Thunder

by Taryn Kincaid

  She caught a whiff of fresh lime soap and licked the edge of his jaw, tearing a groan from him. He squeezed her tighter, the hard thrust of his erection insistent against the seam of her shorts.

  “What’s going on here, Sean?”

  “Looks like we’re each getting to act on our secret fantasy.”

  “I’m your secret fantasy?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  His breath tickled her ear, and the evidence of his desire stole her sanity until her head spun. She shivered with want. It had been so long since a man had looked at her with such, undisguised, unapologetic lust. His touch sparked electric twinges of need until her knees buckled and she momentarily lost her balance, overwhelmed by the masculine scent and taste of him. He supported her, one solid forearm bracing her lower back. The spa robe gapped open and her breasts rubbed against his bulging muscles. Fire.

  Her nipples instantly pebbled, shoving against her inconvenient halter top. She wanted her shirt gone. Her shorts gone. Her panties. All their clothes. Gone. She wanted to be taken, possessed, his body branding her. She wanted his cock driving into her again and again. Hard. Thick. Insatiable.

  A strangled little whimper bubbled from her throat.

  He spread her legs apart with his knee and bucked his hips against her thighs, his hands on her ass, lifting her into him. She squirmed closer, tilting toward him to bring the rigid bulge of male flesh closer to her center of need, rubbing herself against him, all but riding his leg in her frustrated quest for relief.

  “I’ll never make it upstairs to that Jacuzzi.” His warning words barely registered. His deep voice thrilled her, the tone low and tight, gruff with lust. “Better give me a sample to tide me over.”

  He lowered his head, his lips meeting hers in a ravenous kiss, and she sensed his deep hunger, a need that equaled her own. Pleasure flooded her, more intense than the storm raging outside.

  All fear, all trepidation and all hesitation vanished. No one but Sean could end her long drought. She’d crushed on him for months. Lusted for him from afar.

  All this time.

  All, apparently, mutual.

  I am so getting laid tonight.

  Chapter Five

  He was so doomed.

  His dick wouldn’t survive the night.

  His head wouldn’t. His heart wouldn’t.

  He was fucking starved for her.

  Veronica’s soft, smooth lips parted beneath his, and he deepened the kiss like a man crazed and possessed. He’d imagined being with this woman, a distant dream secretly nurtured in the most hidden part of him. The fantasy paled beside the reality of having her in his arms, lodged against his body like seams on a baseball. He dipped his tongue into the velvet recesses of her mouth, withdrew, delved inside again to play with hers.

  She clutched him to her, and they both gasped with the stunning impact of the kiss. And the next. And the next. Their breath mingled, and her subtle jasmine scent swirled around his brain, creating a hazy chaos that forced out all other conscious thought. Except that he had to have her.

  “You’re fucking me with kisses.”

  Her green eyes were dark with desire. The F-word falling from the sweet, kiss-swollen lips of the cool, serene Veronica Hardwicke was more than he could handle. His fantasy image of her shattered. The real woman in his arms—she was everything. He rested his hands on her shoulders, bending to graze his forehead against hers. He left light, soothing kisses on her eyelids, on her cheeks, gentle after the raw, carnal plunder of her mouth.

  “Yes.” He wouldn’t apologize. “Fucking you.” The image of their bodies twined together and writhing on a bed brought him too close to orgasm. Christ. He was on the verge of coming like a kid jerking off in his fist. He screwed his eyes shut, putting the powerful picture show playing in his head on pause, and then dragged in a deep breath, struggling to regain his control. It took him another moment to manage words. “Do you mind?”

  “No.” She tilted her chin up. “Do it again.”

  He needed no additional urging. He ravished her with his mouth again, thrusting his tongue deeper, dancing with hers, an emotional tango that took no prisoners. Possessive. Branding. Staking his claim. He nipped at the full lower curve of her bottom lip.

  “Fuck me for real.” Once again her crude command astonished him, driving him insane with need. The ladylike Veronica Hardwicke had chosen the words most calculated to kill him.

  He was totally lost. His cock throbbed, painful in its urge for satisfaction, jutting from the gap in the spa robe like an iron ramrod. No disguising the way he felt.

  “You’re sure, Veronica?” His guttural grunt could have shamed a caveman.

  “Yes.”

  “Here? Now?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes!”

  With impatient hands, she tore at the knotted belt of his robe.

  “Wait, princess.”

  He pushed her hands away and surveyed the cold, marble floor. Regret stabbed him. Jesus, he wanted her. But he couldn’t take her on the floor. Not this woman.

  “This isn’t going to be good.” He pictured bones crunching, vertebrae smashing, the force of his lust banging her delicate body into the stone beneath.

  “It’s going to be awesome.” She closed her eyes, swaying a little on her feet, as if overcome by emotion, shaken by desire.

  He bundled his discarded clothing in a heap on the floor, spread the damp towels over the mound. He fumbled urgently with the knot of his robe as much as she had, but he finally got the thing removed and covered everything else on the floor with it.

  “A poor bed for you, countess.” He shook his head.

  He turned back to her. She’d opened her eyes. Wide. Stared at his naked body with her hands clenched in small fists at her side, as if willing herself not to leap on him and carry him down to the floor. Her green eyes filled with a dark hunger and wildness he’d never suspected of her. Except in his fantasies. When her gaze fell to his erection, it twitched in response.

  “I don’t care.” She raised her arms, her hands going to the bow at the back of her neck that held up her tiny halter. He sucked in a groan when the material dropped from her, like a silk cocoon revealing a perfect butterfly. He ogled her breasts unabashedly, his mouth suddenly dry. He itched to touch her, to bury his face between her breasts, to palm her rounded fullness, to suck her tight, hard nipples into his mouth. He licked his lips. Stepped closer, until there was less than an arm’s length between them.

  But the temptress wasn’t finished with her striptease. Never releasing his eyes, she slid her fingers to the waistband of her short-shorts, flicking the button, dragging down the zipper. She stepped out of them, along with her panties.

  He could not find words. Her beauty stole his breath, stunned him like a blow from an iron fist, and caused his mind to visit TKO Land again. His head remained out for the count. But down below, things lit up like a fuckin’ amusement park at the Jersey shore.

  His cock jerked again. Hard, throbbing, pulsing with painful need. Like he needed a reminder.

  Feed me, feed me.

  Shut the fuck up!

  She met his gaze, her own rimmed with confusion, as if she did not quite understand his internal struggle; a small smile playing about the corners of her mouth as if she understood all too well.

  He did not deserve this woman. This magnificent, ravishing woman.

  Dropping to his knees before her, he bent his head in reverence. “Majesty.” He would charge into any battle for her, her eager champion, her willing slave.

  She eyed him, eyed the lumpy bed he’d cobbled together. “I’ve got this.”

  A wand appeared in her hand.

  What the fuck?

  He realized he didn’t care, didn’t even want to question her. All the blood in his body had traveled south. There was no room for anything else in his brain, except the way she looked, the way she would feel beneath him, crying out his name.

  She aimed the wand at the pile of clothes and toweli
ng, then tapped him lightly on each shoulder.

  “Arise, Sir Knight.”

  “Yours to command, majesty.” He winked at her. “But I’m enjoying the view from here. And I’m not sure I can stand right now.”

  He seized her waist and drew her toward him, stroking her flanks and meandering upward to cup the swell of her breasts. Resting his brow against her belly, he inhaled her sultry scent, the hint of jasmine, the essence of woman. Jesus, he wanted her. In every way possible, he wanted her.

  “I need to taste you.” He pressed his mouth to her delicate skin.

  A tremor of desire rocked her and she arched back, thrusting her pelvis forward to give him greater access. “I need you to.”

  Deserting her delectable breasts, he drew his hands downward again to grip her more securely. Lifting her knee, he pulled it over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, baby. Hold onto me.” He buried his face between her legs. So hot. So wet. So ready. The delicious bounty she offered drove him mad.

  She clutched his forearm, her other hand resting on his shoulder, the strange wand jutting from her first. He kissed the inside of her toned, velvety thighs, wringing gasp after gasp from her. He loved her sexy reactions to his every touch. She twined her fingers through his hair, each tug communicating her frenzied desire to him. Her responsiveness excited him, aroused him more. He licked her silken folds, gliding his tongue over the sensitive knot of her femininity, until she shivered against him, rewarding him with small sighs and fragile moans of ecstasy.

  He couldn’t get enough. Of her taste, of her scent, of the sounds of her bliss. Of the way she held him, as if he were an anchor in the midst of a storm.

  “Sean.” Her voice quavered with lust. She gripped him tighter, shaking. “Oh, Sean. So good. So good.”

  He lapped at her clit again, both soothing and torturing.

  “I will die,” she murmured. “Ah, Goddess. I will die.”

  “Not on my watch, princess.” His breath on her sensitive flesh incited her squirms and shivers. “But you will see heaven. Money back guarantee.”

  He sucked her slick, swollen nub again.

  She cried out. “Sean, Sean, please!”

  “I’ve got you.” He grasped her more securely. “I’ll never let anything hurt you, Veronica. Not even me.” But he paused, considering the impact of what he’d said, uncertain she could withstand the magnitude of his hunger.

  He raised his head. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She groaned. “Don’t you dare! So close. So close!”

  He continued to tongue her, playing his mouth and lips over her folds, delving inside for teasing tastes, toying, licking, lapping. She writhed, her body bucking. She ground against him, her moans louder, more desperate with need. He might die, too, but he’d die fucking happy. Outside, the wind and rain rattled the shutters. Another bolt of thunder boomed through the night.

  He barely noticed. Nothing existed but Veronica’s gasps and moans of delight, her voice ragged, lifted in passion. She seized him tighter and cried out his name, over and over, the music of pleasure bursting from her throat. She exploded with the power of her orgasm, contractions wracking her, until she slumped against him, nerveless, boneless, quaking with rapturous aftershocks, still sighing his name.

  This awesome woman in the throes of ecstasy was not something he’d soon—if ever—forget. He wanted, needed, to bind her to him. A one-night stand would never be enough. But how would she feel about him tomorrow in the light of day? The weather outside was a blip on the barometer compared to the storm of passion raging unabated through him.

  He leaned back, tumbling to the floor, taking her with him. The damp pile of clothes and towels had vanished, the marble cold beneath his back. He plastered her against his chest to cushion and support her. She sprawled over him, lazily flicking her fingers over his nipples. All but demented, he was ready to flip her over, marble floor be damned, and thrust into her.

  Her legs remained spread as if she’d never be able to close them again. Accepting the invitation, he glided his fingers down her body, over the sweet curve of her ass, between her thighs, slick and dripping with liquid lust. He stroked her gently, soothing and comforting at first, then gradually more demanding, as her body tensed with renewed arousal.

  “Love seeing you excited and…happy.” He’d never realized before how much sadness her eyes held. Until now. In its absence. “Could do this forever.”

  “Want you to. And I’m holding you to that.” The speed and intensity of his caresses increased and she bit her lips. “There are no muscles left in my legs. Left anywhere inside me. Goddess. That was unbelievable, Sean.”

  “What happened to our clothes, Veronica?”

  “Oh.” She raised her chin from his chest and gazed into his eyes. “Transported. The way you transported me.” She studied him, clearly uncertain about his reaction. “Mind?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  He shook his head. “I grew up in Sleepy Hollow, baby. I’m used to this mystical crap. My brother’s engaged to a succubus. As long as you don’t turn me into a lizard, I’ll deal. Can the discussions wait until morning?”

  “You’re such a man.” Her laughter elated him.

  He shrugged. “Got a willing babe sprawled on top of me who’s got me harder than the fucking imported marble floor breaking my back. Explanations can wait.”

  She grinned at him in delight. “I was so hoping you’d say that.” She groped around for her wand. “I’m taking this to the next level. Literally.”

  She flicked the wand over them and muttered something sounding suspiciously like “preening new owlet.”

  The marble beneath his back dropped away into nothingness, and he tightened his arms around his woman to protect her from…whatever. When the earth stopped spinning, he’d landed upstairs in the master bedroom suite, flat on his back in Veronica’s bed, her gorgeous, well-satisfied body still draped over his, like a warm, slick piece of living satin.

  His cock jumped with joy.

  Chapter Six

  Before she could blink, he’d lifted her off his chest as if she were weightless and rolled her onto her back. He rocked back on his haunches staring at her long and thoroughly.

  “That blush goes from top to toe.” He didn’t even try to hide his triumphant male grin. “You look like you’ve been well screwed.”

  “You might say that.” She stretched like a cat. “Though I’m not sure about that terminology exactly.” It had been so long since she’d felt a man’s touch. No one had ever brought her to orgasm the way Sean had. She petted him as if he were a dangerous exotic beast, caressing the taut muscles of his chest. It suddenly occurred to her she was a witch without a familiar. She wanted to get much, much more familiar with the man in her bed.

  “Something about you must agree with me.”

  His triumphant grin widened and then grew wicked. “My mouth sucking you to mind-blowing orgasm?”

  “Maybe.”

  He raised a brow. “My tongue inside you? My teasing fingers working my brand of magic?”

  “Maybe.” A small yawn escaped her. She clamped a hand over her mouth in apology. His emphasis on the word “magic” had not gone unnoticed, but he didn’t seem particularly inclined to pursue the thought.

  “Haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

  “Maybe I can make you feel even better.”

  “Hmm. Maybe. What else ya got?”

  “Had condoms when I arrived here tonight. Fuck me if I know where they are now.”

  “They’re still in your pockets.” She inclined her head toward the foot of her bed, where his clothes were spread over a chest. “And I intend to.”

  He scrambled for his jeans then returned to the bed, tossing several packets onto the night stand.

  “Optimistic when you drove up here?”

  “Hope springs eternal, baby.”

  She curled on her side and yanked open a drawer in the night table, revealing several boxes of protect
ion. His face darkened.

  “Lots of guys here before me?” His voice emerged gruffer than sandpaper. He grabbed her hand, his fingers around her wrist.

  “No. It’s been a long time for me. Since before my marriage. Philip was eighty-five and I was true to him. He’s been dead two years. We were together three. I was barely twenty-one when I met him. You do the math.”

  A gentle note glimmered in his eyes, and he relaxed his hand around hers. Drawing her fingers to his lips, he grazed his mouth across her knuckles. “The thought of you with other men makes me crazy, countess.”

  “Double standard much?”

  “It’s different.”

  “It’s not.”

  He considered her words, nodded once. “Well.” He gnawed on his lower lip. “I think all that may be over now. You’ve ruined me.” She stared at him in shock, his comment exciting her as much as his languid caresses. He looked away, toyed with her hand, then met her eyes again with deadly resolve. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.”

  “Still, Sean?”

  “More than ever. I’ve always been hot for you, princess. And hard.” He moved closer, taking possession of her breast, tickling his thumb over a nipple. She instantly pebbled in response to his touch. Arrows of fierce desire zinged through her again, blazing an arc of arousal from her breast to the sensitive core between her legs.

  “We can take this slow.” He drew lazy circles on her flesh. “As slow as you want, Veronica. As slow as you need.”

  His consideration thrilled her. The man in her bed, the man who’d taken her to paradise moments earlier, seemed so different from the brusque businessman and builder she’d so long lusted after. And so similar at the same time. She was on fire for him.