He shook his head, tenderness welling to mix again with lust. “I won’t take you past your limits, Jenna.”
“You already have.”
“No. I’ve just taken you past your fear.” He wiped another tear from her eyes. He bent to her breast. Her “What’s the difference?” whispered over his head. He kissed her nipple gently and smiled. “Pleasure.”
He opened his mouth just enough for her nipple to slide inside. Her whole body tightened as she waited. He stretched the moment out, keeping her on edge until her breath caught in her throat and her pussy pulsed against his cock, spilling her hot juices over his aching balls. He circled her nipple with his tongue, riding the intriguing bumps and ridges, probing the dip in the center. She shuddered and tried to arch again. He held her in place with his weight and his fingers in her hair. By the time he was done with loving her, the only reaction she’d have to his mouth on her breast would be sighs of pleasure. He kissed his way down the side of her breast.
“You’re going to come for me Jenna,” he murmured into the deep valley. She bit her lip and skirted his gaze. He caught the drop of perspiration on his tongue as it trickled down the slope of her breast. “And then you’re going to come again, simply because it’ll please me.”
“What about you?” Her voice was a tense grope for sound.
“I’ll come when you’re satisfied.”
“But you’re ready now.”
He was more than ready. Being wrapped in her heat was pure torture. His cock ached and a steady stream of pre-come dribbled past his control, but the drive to bury himself in her was nothing compared to his need to watch her flower for him. To see her lose her sense of self, to know that she’d put her trust in him, and to know that he’d delivered. He wanted that more than he wanted his next breath.
“It’ll be better for the wait.” Her pussy clenched against him and he pressed his open mouth to her flesh. His good intentions took a dive. Son of a bitch, she was going to be the death of him. For sure he wasn’t going to last as long as he’d hoped.
As if she felt that momentary lapse, she touched his hair and whispered, “You don’t have to wait.”
She was too generous, too willing to put him first. Her giving nature and her soft heart ganged up with his selfish side to deny her the pleasure she deserved. For a moment, he was tempted. But only for a moment. This was his Jenna. His one good thing. He was her husband. The one person in the world she should be able to count on to put her first. And tonight she was definitely coming first. Hot, hard, and long. And as many times as he could manage.
“No trying to talk me out of it. I’ve made up my mind.”
“You have?”
“Yes. You come first.” He tested the firmness of her breast with his teeth. The heat that surged against his lips let him know that she’d gotten his meaning.
“I like the way you pinken up for me.” He arched her head back, kissing the hollow of her throat before returning to her breast. “And I like the way your breath catches when you feel my teeth.
“The way you shiver when I kiss your breasts.” He kissed his way down over her collarbone before pressing a kiss into the upper curve of her chest. He moved down, smiling when she sucked in a breath and held it as he trailed his hand from the back of her neck, down the side of her throat, and along the ridge of her collarbone until he got to the crease of her arm. He lingered there a bit, teasing those betraying goose bumps to the fore before skimming his thumb across her other nipple.
“But I especially like the way you arch and moan when I take these sensitive little nipples into my mouth.” She did more than arch and moan—she grabbed his hair and pulled him closer. He was happy to oblige, taking as much as he could, suckling her lightly at first, ignoring her demands for more, keeping it easy until a fine sweat broke out over her body, and she was yanking on his hair while the sweetest pleas for more broke from her lips. Against the length of his cock, her pussy spasmed with equal desperation.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, flexing his hips so that his shaft stroked in a smooth glide along her clit in time with his fingers. “Burn for me.”
“I need you now.” She tossed her head as she bit her lip.
“I want to see you going up in flames first.”
“Please.”
He looked up. Her lips were full and red from her biting, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glowed dark with a need that had his balls pulling up tight. He gave her what they both wanted. Changing his pace, increasing the pressure of his hand and mouth, judging from her high-pitched whimpers when he had it right, knowing from her staggered breath and inner tension when he could give her more. He lashed her nipple with his tongue before sucking it hard, drawing her deep into his mouth, then pinching her other nipple between his fingers and holding tight while jiggling her breast.
Her climax caught them both by surprise. Her legs snapped tight, her back arched, and her breath exploded from her lungs before she jackknifed up into him. He caught her against his chest, holding her to him as her tears flooded his chest and her juices drenched his groin.
“Son of a bitch, Sunshine,” he muttered, lifting her limp body, holding her with one arm under her hips while he positioned his cock at the still-twitching entrance to her pussy, lowering her gently onto his shaft, moaning as her heat seared him, pulling his balls up tight. “It’s damn fun playing with you.”
She took all of him in one smooth stroke, her quivering muscles offering no resistance to the firm push of his cock, shuddering against him as he seated himself to the hilt, her head falling back as the broad base spread her to her limit.
He kissed the exposed hollow of her throat, tasting the salt of her passion and her tears, wallowing in her warmth and acceptance. No matter how he came at her, she welcomed him with open arms. Like now. He raised her again and she whimpered a protest, but wrapped her arms around neck.
“And to think,” he whispered against her ear as he lowered her onto the thick wedge of his cock again. “I’ve just gotten started.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Wake up, Sunshine, it’s time to have fun.”
Jenna stirred, her eyes closed. She stretched languidly in the warm bed, luxuriating in the softness, and a solid night’s sleep. The fact that Brianna hadn’t woken her penetrated her complacency.
She was moving before her eyes opened. “Bri!”
“Is fine.” Clint caught her and held her against his chest as he fussed with the pillows. With her cheek pressed against his shoulder, she inhaled his scent. She just loved the way he always smelled of smoke and the outdoors. The smoky smell was a little stronger today, meaning he’d been up for a while. Long enough to have a cigarette.
“How long have you been up?”
“Button wanted to see the sunrise.”
“I would have taken care of her.”
“You needed some sleep. And she’s decided to take a nap now so drink up and enjoy the peace.” He eased her back onto the pillows he’d stacked, and pushed a cup of coffee into her hand.
A strand of hair fell over her brow. She reached to move it out of the way, but Clint’s hand intercepted hers, taking care of the matter for her. As he was always doing. She took a sip of her coffee. It was hot and rich with just the right amount of cream, though short a couple of sugar chips. She hid her grimace in another sip.
The mattress dipped as Clint sat on the edge.
“Coffee all right?” he asked slipping his arm around her back, pulling her into his side.
“Perfect.” She leaned against the shoulder he provided. “Thank you for taking care of Bri, and for the coffee.”
He took a drink of coffee, his black eyes alight with humor over the cup brim, alerting her to the fact that there was something she should be remembering.
“I had an ulterior motive.”
She shook her head. No doubt he wanted a chocolate cake for dessert tonight.
The cup lowered, revealing the predatory edge of his smile
. She reevaluated. Maybe something more than a chocolate cake.
“Is your woman’s time over?” He slipped the question into the conversation as though he was asking about the weather.
She gasped. Coffee went down the wrong way. As she choked and coughed, Clint took her cup with one hand, slapped her on the back with the other, and swore when he knocked her forward. His second slap landed much more gently, merely jostling her. She kept her head down for a minute after the urge to cough had faded. She knew she was blushing beet red. Her cup waved under her nose, the steam from the hot liquid mixing with the moisture in her eyes. The scent soothed her nerves.
“Sorry,” Clint apologized. “Should have eased into that one.”
“It’s all right. She didn’t think they needed to discuss it at all. She took the cup.
“So is it?”
“Yes.” She’d seen stray dogs with a bone display less tenacity.
“Good.”
His smile broadened before he raised his mug to his lips. She watched the muscles in his throat work as he drained it, letting her gaze drift over his face while he was distracted. He was such a handsome man with those even features and chiseled lips. Just looking at his lips had her nipples tingling. It had been a rare moment during the time they’d been together the last few days that those lips hadn’t been on her breasts, nibbling and kissing. Ever since he’d found out that he could make her orgasm that way, he’d been relentless in his attentions. To the point that she was getting sore.
He put the mug on the table with a decisive click and cocked an eyebrow at her when he caught her staring. The right corner of his lip kicked up knowingly. Every nerve ending in her body leapt in response. Nothing—nothing on this earth—was as mesmerizing as Clint McKinnely when he smiled.
“Penny for your thoughts?” She buried her face in her cup and shook her head. He sighed and gave her one of those quick hugs that warmed her way down deep. “You’re a selfish woman, Jenna McKinnely.”
He didn’t sound upset.
Clint leaned to the left, pulling her with him as he went. She held her coffee up and trusted him to control her descent to the mattress. The sound of wood sliding on wood caught her attention, but when Clint pulled his hand back, she couldn’t see what he’d pulled from the bed standdrawer.
He loomed over her as she lay there, his hair falling around his naked shoulders and a wicked grin hovering on his lips.
“Stay put.” As if she had any choice with his big hand on her belly keeping her there. The sheets rustled as he turned and slid to the floor. The high bed put her hips level with his shoulders. His hand disappeared under the comforter while the smile on his lips spread to his eyes.
“Now we get to really play.”
His fingers closed on her calf, squeezing lightly before sliding up and between them. The muscles in her throat appeared to be connected to the muscles in her leg, because every time he stroked her thigh, her throat tightened until it was almost impossible to swallow. She cleared her throat and found a parody of her voice.
“Play what?”
“With toys.”
Toys? She blinked and tried to concentrate but his hand moved, the rough surface of his palm rasped across sensitive nerves until his knuckles brushed the curls shielding her pussy. Pleasure—sharp, sweet, and unexpected—shot through her body. Clint held her still for another touch, equally feather-light, equally devastating. It was as if all the play of the last few days had been designed to culminate in this one moment.
Moisture flooded her thighs, and for one horrible moment she thought her woman’s time had returned. But even as she stiffened, Clint was pushing her gown out of the way, the roughness of his morning beard scraping along already attentive nerves. She couldn’t help the cry that escaped her lips or the moisture that leaked from her pussy as he parted her with his fingertips.
“Ah, Sunshine, you’re getting wet for me.” His tongue swept the tender inner flesh. “I like that.”
That was good because she didn’t have any choice.
A dull thud penetrated her senses. The coffee cup hitting the floor. There was going to be a mess. She didn’t care. Couldn’t care, because Clint was working her clit like he did her nipples. Soft tender kisses followed by gentle laps and then a series of nips and nibbles that had her fingers digging into the coverlet and her teeth biting her lip.
“Dear God.”
“Just you and me here, baby.”
Desire drove through her like a steam engine, gathering speed with every pass of his hot tongue. He pulled her hips down into his face. His beard pricked. His tongue lapped, and she cried out, shifting her grip to his hair. The smooth strands tangled with her fingers as she pulled him closer.
“What do you want, Jenna?”
She wanted him. Harder. Higher. But all that came out of her mouth was a ruptured, “Please.”
“Please what?” His chin brushed the top of her pussy, dusting her clit with a sprinkle of sensation. So close to giving her what she needed. So close. He paused. “Too much?”
She shook her head. The pleasure ebbed back from the high of the moment before. She didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
“Not enough?”
She nodded.
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Just picture it in your mind and then give me the words.”
“I can’t say that!”
He cocked his eyebrow at her. “That good, huh?”
She groaned and closed her eyes.
“How about I just take a guess?” His guess had to be better than her saying anything. She nodded.
There was a soft thunk as whatever he took from the drawer landed on the floor. His hands slid up her calves, and over her knees, slowly parting her legs while holding her gaze. He hooked first one and then the other ankle on his shoulders. His flesh was hot against hers. He turned his head, brushing her ankle with his mouth. Fire streaked up her leg. She jerked and he laughed, trailing the backs of his fingers up the inside of her knees, then turning his wrist so that his palms hugged her thighs until his thumbs reached her labia.
“I like you wet like this.”
His thumbs traced the crease of her outer lips, tugging at the hairs, tempting her. On her next breath, his thumbs slipped between the slick folds, the calluses rasping the sensitive tissues. Her womb contracted. Her fingers dug into the quilt as she struggled to contain the sinful sensation streaking outward, knowing it was hopeless even as she made the attempt.
Clint wouldn’t allow it. Never allowed it. Sure enough, his fingers dipped within, gliding on her cream to the center of her heat before working with deliberate torment back to the top of her cleft. He rubbed the inside of each engorged lip in a gentle circular motion, grazing her swollen, aching clit in random patterns, nudging her desire higher with erratic strokes she couldn’t foresee, couldn’t control. Until she couldn’t hold still. She needed him. His touch, his mouth.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please don’t make me beg.” She wrapped his hair around her fingers and pulled.
His fingers circled her clit, spreading them out and then narrowing in until he had the eager nubbin trapped in his grasp. It wasn’t enough. She lifted her hips up toward his hands and mouth, offering herself to him in helpless need. He laughed and squeezed gently. She dug her heels into the hard muscles of his back, and yanked hard. His laugh deepened, but didn’t give her what she wanted.
“Please,” she whispered again, her voice breaking on a humiliated sob, feeling as if her whole being centered for this moment in this one little spot, hating herself for the weakness he drew from her so easily.
“Shh, baby,” His deep drawl worked under her insecurity, soothing her fear with the stroke of softness, building her confidence with the promise of strength. “I’m just making it good.”
If he made it any better she’d die. Even as she had the thought, he took her higher, closing
those teasing fingers on her clit in a steady pinch. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to have every fiber of her being straining to get closer. And then he started milking her clit the way he milked her breast—light, short, deliberate strokes that pulled every one of those fibers to a grinding pitch of desire until the tormenting need exploded in a burning conflagration of lust so strong that she screamed. Her hips lurched as he lunged upward. His broad palm slapped over her mouth.
The suddenness of the move scared her into silence. When she dared to look over his hand, he was staring down at her, shaking his head, an impossibly wicked smile playing on his lips.
“Quiet, or you’ll wake Brianna.”
Oh heavens, she didn’t want to wake Brianna, but she didn’t know how she was going to survive this. Not as she was now, her legs over his shoulders, her hips raised off the bed, her body open and vulnerable to anything he wanted.
“Take a breath now, baby.”
She did, resting her fingers on the solid muscle of his shoulders.
“Hold it.” He eased his palm from her mouth. “Don’t scream, no matter what.”
She dug her fingers in and nodded.
“Good girl.” He kissed his way down her torso, stopping at the undercurve of her breast to draw an intricate pattern over that spot that was connected directly to her pussy. Her breath caught in her throat, and her juices pulsed from her womanhood to flow over her buttocks, dampening the comforter. He abandoned her breast and slid down, his chest hair tickling her abdomen. He spread her thighs wider and then pressed that prickly soft mat of hair against her distended clitoris. His tongue dipped into her navel as he rubbed against her like a big, contented cat—his smile pressing into her belly as she whimpered. “Now that’s a sweet little noise. Give it to me again.”
She did, helpless to do anything else as he lifted her up, spreading her thighs wide with his shoulders, leaving her open to his mercy.
He had none.
He held her there for a heartbeat, his breath blowing on her flesh, wafting over her dripping folds before crashing into the barrier of her clit, seeming to wrap around the hypersensitive spot in an undulating promise.
Promises Prevail Page 22
