Running Wild

by Susan Andersen

  She tightened her grip on him and all ten of her fingernails pricked his skin. “I don’t want more careful. I want down-and-dirty, total out-of-control, runaway, wild and woolly sex.”

  Aw, Jesus, girl, you’re killin’ me, here. But he met her hot-eyed look coolly. “And I’ll give you that—just as soon as some of your skin grows back.”

  She uttered a derisive snort, but he continued to hold her gaze. “Lack of pain doesn’t have to mean boring, darlin’.” But that set his brain to speculating and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Unless...you into that?”

  She guffawed. “Oh, hells to the no.”

  He shot her a cocky smile. “Then I promise to make you scream.”

  “I’m holding you to that. And if you don’t, I’m calling a do-over—and we will be doing it my way.”

  “Deal.” Cupping the back of her head, he tugged her closer. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  She did, and within moments her enthusiasm had severely undermined his much-lauded control. Their breathing grew choppy and, dying to get his hands on more of her, Finn slid one free to cup her breast. Her nipple drilled into his palm like a tungsten carbide bit and, shifting his hand, he slid his thumb to squeeze it against the side of his index finger. Then gave it a tug.

  She moaned and he grinned against her mouth, which made her lift her head, separating their lips. “What?”

  “Sensitive nipples. I wonder if I can make you come just by playing with them.”

  “Pfffft.” With an as-if look, Mags sat up on him. But when she tucked her bent knees next to his hips he saw her wince and he brought his hands down to wrap around her hips and raise her as he, too, sat up. “Sit in my lap and straighten your legs the way you did earlier.”

  As soon as she complied, he lifted her until her breasts were on a level with his eyes. But instead of checking them out up close, he looked into her eyes.

  And licked his lips. “Lose the bra.”

  “Ooh.” She wiggled on him even as she reached for the clasp behind her, an action that all but thrust her tits in his face. “I just love me a forceful man.”

  Without lowering his gaze, he moved to catch a nipple between his teeth, loving how heavy-lidded her eyes grew, how her cheeks flushed. Lightly grinding the lace against the stiff point, he raised his eyebrows, then gave the sweet bead a hard suck and turned it loose. “Handy, that,” he growled. “I like being forceful.”

  * * *

  THE SENSITIVE SHEATH deep between Mags’s legs clenched hard and her brain blanked out for a second. Then... Omigawd, she thought. Oh. My. Ga-a-awd.

  Okay, so she’d never actually been with a genuinely forceful guy before—or at least not the kind who watched her when he did things to her, who said things that weren’t really dirty or anything, but made her crazy aroused.

  But if the way Finn made her feel was any indication, this was going to be good. She licked her lips and unhooked her bra, shimmying it down her arms and tossing it aside.

  Still, protested her inner I-do-things-my-way self.

  She’d started this rodeo; did she really want him wresting control out of her hands? Hooking her arms around his neck, she chafed her now bare breasts against his chest. And leaned forward to lightly grasp the lobe of his ear between her teeth. “How ’bout you lose those shorts,” she said in a low voice. It wasn’t a question.

  “Feeling a little forceful yourself, are you?” He pulled his head back just far enough to slide his earlobe free, then lowered his chin to catch her bottom lip between his own strong teeth. “Who do you think’s more likely to win that contest?”

  His tongue touched her lip with the th and L sounds and closed around it pronouncing more, making her shiver. But looking him straight in the eye, she said, “Me, of course.”

  He laughed, freeing her lip. “Not even close, baby.” He flopped backward and reached between them for the zipper of his fly. Given the usual bird racket and the noise of the river outside, she shouldn’t have been able to hear the soft sound of its teeth disengaging. Yet somehow it seemed preternaturally loud in the tent’s quieter interior. She startled slightly when he said, “Lift up so I can shuck these babies as commanded.”

  She got her feet under her and raised her butt. The backs of his hands brushed her as he crunched up to push his shorts down. He bicycled them to his ankles and kicked them free. She lowered her hips again—and found herself sitting on his bare penis.

  “Holy crap!” She stared down at its darkish head and the two or so inches of hard, veiny shaft showing in front of the mocha lace of her panties’ crotch and slid backward to see more. “You didn’t say you weren’t wearing any undies!”

  “Men don’t wear undies,” he said in disgust. “That’s for little kids and you chicks. Men go commando.”

  She wiggled even farther back onto his thighs and his dick sprang free. Reflexively she reached out to grab it, but then ignored it for a second to bounce her free fist off her chest and give a guy grunt. “Big man eat nails and crack open nuts on head.” She had to admit, however, that the girth she’d wrapped her hand around felt very manlike and she stroked him through her fist.

  Finn hissed in a breath and arched his hips to push into her grip.

  She grinned down at him. “Who’s your mama, now, hotshot?”

  His eyelashes tangled in the outer corners when he narrowed them at her. “You did not just say that.”

  She merely gave him a brash smile and waggled her eyebrows at him.

  “I am so gonna own you.” Gripping her hips, he lifted her an inch or two until her breasts were level with his mouth, then he latched on to her left nipple.

  “Oh!” Lust was an electrified arrow shooting straight to the jangling nerve center between her legs. Her head dropped back and her hand slid away from his erection as she grabbed for his shoulders, anchoring herself with her nails. She watched him through slitted eyes as he worked his tongue against her nipple’s underside, pressing it against the roof of his mouth. His cheeks hollowed with each slow, strong suck.

  She didn’t realize she’d been supporting her own weight until one of his hands left her hip to move inward. Hooking the leg elastic of her undies aside, he burrowed his thumb between the drenched lips of her sex and glided up its slick furrow. A needy sound escaped her as the rough pad of his thumb bumped over her straining clitoris.

  He stilled for a nanosecond, then looking up at her, drew harder yet on her breast and made a second pass at her clit.

  “Finn!” Oh, God, she was so, so close. “I need you in me. Now.”

  He released her nipple with a pop, lowered her to sit on his upper thighs and cast a frustrated glance at his backpack. “Shit. The condoms are clear over there.”

  He started to set her aside but she locked her ankles behind his back to prevent it. The movement pulled her forward to press right up against his hard-on and they both moaned.

  “No,” she said with faux calmness, pleased to be the first to recover—if one could call all this thumping desire pulsating through her every nerve ending a recovery. She reached beside her to flip back the top edge of the sleeping bag.

  Beneath it were a handful of Bareskins in their black foil-wrapped glory. XL, no less—although, please, like all rubbers wouldn’t stretch to accommodate a fricking bowling ball? “I grabbed a few from your gallon baggie.” Her lips twisted in a half smile. “You certainly are an optimistic guy.”

  His eyes were so dark and hot, they all but smoked. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  Her damn Finn-aware channel clenched once again and she grabbed up a condom and tore its foil package open with her teeth. She’d been unconsciously rocking herself against his erection and scooted back now to give herself room to suit him up. “C’mon, c’mon,” she whispered as she fumbled the job, and Finn’s hand closed over hers.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “Much more of you touching me and things might be over before they begin.”

  “Don’t want that.” She k
icked off her panties.

  “Nope. Really don’t. There.” He’d had his eye on the job at hand, so to speak, but looked up to shoot her a grin. “C’mere, you.”

  She didn’t wait for a second invitation, but rather scooted forward and, bracing her hands on his wide shoulders, raised herself above the thrust of his sex.

  His big hands grasped her butt to steady her and she delved between them to align his hard-on with her opening. Holding him in place, she slowly lowered herself. As the head of his penis penetrated her, she sighed out, “Ohhhhh.”

  “Oh, hell, yeah.” His voice was low and raspy and his hands moved to her hips as though to press her all the way down. But he didn’t, even though her legs, in their lap-sitting—or in this case, lap-hovering—position, were beginning to tremble. “God, you feel good. You’re so tight.”

  She clenched around him.

  Finn groaned, then met her gaze head-on. “So talk does it for ya, huh?”

  She tipped her nose up but lowered her hips another inch as she lied without a qualm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Mags Deluca has pretty tits and a tight pus—”

  Clench, clench. She slapped a hand over his mouth. But, dammmmmn. “Okay, maybe I like it a little.”

  He removed the hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’d say more than a little.” His smile was knowing. “But, sure, let’s go with that.”

  Oh. It was so time to grab hold of the reins and see if she couldn’t wipe some of that cockiness off his face. She relinquished the control she’d been maintaining over her thigh muscles and, dropping smoothly, impaled herself fully. But when she darn near came at the feel of him, so hard and deep inside of her, she had to question the intelligence of the move.

  God, he felt good, though. And that was before he began to move.

  The way they were situated, with her on his lap facing him, their range of motion was limited. But sitting loosely cross-legged beneath her, Finn did the butterfly wing thing with his knees, letting them rise one moment to slide her up his hard-on, then pressing them toward the mat the next, sinking her back down on him.

  It caused that crazy itch inside her to build and build, yet something in the position wasn’t working. Well, it was working—in the respect that it felt amazing. But it wasn’t enough to push her over. “I can’t...” He had a grip on her butt and she made an involuntary shrugging-off motion. “Let go for a second.”

  His hands slid away. “Not doing it for you?”

  “It feels so good—but it’s just not quite right.” She licked her lips. “I can’t—” She planted her feet next to his hips. “You want to straighten your legs?” They must be going numb by now.

  “I do.” He did so with alacrity, and having more room to move and the leverage of her feet under her, Mags raised her hips, then slapped them back down. And— “Oh, God—there!”

  “Yeah?” He grinned at her.

  “Oh, yeah.” She raised and lowered them again, raised and lowered. “Oh, definitely, yes. Um!” Her eyes slid closed as the sensation suddenly hitting just the right spot sent a preorgasm zing through her. “Oh, God, Finn, I’m going to—I’m so close. So, so, so, so—”

  He slid his thumb over her clit and, on the apex of her next rise, licked her nipple into his mouth and gave it a hard suck. Sharp, undulating contractions detonated around the steely sex seated hard up inside her, pulling at it and trying to coax a climax out of him in return. “Oh, God, Finn,” she panted. “Oh. My. Gaw-w-wd.”

  He shifted slightly and her breath caught in her throat as the small movement started an entire new cavalcade of contractions.

  * * *

  “CHRIST,” FINN MUTTERED, staring up at her flushed cheeks, at her white teeth sank into her reddened lower lip and her slumberous blue eyes as she stared blindly at him while she clamped like a velvet vise all around him. His testicles drew up, making him lose track of everything but his own drive for release. He fell back on his elbows and thrust his hips upward to shove deep inside of her.

  The move lifted her off her knees and she slapped her hands to his chest to keep from being bucked off. He barely noticed as he held his position high and hard inside her. Then, groaning low in his throat, he exploded in pulsation after hot, mind-bending pulsation, with the feel of tight, slippery tissues still clasping and unclasping up and down his dick. “Ah, God, Magdalene!”

  For once she didn’t correct him. The clutching around his cock ultimately slowed, then faded away and she sat atop him, blinking heavy-lidded eyes as she stared down without speaking. And a tiny smile curved her lips.

  “I hate to break it to you,” she finally said. “But you didn’t make me scream.”

  Then she collapsed atop him hard enough to drive the breath from his lungs.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  IT TOOK MAGS a while to catch her breath. She sprawled bonelessly atop Finn while his callused fingers moved lightly up and down her back, tracing her vertebrae, outlining her shoulder blades and gently circling within the shallow dimples above the rise of her butt. His fingertips against those particularly smooth-skinned spots felt scratchy and very male. She didn’t know quite what to say, because this felt...different from any sex she’d ever had.

  It wasn’t, of course. She might feel a bit more emotionally fulfilled than she had with other men, but in the end nothing had truly changed. She certainly couldn’t afford to let Finn get too close. It was simply too mother-lovin’ difficult when things fell apart as, face it, they invariably did.

  And truly, it was hardly surprising she’d experienced more emotions with him. Since the day they’d both arrived in El Tigre, they’d been thrown together in one outrageous circumstance after another. Yet the bottom line remained the same: Finn was a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy and the last thing they needed was for her to go all hearts-and-flowers schoolgirlie on him. Especially when what she actually felt was undoubtedly more gratitude than anything else.

  Because she was grateful. For what had been one of the best orgasms of her life, no question. But more than that, for the way he’d taken on the troubles of a woman he’d never even laid eyes on before a few days ago. He’d thrown himself between her and the dangerous situation she’d found herself in without blinking an eye or counting the cost to himself.

  So, making sure to plaster on the same free-and-easy smile she’d used to great effect with other men, she raised her head and let her hands slide from his shoulders to the mat on either side of his neck so she could lever herself upright. The move pressed her pelvis to his and arched her back into a cobra pose. It also squeezed him right out of her. Instinctually, she clenched deep inside in an attempt to keep him inside. But it was too late.

  She ramped up her ain’t-we-got-fun smile.

  “Dammit, Mags,” he snapped, “don’t do that!”

  “Don’t do what?” Okay, so playing dumb was never particularly attractive. Still, sometimes when she felt cornered, faking ignorance was the only way to go.

  “Don’t give me that big life-of-the-party smile when your eyes are saying ‘Get me the hell out of here.’”

  “Oh, what bull. They aren’t saying anything of the kind.” Were they?

  “The hell they’re not. And I’m not just blowing smoke out my ass, here. I’ve met women like you before.”

  “Have you?” Probably way too much frost coated her tone, but please—women like her? “And what, pray tell, are woman like me like?”

  He looked her dead in the eye. “As I said, at first glance you give off this vibe of being, hands down, the coolest, most fun woman in the room. But the reality is, you’re one big ball of emotional dodge ’em.”

  “Wow. Thank you, Dr. Phil,” she said even as an inner voice murmured, Okay, pretty much. But if so, he said that as if it were a bad thing, rather than intelligently well thought out and self-protective. Feeling rattled and defensive, she lifted herself off of him to sit on the sleeping bag. Suddenly uncomfortable with her nudi
ty, she reached for her underwear. As she pulled on her panties, she gave him an insolent up-and-down before adding flatly, “I’m surprised you could bring yourself to have sex with me, me being so screwed up and all.” She slid her arms into the straps of her bra and reached behind her to fasten it.

  He rolled to face her, propping his head in his hand. Clearly he wasn’t the least bit self-conscious about being naked and he met her gaze levelly. “Maybe I hoped I’d be the exception to your don’t-let-’em-too-close rule.”

  “Please,” she scoffed. “This from the man ho who’s had a bazillion lovers?”

  Genuine amusement lit his dark eyes. “Trying to put me on the defensive, darlin’? I give you points for the good ol’ college try, but it’s not gonna work. My man-ho days may well be behind me. I came on this trip in large part because I’ve been wondering lately if maybe it’s time to change my ways—to think about settling down. But to do that I knew I needed to be away from my family so I could honestly say no matter what I end up deciding that it wasn’t due to any pressure from them.”

  “Sure, blame it on the caring family.”

  His dark eyebrows slammed together and for the first time he looked annoyed. “I’m not blaming jack, I’m giving you the facts. And the facts are, I know what I read in your eyes and that was ‘Get me the hell out of here.’”

  “Well, guess what, Kavanagh? You can’t read eyes for shit, because they were saying ‘That was really nice.’” With maybe a pinch of And now that it’s over, get me the hell out of here.

  “Nice? Seriously?” He sat up, his expression downright offended. “You thought it was nice? Then let’s try this again, Deluca, because I can sure as hell do better than fucking nice. I admit this round was short on foreplay.”

  She’d thought it was just right, but panic at the idea of making lo—having sex again and being left feeling even more emotional made her heart drum out a rhythm like Thumper’s twitterpated hind foot. Somehow, however, she managed to arrange her expression into something she hoped at least appeared cool and collected. “Oh, let’s, do. Because being told I’m emotionally stunted really puts me in the mood.”