Promises Prevail

by Sarah McCarty

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were married and I have no right to begrudge you that.”

  She took a little shuddering breath. “I’m just trying to do what you want.”

  He took a handful of her hair and tipped her head back. “How about you just relax and let me fill you in on my preferences?” She blinked, but didn’t argue. He couldn’t read what was going on behind her eyes. Damn, her father and first husband had about crushed the life out of her. “That was an apology, Sunshine.”

  “Oh.”

  Her breasts pressed into his stomach. Her breath seared him through his shirt. How could she ever doubt that she pleased him? He stepped back from her, immediately missing her soft breasts and hot breath. “Come here.”

  He didn’t give her much choice but to follow. With his hand on the nape of her neck she was forced to tag along, a wary shadow. When he got to the bed, her eyes widened. The pulse in her throat picked up speed. He laid money it was nerves and not desire that set her heart to pounding.

  He turned her and gave her a little push. She sat on the bed. He noticed she didn’t bend her right knee.

  “Is your leg bothering you?” He ran his hand over her thigh. There wasn’t any tension in the muscle.

  “No.”

  Desire replaced worry. He had her in his home, in his bed, and her thigh under his hand. There was only one thing that could make tonight better. “Would you like some cake?”

  “Cake?”

  “Yes.” That decadently rich chocolate cake his wife had baked him. As a present. For her husband. It put the earrings he had purchased for her to shame.

  “Uhm…no.”

  “Mind if I have some?” He wanted it all, his wife and her gift.

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, that was relief in her voice. Why she would be shy now when she wasn’t in the barn eluded him, but she clearly was. He brushed his fingers over the remnants of heat in her cheek. “Smile for me, Sunshine.”

  She did, a tentative twitch of the lips, but it was enough to spark those dimples. He moved his finger over one. All the while she stared at him.

  She had the biggest eyes, the softest skin, and the most vulnerable personality. He’d have to be very careful to gentle his ways around her. She was wounded and needed protection. He could give her that.

  He just wouldn’t be able to leave her alone. She was a walking fantasy with all those full womanly curves and he wasn’t the type to rise above his baser moments. But he could give her a minute to collect herself and something to ease her through whatever was giving her a case of the jitters.

  It only took a minute to pour the wine into the glasses and grab his plate. She was still sitting where he’d left her, a temptress in a froth of white, staring at him with wide apprehensive eyes. She had, however, pulled the quilt up as high as she could to cover as much as possible without actually lying down.

  “Is that spirits?”

  “Nope. Just some wine.” He hoped she wasn’t going to be one of those teetotalers.

  “Ugh!” Her nose wrinkled.

  “You don’t like wine?”

  “My father made it every year from leftover apples.” She eyed the expensive bottle on the dresser as if it were poison.

  “I think you might find this more to your liking.” Clint had had a bit of that type of wine himself. He held out the glass.

  She took the glass. He sat beside her, his hip catching hers as she slid toward him with the dip of the mattress. This close, his view down her bodice was unimpeded. He took a bite of his cake, and she took a sip of her wine.

  “This is good.” She couldn’t have sounded more surprised.

  “Did you think I’d skimp on my wedding night?”

  She ducked his gaze. “I didn’t think…”

  He tipped the glass back up to her mouth with his finger before licking a smear of frosting off his thumb. “I wasn’t criticizing.”

  “Oh.”

  She took another sip, striving to look calm, but he could tell from the betraying flush on her cheeks, and the nervous looks she flashed him that she was flustered.

  He took another bite of cake, savoring the flavor as he savored the reality of his wife. She was such an outwardly unassuming little thing. So sweetly shy. So completely passive, and yet surprisingly bold when she needed to be.

  She shifted under his gaze and took a bigger sip. He kept staring at her, knowing it made her nervous, deliberately keeping her off balance so she’d fall back on sipping the wine to cover her nerves. He watched her drink, calmly eating his cake, savoring the buttery chocolate flavor as he watched the alcohol take effect. He’d figured it wouldn’t take much to relax her, and he was right. By the time the glass was empty she was leaning unselfconsciously against him, staring at the wall.

  “Jenna?”

  “What?”

  He ran his finger around the last of the icing on his plate. “You ready for your piece of cake yet?”

  “No.” She held her glass in both hands and bit her lip.

  “Then I think I’ll have it.”

  She handed him her empty glass as he stood. He glanced down, waiting for her to ask him for what she wanted. She didn’t, though she glanced at the bottle.

  “Would you like another glass of wine?” he asked.

  Her nod was shy. “Please.”

  He took the glass. His fingers grazed hers. “You know you can have whatever you want, Jenna. You don’t have to ask me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her acquiescence didn’t fool him. She was a long way from asking him for anything.

  He filled it half full and brought it back with his cake. She scooted over as he sat. He handed her the glass. She was careful her fingers didn’t touch his even as she fell against him with the dip of the mattress.

  She took a sip, smiled shyly. “This is decadent.”

  “Wine?”

  “Eating in bed.”

  She’d swallowed his cock down her throat in the barn, but she thought eating in bed was decadent? He added that to her list of contradictions. “I guess it is.”

  She smiled, revealing those dimples that intrigued him. “But it’s our wedding night.”

  “The perfect time to be decadent,” Clint agreed.

  He put his unfinished cake on the floor and settled his arm behind her on the bed. She tumbled into him without a murmur of protest. He tipped her glass to her lips. She obligingly took a sip. He gently removed it from her hands. Her “I wasn’t done” followed him down as he placed it on the floor. He straightened and then kept leaning back, taking her with him until they landed on the soft mattress, her head cushioned on his shoulder.

  “I want you relaxed, Sunshine, not unconscious.”

  “You tried to get me drunk?”

  “Relaxed,” he reiterated, turning to his side. The quilt slipped from Jenna as he tucked in his elbow. When he looked down, Jenna was staring at him, two faint lines between her brows.

  “Why do you call me little?”

  He smoothed a curl off her cheek and turned her a little more into his arms. “Because you are. You’re soft, small, and very appealing.”

  “I’m fat.” She said that as if confessing a sin.

  He slid his thigh over hers, making sure his knee took most of the weight on her other side. The sheets rustled as he propped himself over her.

  “Compared to me, Sunshine, you’re just a little bit. As for being fat…” He slid his fingers from her cheek, down over the gentle sweep of her throat, until he got to the sumptuous swell of her shoulder. The curve filled his palm perfectly. “Baby, you’re so deliciously rounded you make my back teeth ache with the need to start nibbling on you. I want to start at the tips of your toes and gradually, thoroughly, taste my way back up.”

  She looked down at herself than back at him, frowning. “Are you sure you don’t need spectacles?”


  The burst of laughter caught him by surprise.

  “I’m very sure.” With a nudge of his thumb, he turned her face to his. “Just looking at you makes me horny,” he whispered, leaning down.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” The last syllable bled into her mouth, drifting on his breath. She lay passive under him. “Kiss me back, Jenna.”

  She obediently pursed her lips under his. If he didn’t know she’d been married, he would have sworn she didn’t know how to kiss.

  He tickled her lips with his tongue, working past her inhibitions, stroking their plump fullness with the tip, tickling the corners until she gasped and then repeating the procedure on the other one for the simple reason that he liked the way she lifted against him. He gently eased his tongue into the enfolding heat of her mouth. At first she froze, staring at him with those big blue eyes, not understanding, but even as he moved his tongue on hers, he could see her brain working, assimilating. Then her tongue was stroking his, her hands coming tentatively up to grip his shoulders.

  He did enjoy an intelligent woman.

  He adjusted the angle of the kiss, giving them both better access. He pulled her hips a little tighter to his, groaning into her mouth as her thigh cushioned the aching length of his cock. Damn, he wanted to wallow in her, her softness, her gentleness, her sweet giving nature—wanted to pull it into himself and use it to fill the blank void where his emotions used to be. He kissed her lips, rubbing his nose against hers.

  “Ah Sunshine, you make me hunger.”

  “I do?”

  “Can’t you feel how much?” He was really going to have to work on her confidence.

  Her “Yes” was whispered. No doubt she was shy, because he kept his eyes open and his lips on hers, too close for a lie to slip past.

  “That didn’t sound too convincing.” The mattress creaked as he straddled her. Bracing his weight on his forearms, he notched his cock into the V of her thighs, still keeping his lips to hers, catching her gasp as she absorbed his intent. “There, now can you tell how hungry you make me?”

  She nodded.

  “How hungry?”

  “Very?” He smiled at the lingering question mark.

  “I can see you’re a tough woman to convince.” He kissed her deeply as he reached between them and unfastened his denims. “Push my pants down a bit.”

  She frowned at him and then obeyed. He needed a few inches before he could work the hard length of his cock free. He caught her hand before she could retreat and brought it to him. His breath hissed through his teeth as her fingers encircled his shaft, not meeting but squeezing him erotically as she tried to encompass all of it.

  “God! I could come from this alone!”

  Her “Do you want to?” stroked along his cock with the tempting possibility. Lord knows he’d be good to go again afterward, but he’d already had his pleasure twice while making her wait for hers. He was a selfish bastard, but not that selfish. He shook his head, curled his fingers over hers and pumped himself through her fist—once, twice—just enough to draw his seed to the tip of his cock and confusion to her gaze.

  He kissed her again and said, “Sorry, Sunshine, you make me lose my head.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I do.” He pulled her hand from between them, and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm before putting it back on his shoulder. His cock nudged at her thigh, bobbing and straining to get closer, the way he wanted to get closer. He held off, not only because he wouldn’t be able to reach her breasts, but because he was so close to the edge of his control that he didn’t trust himself. She was just the hottest woman he’d ever met. And so innocently unaware of her appeal. She drove him crazy with the conflicting desires to fuck her raw, or to sweep her away to seclusion and protect that aura of innocence. Even from himself.

  Her breasts quivered as her next breath caught in her throat. He watched the jiggle fade to a shimmer of motion that blended with her breathing. His blood thrummed through his veins. He touched the gossamer sheer bodice where it lay just above her nipple. That soft, pink nipple just begging to be awakened. Maybe he’d just settle for a compromise between his conflicting desires—putting her on a pedestal during the day and wallowing in her innate sensuality at night.

  “Jenna?”

  “What?”

  “You are going to have to trust me. You are one damned beautiful woman.”

  He pulled the bodice down. Her lip slipped between her teeth. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder, her short nails pricking him. He forced his breath to come evenly, not wanting to make her more nervous. He was one inch from having that tempting breast in his mouth when she whispered his name.

  It was his turn to ask, “What?”

  “I’m not ready.” Did she think he was going to jump on her?

  “I know, Sunshine, but we’ll get there.”

  He brushed his lips across her nipple. Her gasp wafted over his head. Her palms pressed on his shoulder. He shifted up. His hair fell forward, sliding over her cheeks, casting her face in shadow, obscuring her expression. He lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips parted immediately beneath his. Her tongue met his. She was soft and eager and still she pushed at his shoulders.

  “What is it?”

  “I need to get ready.” Obviously, she wasn’t talking more kissing.

  “What more do you need?”

  “My cream. Please let me get my cream.” She pushed harder. He leaned back. Her “I’m sorry” was breathless as she scrambled out from under him. “I dropped it when you knocked on the door. I think it rolled under the bed.”

  As she talked she was moving, the sheer gown billowing around her as she dropped to her knees. He sat up. Her head disappeared under the bed.

  “Jenna?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just so dark I can’t find it.”

  He leaned back on his elbow and admired her ass as it wiggled back and forth. If he was reading the signs right, they’d be getting much better acquainted in just a few minutes.

  “Take your time.” The light rumble of glass across uneven wood alerted him to the fact that she’d found the jar.

  She backed out from under the bed. He stroked her ass, squeezing the left globe, taking her into his palm, smacking that full nether cheek lightly as she popped up, clutching the jar to her chest. Her gaze dropped to his straining cock and then back to his face. Her free hand rubbed the sting from his swat as she stood, poised as though to flee.

  It wasn’t hard to read her mind. She was worried she couldn’t take him. He held out his hand. Not only would she take him, he’d make damned sure she enjoyed it.

  “Give me the jar, Jenna.”

  She bit her lip and actually took a step back. He caught her before she could take another, pulling her into his lap, shifting her weight so her ass cushioned his cock. She wiggled. Sensation shot outward reverberating against his control. He cupped her thigh in his hand, spreading his fingers out for maximum contact. He took the jar from her hands. She was an adventurous little thing for sure.

  He tipped her face up with his finger. “Kiss me, Sunshine.”

  She did, using her lips and tongue without hesitation, making him wonder how he could have ever thought her inexperienced. He turned her so that she fell back on the bed. Her hair surrounded her in a golden cloud, setting off her bright blue eyes above her fiery cheeks. He caught her head in his palm, easing her down, smiling at the surprise on her face. He held up the jar.

  “You sure this is what you want our first time?”

  She nodded. “I prefer it.”

  No doubt there. The lust he’d been holding under a tight lid burst free. He had all night to get to the rest of her, but now he had an open invite to his favorite playground.

  “Roll on your stomach.” His voice was hoarse with the desire ripping at him. She frowned at him but turned over, slowly, so slowly that she had to know what it was doing to him. Had to be doing it deliberately. He slapped her rear again
for her impudence, a light smack that had her falling into position. Her ass was gorgeous, full and wide, beautifully white. The faint pink of his handprint lingered on the left cheek. He placed his hand over the mark, a brand of dark flesh against her pale skin. He curled his fingers into her fullness, making four indents in that soft flesh. He released the pressure. The flesh sprang back, resilient. Like her.

  He stood. The bed was high, built to his specifications. Built so he could enjoy a woman in comfort while standing. He slid his hand under Jenna’s waist. With a tug he drew her to the edge of the bed so that her legs dangled off. She was just tall enough that her toes skimmed the floor. She would be helpless when he took her. Unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he coaxed from her body. Son of a bitch, he liked the thought of that.

  She propped her torso up on her elbows, and shot him one of those glances over her shoulder. “I don’t think this is the best way.”

  “I do.”

  He popped the metal bar holding the lid in place and opened the jar. It had a light honey scent. He scooped a bit out and rubbed it between his fingers. It seemed to be merely a scented lubricant and nothing more. He had some creams in his supply that she might like better. Creams that would add to her enjoyment.

  He rubbed the base of her spine with his fingertips. “Baby, would you like to try one of my creams this time?”

  “No.” She jumped against his hand. “Mine works just fine.”

  The tension in her muscles spread outward.

  “Shh, it was just a thought.” He kissed her right buttock, then her left, and then the tiny rosette between.

  Her shriek was an inward draw of breath. There was no mistaking her shock. Damn! He would have liked to linger there, but she was too nervous. Her husband must have been an ignorant SOB.

  He straightened and stepped up to the bed. His cock touched her right cheek, pressing into the lush swell, sliding outward, his seed leaving a shiny mark. With his hand in the middle of her back, he held her still while he bathed the other side.

  “You have a beautiful ass, Jenna.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Wiggle it for me.”

  “What?”

  “Make it dance for me.”

  “I don’t understand.”