by Susan Arden
She pressed her thighs against his hand, willing this feeling of being overpowered to lessen. He pumped and curled his finger roughly between her legs, and with his other arm pulled her up against him as she softly moaned.
“Brandon, I’m ramped all the way up.”
He crushed his mouth down onto hers and she clung to him, with her heart racing and the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She didn’t care that they were outside in broad daylight as she whispered against his lips, “I need you.”
“God, you’re ready to come. I want you hot and ready. You’ll wait until it’s time.” He pulled his hand from her and sucked her slickness from his fingers.
“Please! You can’t leave me in this state.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, or, you can root around deeper inside that box and you’ll find a whip as well. That’s my specialty.” He backed her up, until the tailgate pressed into her hip and his body was a wall in front of her. “Care to feel that as well?”
She shook her head, only because it was the logical response, but lust spiked in her bloodstream. She licked her lips, envisioning him shirtless, muscles flexing, and the crack of the whip stinging her cheeks. “Maybe,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said as his gaze lowered to see her nipples pressed into her sweater. “We’ll have to do something about your state.”
“Soon, Brandon.” The bulge in his pants made her moan and she added. “Sir, please.”
Without another word he picked up the duffle bag and took her by the arm. “Come on.”
If she didn’t get ahold of her rollercoaster emotions she’d be a sight, begging and pleading for him to fuck her every which way, and ending up having her ass whipped. Why did it all sound so inviting? She sulked, irritated that he knew just what to say and do to make her crazy-hot.
Brandon steered her up the stairs and onto the porch. He held the door into the house open for her. “Watch your step,” he warned.
They stood at the entry and walked across a wide landing, and if he hadn’t given her a heads-up, she would have rushed forward and stumbled down the steps into the sunken living room.
“It’s very lovely,” she said in a shaky voice. After having her libido torched, nerves all over her body were ready to burst.
The house had multiple levels visible from the landing. One part of the upstairs was an open loft, but it was the lower level radiating with rustic charm that drew her into the house. The welcoming scent of lemon oil and sage infused the air along with the smoky tang of a fire burning.
Walking down the steps, she passed by one of the timber roof supports and rubbed her fingers over the gnarled trunk of the log. She paused, gazing into the spacious great room with wooden floors and bright area rugs. She moved over to the large leather sectional, which took up the center of the room, complete with colorful throws and pillows.
Brandon came up beside her. “The view is pretty good this time of day.”
She followed his focus and choked. “Good? It’s unreal.”
The room overlooked a wide back deck and an unobstructed view of the lakeshore. She watched the sunlight glinting off the water then shifted her gaze toward the long dock with the moored boat that lay in wait.
“It gets better in the hot tub at night,” he said with a hungry, decadent, and very male stare.
The sight of Brandon with the duffle bag thrown over his muscular shoulder and his openly displayed lust sank deep into her belly.
She blew out a breath of air. “Here’s a word: wow!”
“Just what I was thinking about you.” He chuckled and bumped his shoulder with hers.
“Must be something during the summer.” She glanced up and found Brandon studying the lake with a faraway look in his eyes. Of course, he’d have about a million memories from growing up here.
Rather than disrupt his moment, she scanned the area around her. It was impossible to take in the enormous size of the room and the vista beyond, and each time she turned something interesting vied for her attention. Yet she realized, her eyes kept returning to Brandon, and her chest constricted.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder.
“This place just goes on and on.” She headed toward the tall mantle with an array of family photographs. “Is the fireplace original?” she asked.
“Sure is. Those rocks are from around here, as the story goes. So is the timber. These log supports and those.” He pointed to the massive beams above their heads.
“So much history, and it’s yours.” She scanned the photographs and found one taken of him as teenager with some other boys roughhousing. Oh yeah, if she wasn’t certain he had been a wild child, she was assured now. She smiled and caught her attention on the ornate chandelier made from antlers. “And those?”
“From a great-grandfather and great-uncles.”
“Do you hunt anything besides deer?” She followed him down a hall, then up a flight of narrow steps into what looked like a den complete with a large table with a poker kit, pool table and well-stocked wet bar. On the walls were mounted game heads—large bucks mostly—and she stared, slack-jawed.
“I don’t. But some of the family does fowl, if they have hunting dogs. Wild turkeys to quail.” He pointed to the walls. “Those have been here for years. Past generations, long gone.”
“I understand,” she said softly.
“Tonight, I have my sights on one target.” He guided her out of the room as they walked toward the opposite side of the cottage now. They turned down a short hall where he pushed open a door with his shoulder and waited in the hall for her to enter. As she walked by him, he murmured, “We’ll have as much privacy as we need on this side of the place. My cousins stay on the other end.”
“How come?” she asked, entering the room and coming up to a canopy-topped bed and rocking chair. A small crib was off to the side. On the floor was a large cowhide and the ceiling was open-beamed, like downstairs. The walls were made of pine, and two windows were covered with matching muted green curtains. A couple of books were on the nightstand.
He followed behind her, his hand on her waist. “This is considered to be the marital wing, and they’ve no need for fancy bed posts. Or bassinets.” His duffle dropped to the floor with a thud and he came up behind her. “I need to get you ready. I’m not going to fuck you. If I start, no way could I stop.”
The heat from his body radiated scorching lust across her senses. Without even physically touching her, she felt the magnetism from his presence and aching need pooled between her legs. She blinked her eyes, inhaling to clear her head. “What are you going to do?”
Brandon wrapped his hands over her hips and pushed her forward, to the edge of the mattress. “Drop your drawers and bend over.”
She placed the box on the bed, then turned and began to do as he ordered. Her fingers shook with anticipation as she removed her boots. Brandon opened the box and extracted a strange-looking rubber device and a bottle of lubricant.
“What’s that?” Her voice flared.
“A plug. It’ll help stretch you. Your ass is tight and if I try to fuck it…plain and simple, it’d hurt. You’ll wear the plug and think of me fucking you. Nice and slow. Promise, this is going to make your experience a whole lot better.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Sugar, I’m a man and you know a little of my history. Let’s not go there. My experience will keep you safe. That’s all that matters. Now, stop stallin’. I want to see that pretty ass of your bared to me.”
She tugged off her jeans, and he put his hand on her shoulders, pressing her forward. He stripped her panties from her hips, lowering them down her thighs to her ankles. “Step,” he said, pulling them off her foot. “Don’t move. Or I can always give you a sample of what I mean by keeping still.”
She heard him squeeze the bottle of lube and she closed her eyes. He tapped her foot with his boot to widen her stance. His fingers traced the edge of one chee
k. “Your fingers are cold,” she whispered and shivered.
“Sorry,” he said in a husky voice. “Relax. You’re tensing. When I tell you to take a breath, do it.”
She swallowed, her pussy clenching as he swiped down the seam of her ass. He pressed his finger against her anus, massaging and teasing her to open for him. Brandon used the friction of his hard body, rubbing over her while biting and sucking on her neck. She rolled her hips to the sound of his hoarse groans, tipping her hips further and further upward to him.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “So beautiful. I’m going to come in my jeans just touching you. Let’s try the tip of my finger.”
He pushed into her anus and she arched against the stinging. “Babe, please,” she hissed.
“Take a breath.” He placed his hand firmly on her shoulder, his legs straddling over her thighs, and when he pressed her back to the bed he reminded her to breathe again. “Come on, sugar, for me. Take a full breath.”
She sucked in a gulp of air, and right after he pushed his finger into her. The world stopped spinning. The pain burned red-hot. The muscles along her stomach and ass cheeks clenched.
“Ow,” she groaned.
“Breathe through the pain. Mia. Do it.” His insistent voice broke through the haze of pain and under his gentle coaxing, slowly and with several breaths, the quivers stopped firing in her lower half. He pushed his finger fully inside her. Warm and slippery, and the pain receded. He pumped into her faster, then lowered his other hand and slipped his finger inside her pussy. “You’re drenched. God damn, you’d feel perfect around my cock right now.”
His breath caressed the back of her neck. Puffs of air, short and rapid, matched the rhythm of his fingers thrusting into her body. Pleas reverberated in her body, coiling deep in her belly with a fiery sizzle.
She clawed the comforter. “Please. I’m going to come.”
“No. Don’t. I want you ready to burst by the time we return later tonight.” He stopped finger-fucking her. She heard the bottle squeeze again and then he spread her cheeks. “Take a breath. Time for the plug.”
She inhaled, twisting the comforter in her hands, as he gripped her hip and held her in place. At first she felt the silky slide of his finger down her ass cheek, then he pushed tip of the plug into her ass.
“Oh…God!” She pressed her forehead into the bed.
A slice of pain cut through her thoughts, but the feel of Brandon’s finger sliding into her pussy stole her breath. She hiked up her hips, gyrating to the rhythm of him entering her. He pushed her farther up on the bed, his hand sliding from between her thighs, and she glanced backward. His eyes were closed and he had his cock in his hand, his shoulders bunched, and he quickly stroked his hand back and forth on his dick.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Not. Yet.” He panted, his breathing strained, and she watched as he tucked his hard-on back inside his jeans. “Face the mattress.”
She turned away and he came to her, lowered his body to hers and spread her cheeks. The hard bulge in his jeans pressed into her right behind the plug. He curled his hands over her shoulders and pumped his hips against her, giving her an erotic preview of what he’d do to her, without actually breaching her.
“This is how I want you.” He lowered his chest flush to her back, and he buried his face at the curve of her neck. He kissed along every inch of her neck, sucking her skin, and reached around her hips. He separated her pussy lips, grazing his fingers across her swollen clit. All at once he pinched her sex and bit down on her neck, and she squeezed her pussy, tight and hard. “This is what I want to feel. You milking my cock. Such a head rush.”
He released her and she felt like her body was made of lead. On edge, unfulfilled, and hungry. God, she’d never been this ravenous before. Pushing up on her elbows, she tensed as Brandon lifted off her. When he bent down and bit her ass cheek, she snarled, “I’m so out of my mind for you. How can you leave me in this condition?”
“Nothing like teasing the appetite.” His laughter came out dark and low, and made her nipples tighten. “We’re both ready to explode. I promise, I’ll fuck you like you’ve never imagined. By tomorrow morning, we’re both going to have the doors blown off our imaginations.”
Chapter Twenty
Mia’S bubbling laughter filled his mind, making him hungry to clear the table with the back of his hand, and tell his cousins to go take a hike. Literally. Seated at the table, the steak was grilled exactly as he preferred, but tasted like cardboard in his mouth.
“You not hungry?” Rod asked, pointing his knife at Brandon’s plate.
“I’m taking my time.” He cut another piece of steak and lifted his fork, meeting Rod’s gaze.
Rod raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Is that so?”
Cade and Rod were finished with their dinners. After a baked potato, salad, bread, and a ten-ounce sirloin steak, and still those two looked like they could eat an entire second plate if served.
“I made brownies,” Mia offered. “The pantry was full of choices, so I just picked something. Hope it’s what you like.”
“Girl, if you made franks and beans right out of the can, any man would scarf it down and be happy.” Cade lifted out of his chair and smiled.
Brandon ground his molars, but held back from laying into his cousin. Cade was just flirting and he could deal with that…he’d better be able to, or his cousins would have him by the short hairs. That’s how this went down in his family. A little harmless flirting was really testing the waters to see how much ribbing a guy could take, and then they’d deliver. If he showed any weakness, Cade and Rod would be insufferable. And he fully intended to take Mia to the wedding next week.
He planned on asking her as soon as dinner was over and these two chuckleheads were out of earshot. “How about a game of cards?” Rod called out from the kitchen.
“You thinking Go Fish or Old Maid?” Brandon retorted.
“Go Fuck Yourself!” Rod howled. He carried in the tray of brownies and a bag of weed. “The secret ingredient. Had we known you were making a batch we’d have left you some.”
Brandon shot Mia a look, wondering if she’d have a problem with these dudes smoking. She must have felt him staring a hole in her and turned to him. The way the light caught the curve of her cheek, her dimples, her smile—the whole effect drilled into him, deeper still with the heat coming from her eyes. As she leaned toward him, his chest tightened and he gripped the armrest of his chair. The wood didn’t flex beneath his fingers, but his world shifted. God bless. I’m done in by her dark eyes.
“You a toker?” she whispered, stroking his arm lightly with her fingernails.
“Depends. Are you?” He canted closer to her, inhaling the floral scent of her hair.
“Babe, let’s get wild tonight. You and me. Anything goes, Sir.” She brushed her lips along his jaw and his nipples hardened as goose bumps erupted at her words.
So many ideas came to mind. Damn, he wished they had the place to themselves. He wanted her, and each beat of his heart reminded him he was treading on dangerous ground. To lose his head might mean giving away his heart as well.
“Hey. No whispering,” Cade said. “You guys in or out?”
“In,” he responded. “All the way.”
“Sounds deep.” Rod laughed, flicking a lighter and puffing on the joint he held between his fingers. The flame leapt and he pulled in a long drag, making the end burn red and sizzle as the paper scorched.
Cade shuffled the cards and nodded to Rod. “This stuff is smooth. Better than bourbon.” The zipping sound of the cards falling on the table threaded into Brandon’s awareness. “Five card all right?”
“’Course,” he said tightly, his gaze trained on Mia. He gritted his teeth, wanting to run his fingers through her hair, and sample her mouth after she sipped her wine.
Cade dealt the cards, winging a rapid-fire hand to him, and he remembered to pick his cards up and focus on what he held in his hand. Hard to
do. Fucking out of the question with the soft sounds of Mia’s presence, taking up all the available space in his mind. He gripped the cards, arranging his hand, and focused on the music in the background. Not every breath Mia took. Or the way her thigh pressed against his. Or the laughter that fell from her mouth as she picked up her last card.
He had to gain control. “About time,” he muttered, when Rod passed him the joint.
“Anyone want something from the bar?” Cade rose, releasing a puff of smoke from his lips.
“Grab me a beer while I hit the head,” Rod replied.
“You want something harder than wine?” Brandon asked.
“I’d better take the Fifth on that one,” she replied, trailing her fingers across his leg.
He curled the edges of his mouth as he lifted the joint to his lips and inhaled. The acrid smoke burned his lungs, swirling upward around his face, and just as fast, a relaxed haze saturated his senses.
He held the joint out to Mia, then stopped. “Let me do something.”
“Sure,” she whispered.
He inhaled a deep drag of smoke, set the joint down then spread his fingers on the side of her face. He pressed his lips to hers and slowly let the smoke seep into her berry-stained mouth. The combination of blackberry wine on her breath, the sweet taste of her tongue, and getting high, tormented him in the most exquisite of ways as he sat there unable to undress Mia except with his eyes.
“Intoxicating,” he murmured, lifting his mouth from hers.
“In a word,” she answered, stroking her hands over his, still feathered along her jaw, the smoke spilling from her mouth.
“You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” He leaned over and kissed her, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, and sucking her tongue deep into his mouth. Skimming his fingers down her neck, he wanted to tell her that he was coming apart—more than that, what she meant to him. “Mia,” he whispered against her mouth.
