Surrender To Sultry

by Macy Beckett

  “More,” she cried, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure washing over her.

  He gave her what she needed, stroked her harder while thrusting a finger deep inside, where she shuddered around him in fierce spasms. Her lips parted in a muted scream, head tipped back as she gripped the counter ledge and rode his hand with a wild fury she didn’t know she possessed. Wave after wave crested before the last one left her sated, and her body finally went limp.

  The tremors had barely ceased when Colt pulled her to sitting, grabbed her by the thighs, and carried her to the table. “We can do a lot better than that, honey.”

  Leah shook her head, still drugged and gasping for air. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  He swept a pile of mail to the floor and laid her down on the cool oak, then peeled off her yoga pants. “Watch me do the impossible.” He spread her legs and fit himself to her, gliding the steel ridge of his erection in slow circles over her aroused flesh.

  “Oh, god,” she swore. “Maybe we can.” She planted both heels on the table and rose to meet him, greedy for more. She hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties and tried tugging them down. “I want you inside me. Hurry.”

  He groaned in approval but quickly stilled her hands. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re not ready.”

  “Yes, I am.” And she showed him with a decadent arch of her hips. “Touch me again and see.”

  “Shit, baby.” He pinned her wrists to the table and lowered onto her body, resting his forehead on her chest in an obvious struggle for control. But for what, she didn’t know. She’d just offered herself to him. He didn’t have to wait another second. “You’re not makin’ this easy for me,” he whispered.

  It didn’t get any easier than this. She wrapped one leg around him and said, “I want you, Colt. I’m ready.”

  After releasing her wrists, he propped himself on one elbow and gazed down at her beneath lids heavy with lust. “You’re ready here,” he said, using the heel of his hand to massage the dampened fabric of her panties. Just as she’d closed her eyes and started to writhe against his palm, he withdrew and rested it above her heart. “But not here.”

  “I am,” she insisted. “I promise.”

  “No, Angel.” He cupped her cheek. “I got you all worked up, but when it’s over and you come back down, you’ll be sorry it happened. Just like last time.” Something in his eyes shifted, sadness mingled with desire, and she felt a tug at her belly. “I don’t think I could take it if you regretted making love with me again.”

  Leah didn’t know what to say—he’d stunned her into silence.

  He skimmed his hand down her face, along the outside curve of her breast, over her waist and hips to her cotton bikinis, where he pulled them back up. “We can fool around all you want, but these have to stay on until the time’s right.” His gaze moved over her features as if worried for her reaction. “Until you’re sure. Okay?”

  She only nodded, unable to speak over the thickness in her throat.

  This wasn’t the Colt she remembered—the arrogant boy who’d seduced her in that hot and dusty shed ten years ago. This Colt was all man—and a good man, at that.

  She stroked the smooth edge of his jaw and pulled him in for a soft kiss, a tender brush of lips to show how much his actions warmed her heart. In response, he opened to her, using his tongue to trace her lower lip in an invitation that she took. She delved inside where the flavor of éclairs lingered on his mouth. She’d come to associate his kisses with the taste of vanilla cream and chocolate icing. And much like those pastries, one nibble wasn’t enough.

  She pulled him harder against her, making love to his mouth if not his body, absorbing all the sweetness he had to offer. And he offered nearly everything he had, sliding his tongue between her parted lips as he crushed her beneath his weight and ground his hips against her in a slow, delicious rhythm.

  He broke the kiss to take her earlobe between his teeth, rolling to the side just enough to slip his fingers once again beneath the cotton of her briefs. Using his thumb, he traced her stiff bud while probing deep with his index finger. She spread wider for him and arched her back, willing him to go further, and then he twisted that finger to face the ceiling and massaged an erotic zone she didn’t know she had. Her toes curled in response while an animalistic noise rose from the back of her throat.

  With his mouth still at her ear, he whispered, “Can the doctor make you moan like that?”

  Her lips parted, but she couldn’t breathe over the dizzying sensations. She brought both knees to her chest in a silent plea for more, and he rewarded her by adding a second finger and pumping in and out of her throbbing center in a slow, sensual dance. He sank deeper with each stroke, filling and stretching her while she rocked her hips for more.

  “Can he do this to you?” he asked. “Can he make you so wet you drip into his hand? Listen to this.” He angled his pistoning fingers to amplify the sound of her arousal. “I can hear how much you want me. Did you ever want him like this?”

  She thrashed her head from side to side. “No. Never.” She knew she was at his mercy, and she didn’t care. Flat on her back, wide open on her daddy’s kitchen table, begging for Colt’s sinful touch, and she didn’t care. “You’re the only one.”

  “Remember that.” He kissed a trail to her shoulder and bit down, still moving inside her. “Tell me you’ll remember.”

  She answered with a moan, and he withdrew his fingers.

  “I’ll remember!” she shouted, eyes flying wide, desperate for him to keep going.

  He chuckled darkly and moved to the end of the table, taking a seat on the chair between her legs. Then he grabbed her by the thighs and pulled her to the wooden ledge, propping her heels on his shoulders. “I know you will. I’m about to make sure of it.”

  With one hand, he hooked the cotton fabric aside, then bent to his work and used his tongue on her, circling and teasing in whisper-light licks that only served to heighten the dull ache spreading low in her belly. She grasped the table’s edge with both hands and let her knees fall out to the sides while he resumed pumping inside her with his fingers. Her moans grew urgent and half-hysterical. She couldn’t survive much more of his scintillating torture.

  “Colt,” she murmured, “please.”

  He groaned, vibrating against her before drawing her into his mouth with a strong pull of suction that had her sobbing with pleasure. He worked her relentlessly, took her higher than she’d ever thought her body could go, then catapulted her into the sun. The erotic pressure continued to build inside her until she thought she’d die from it, and then he twisted his fingers again and found that magical spot, and her whole world blew apart.

  Her inner walls tightened like a vise around his fingers and released, tightened and released, in a quaking orgasm so powerful she almost couldn’t bear the ecstasy. Her cries filled the kitchen and reverberated off the walls, sounding distorted to her own ears. She’d never felt anything this strong. On and on it went, until her leg muscles went slack and her heels slipped from Colt’s shoulders. He stayed with her until the end, when the shudders finally stopped and her cries quieted.

  She lay on the table, heart pounding so hard she felt it in her toes. While she fought for breath, Colt withdrew his fingers and left her with one last, gentle kiss between her thighs. As soon as she could draw oxygen and form a coherent sentence, she told him, “I’ll remember.”

  He laughed at that and pulled her into his lap, where she straddled his thighs and linked her arms behind his neck. There, he fed her sweet, lazy kisses and danced his fingertips along her spine. A few minutes later, she became aware of the erection still straining the front of his Levi’s. Every bit the man, he’d seen to her needs and ignored his own. But she intended to rectify that—to give him something to remember—starting
right now.

  ***

  Colt was in heaven.

  He’d just made Leah come like a freight train—the hardest orgasm of her life, he was sure of it—and now he held her pliant body in his arms, stroking her silken skin and savoring the steady thump of her heart beating against his chest. How many nights had he wished for this? God only knew. He could hardly believe it was really happening, but her salty flavor lingered as evidence on his tongue. The air was still thick with the tantalizing scent of her arousal. He pulled back to glance at her, so beautiful with her mussed hair and her flushed cheeks, drunk on the satisfaction he’d given her. In that moment, she was all his.

  It didn’t get any better than this.

  She reached down to stroke him through his jeans, then worked the button on his fly and whispered in his ear, “Your turn.”

  Okay, maybe it could get a little better than this.

  After she’d lowered his zipper, she stood from his lap long enough to help him push his pants and boxer-briefs to his knees. He was hard enough to split stone, but when she curled her soft palm around him and stroked his length, he grew incredibly harder. He bit his lip to contain a curse and tipped his head to rest on the seatback, then closed his eyes, focusing on the gentle friction of their joined skin, occasionally thrusting up to meet her hand. Suddenly, her weight lifted from his lap, and he opened his eyes to find her kneeling at his boots, a sight he didn’t like one bit.

  “What’re you doing?” he asked in a voice that made his feelings clear. He didn’t want Leah on her knees. It was degrading. Over the years, he’d let dozens of women service him that way. They’d dropped to the floor and sucked him off in closets and bathrooms, dressing rooms and backyards. It was a way to get his jollies without giving anything in return. He couldn’t do that to Leah. She was his angel—she was above it.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Grasping his base, she licked the underside of his rounded tip like a kid with a snow cone.

  His eyes rolled back and his cock twitched, despite his best efforts to ignore the repeated laps of her tongue. “Get back up here.”

  “Why?” Her baby blues widened in a way that made his heart heavy. “Am I doing it wrong?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Then why do you want me to stop?”

  “Honey, you’re doin’ everything right. I just don’t like you down there on your knees.”

  She licked him, long and slow up the center, then grinned. “Did you have another position in mind?”

  First the panties and now this. She was making it awfully hard for him to do the right thing. Hard in more ways than one.

  Before he could protest any further, she began stroking him while massaging the skin behind his balls, and pure pleasure wiped his mind clean, making it impossible to think about anything but the cocktail of sensations between his legs. He closed his eyes again and leaned back in his chair, helpless to stop her. He’d done all he could. The head on his shoulders wasn’t the one making the decisions anymore.

  She took him into her mouth one slow inch at a time, pulled back, and then slid her lips further down his slippery shaft. When she couldn’t take him any deeper, she used one hand to stroke his base, twisting her grip while clamping her lips tighter around him and quickening the pace. A whimper escaped his chest while the pit of his belly coiled, the tension mounting until he knew he’d go in seconds. And to think she’d worried she was doing it wrong. She worked him like a pro.

  He couldn’t help pumping his hips to meet her, whispering her name and pleading Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop. When his body tensed for release, she gripped him impossibly harder, took him impossibly deeper, and grabbed his backside with her other hand, digging her nails into his flesh. He didn’t want to come in her mouth, but he couldn’t control the hot surge about to erupt. She was too good. With a final thrust, he muffled a cry and let go, legs kicking out with rapture as she swallowed everything he gave her in wave after wave of his climax. It seemed to go on forever, but she didn’t relent. She held on until he quit pulsing, then released him with a gentle suction that made him groan.

  “God damn,” he panted in awe, glancing down at her. “I don’t wanna know how you learned to do that.”

  The way she smiled up at him—all coy and naked, her lips swollen from mouthing his erection—was anything but angelic. She licked the corner of her mouth and told him, “I could say the same thing about you.”

  “Come here.” He held out his arms to her, not bothering to pull up his drawers. Soon she’d have to pick up her daddy, and he wanted to spend every spare minute holding her. She settled in his lap and laced her fingers behind his back, resting her cheek on his shoulder while he stroked her hair. Seriously, it didn’t get any better than this.

  After a few minutes of blissful silence, she trailed one index finger down the side of his neck and whispered, “That was amazing, but you know we can’t do it again, right?”

  Colt’s heart pinched and he fought to keep the hurt from showing on his face. He’d expected her to pull away, but not so soon. Thank goodness he hadn’t caved in and made love to her. She’d be halfway to Minnesota by now.

  He faked his most unaffected shrug and said, “Whatever you want, honey,” then added with a wink, “but you’ll never be able to eat at this table without getting hot and bothered.”

  She dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Lucky for me, Daddy likes to eat in front of the TV.”

  The moment ended far too quickly. She stood and retrieved her discarded clothes, then went to her room to fetch a clean shirt while he fastened his pants. When they cleaned up the kitchen, she tossed both éclairs into the garbage without taking a single bite, which bothered him more than it should have. She loved those things—always had—so why did she avoid them now? He wanted to see her indulge, to gobble one like a child. That’s why he’d bought them. Maybe next time she’d let go of whatever was holding her back.

  And there would be a next time. He’d have to be patient and wait for Leah to come to him, but she’d come. She was his—she just didn’t know it yet.

  Chapter 11

  Dry gravel crunched beneath Colt’s Laredos as he left his cruiser and picked his way across the trail leading to the springs. His movements disturbed the placid night air and sent a handful of critters scurrying into the tangled underbrush that sprouted along the water’s edge. Colt smiled and unbuckled his utility belt. The presence of critters was a good sign—it meant he had the place to himself again.

  He hadn’t crossed paths with anything on two legs since his first visit a few nights ago, when he’d surprised a group of teenagers. Once they’d caught a glimpse of the gold star on his Stetson, they’d grabbed their six-packs and hightailed it the hell out of there. Word must’ve gotten out that the sheriff had taken to soaking in the springs after work, because they’d stayed away ever since. All the better. Now he could skinny dip without an audience.

  The sun hung low in the sky, throwing shadows over the jagged ground and casting the mineral pool in a mystic greenish-blue glow. Surrounded on three sides by a red stony ridge, the space boasted more privacy than half the backyard pools in town. He enjoyed it out here, especially since the fall air had turned crisp, and he wondered why he hadn’t come out more often in previous years. Probably because it was too peaceful—no blaring juke boxes or giggling women to drown out his thoughts.

  He continued past the shallows to his favorite spot in the back, where time had eroded a natural bench of limestone beneath the water’s surface. Once there, he stripped down and slung his clothes over a small boulder, then set his utility belt within reach of the pool, just in case he needed to draw his weapon. The odds were slim, but why risk getting caught with his pants down?

  He sat on the gravel ledge and dangled his legs in the water to acclimate his skin to the hot change in temperature, then low
ered to his chest and settled on the stone seat below. The air stank of sulfur, but it was worth it when the muscles along his lower back unclenched and his body melted into the earth behind him. He groaned in relief. This was a perfect way to spend the evening.

  Almost.

  There was room for one more body on the stone seat beside him, and he’d felt her absence each night like a rib stolen from his chest. He hadn’t expected Leah to join him right away, but after their sizzling oral escapades last week, waiting for her to come to him was proving more than he could bear. He wanted her again—all of her this time. But she’d made it damn near impossible to get close to her again.

  When he’d arrived at her house the last couple of mornings to tend the lawn, he’d found her gone, tagging along with her daddy to his hospital appointments. It was her not-so-subtle way of avoiding him. Aside from the Sunday service, he’d run out of excuses to be near her, and as much as Colt wanted to trust his instincts and play it cool, it wasn’t easy. Still, he had to be careful. He never thought he’d get a second chance with Leah, and he wasn’t about to blow it by pushing too hard. She’d seek him out—he had to trust that.

  In the meantime, he tried to focus on the stretches Leah had shown him. He brought one knee toward his chest until he felt a pull at the base of his spine, then held it to the count of sixty and repeated on the other side. In just four days, he’d limbered up enough to notice a small difference. He couldn’t quite touch his knees to his upper torso yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer. He’d even scheduled a couple massages at the chiropractor’s office. He didn’t exactly enjoy getting rubbed down by a big, hairy dude, but he couldn’t deny it had helped. And even though he didn’t buy into that back-cracking shit, he decided to give it a try as soon as his muscles loosened up. What the hell, it was worth a shot, right?