and clear. And something is strange. I should be mortified right now. But I’m entirely unconcerned about being naked in front of you.”
In fact, as her gaze raked over his body, she seemed rather put out that he wasn’t naked as well. Taking the hand she still held, she cradled her cheek with his palm. Then, with slow but infinite purpose, she dragged his fingertips down her neck and across her breast. She arched into his grasp until he cupped her, whimpering as her nipple pebbled beneath his touch. Another blade of lust sliced through him and he pulled his hand back as if burned. The second he escaped her grasp, she trapped him again, this time, winding her arms around his neck. He tugged at her wrists, but her mouth was on his, open and hot. She licked at him gently, pressing for entry and he couldn’t refuse her.
Helplessly, almost of its own volition, his hand moved back to cover her breast, kneading first one then the other. So soft. So lush. He growled and she growled back, biting and sucking at his bottom lip.
Insanity. It was pure insanity, and he could no more stop it than he could the moon from rising.
She used her weight to draw him down, slowly, inexorably toward the bed next to her. Once he was seated, she wasted no time, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. She pressed her sweet heat against his denim-encased erection and pushed his mouth to her breast. Thoughts of refusing her sizzled away again at the sight of her naked flesh offered so willingly. He latched onto her nipple and sucked hard, his body temperature sky-rocketing as she rhythmically ground her softness against his throbbing cock.
Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 1 of 3 (The McDaniels Brothers) Page 8
