Fueling His Hunger

by Sparrow Beckett

  Luke was deep in heavy-lidded concentration as he fucked his way into her with gentle, tiny movements. So fucking huge. Bigger, bigger he stretched her, until she seriously considered safewording. Anxiety knotted her belly. How had he convinced her she wanted this?

  He pulled out, added more lube, started to push his way in again, easier this time, but still too damn big.

  “That’s it, pretty Ophelia, you can take all of it for me, can’t you?”

  Her brain felt like it was melting into a puddle of goo. In the mirror, his gaze had caught hers, and the heat in his eyes and stubborn set of his mouth held her transfixed.

  Wider, wider. She screwed her eyes shut, waiting for agony, but it was only discomfort and arousal, and the feeling that he was claiming her.

  When she opened her eyes again, his gaze bored into her, as hard and unforgiving as his cock.

  She was his. Her ass was his. She’d never let anyone else do this to her, ever.

  Abruptly, the head of his cock was all the way in. The terrible pressure eased. Her body was so relieved that more endorphins bombarded her.

  “That’s a good girl.” He paused for a minute, stroking her hair while her body adjusted to the feel of him. When he started again, he fucked his way into her more impatiently, and by the time his hips met her ass she was dazed, pushing back to meet his subtle thrusts. So full, yet her pussy was so empty. The weird sensation made her whimper and squirm against the pillow, seeking relief from the ever-growing heaviness and heat in her groin.

  “I knew you’d like this,” Luke growled, rolling his hips and thrusting harder. “Such a dirty little princess.”

  She gasped, moaned. Her bones felt hollow, and her legs were weak.

  “Are you going to go home and tell your friends how you let some pervert you barely know fuck your sweet little ass?”

  She opened her mouth, but only gasped, tasting the cotton under her face as he fucked her harder, jarring her, making her cry out. He went up on his knees, fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her hips up with him. Again and again he drove into her.

  Never. She could never tell anyone how much she loved this. Loved being treated like his filthy whore.

  His hand pressed up between her legs, catching her clit between cruel fingers. She choked, gagged on her own spit, gasping for breath as she struggled against him, loving that he didn’t let her pull away, just kept pounding into her, forcing her body take his lust, arousal spiking, shocked he was lasting so long when she was on the verge again.

  Her ass ached, quivered, clenched at him. He mauled her clit, and she fought back the orgasm, teetered on the brink, lost.

  She screamed in agonized pleasure, hurting her own ears as her empty pussy clamped down on nothing, her asshole milking his cock with great, shuddering pulses of muscle. His body locked over hers. His swears grated in her ears, deafening her as she felt his cock pulse and jerk inside her. The movement extended her own orgasm as his hand tightened convulsively and painfully on her clit. She cried out again with the aftershock, writhing beneath him as he collapsed on top of her, crushing her to the mattress.

  She lay there, stunned.

  Fuck, she felt high. She struggled to normalize her breathing and slow her galloping heart. The weight of him on top of her was the only thing keeping her from flying apart. He rolled his hips and hummed in her ear, sending pleasurable electric shocks down the length of her body. She shuddered hard, even as he pulled his hand away from her clit. The pillow insinuated itself between her legs as soon as his hand was gone.

  He rolled her onto her side and wrapped his thickly muscled arms around her, nudging her into the fetal position with his knees tucked against the back of hers. His breathing was as labored as her own. The thumping of his heart against her back was almost hard enough to be a massage.

  He kissed the side of her neck. She moaned quietly, arousal trying to rekindle despite the sore exhaustion of her body.

  “Lovely Ophelia, you blow my fucking mind.”

  There was no polite lie in his voice. He sounded amazed. By her. She smiled, wanting to be able to replay this exact moment for herself—the awed tone, the feel of his breath stirring her hair. Maybe again and again.

  No one had ever complimented her in bed, let alone said that she’d blown their mind. She wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but now she just wanted to figure out how to do it again.

  He pulled out, went to clean up, then carried her to the bath he’d left running. He got in first then pulled her in on top of him, settling her on his chest as though she was fragile and precious, rather than his filthy whore.

  She loved that she could be both to this man. Loved it even more when he held her close and kissed her eyelids as she dozed off, warm and safe in his arms.

  ***

  Ophelia woke slowly, memory creeping in like fog on a dreary night. Her body ached. Her limbs felt heavy and her clit and ass sore and abused.

  Oh god.

  Had she really just had anal with a guy she barely knew?

  She should probably feel ashamed but . . . there was, like, some weird glow growing in her chest. A high, a buzzing excitement that contrasted her limp, tired body.

  Last night had been the best sex ever. It’d been wild and crazy and amazing and she didn’t regret a single bit of it. Luke was . . . perfect.

  She turned to look at him, sprawled on his back, sound asleep, a muscled and tattooed menace that she’d worn out all by herself. The first light of dawn came through the crack between the curtains, casting a blue haze over his face. God, he was gorgeous.

  Smiling, she fought the urge to trace his sexy lips with her finger.

  The clock read seven in the morning. She should be exhausted but that buzzing took over and her mind spun too much to go back to sleep. But she didn’t want to wake Luke.

  Quietly, she crept out of bed and pulled on one of Luke’s T-shirts. It was almost a dress on her but she liked the way his scent hugged her. After finding a pair of yoga pants in her duffel bag, she stepped into them, then slipped on a pair of flip-flops and silently left the suite.

  She wasn’t sure where to go or what to do, but she felt restless. In the lobby, complimentary breakfast was being served. The smell of bacon and coffee lured her. After loading up a plate and pouring a mug of coffee, she took a seat in one of the big rocking chairs on the back porch.

  There she had a spectacular view of the lake and the mountains surrounding it. The chilly morning air gave her goose bumps but sipping coffee helped.

  A bird cawed in the distance, the water rippled softly, and she was overcome with a sense of perfect peace. There was room to think here, untouched by the pressure of society. No one telling her what to do or taking her picture.

  No wonder her father had fallen in love with this place.

  If she sold the company, what would happen to this lodge? Would the buyers leave it as it was now or would they want to make it grander? Or maybe they’d level it to build something else.

  No. Surely the park was protected by the government and it would stop them from building a glass and steel tower.

  What about the other amazing places she’d visited? The chalet in Sweden? Would new owners get rid of its folksy charm? How could she risk her father’s legacy like that? The decades he’d taken to build what he’d left to her?

  But why on earth had he left it to her? It wasn’t as if he’d been preparing her, or had given her any indication he’d planned for her to take over anytime in the near future. His death had been sudden, but still. He’d known he was getting up there in age. Would he have wanted her to sell it so she didn’t have to work a day in her life? He had always spoiled her. But he hadn’t trained an associate to take over either.

  Now that she thought about it, her dad hadn’t planned well at all.

  She sighed and set her coffee mug on the gr
ound with her empty plate. After tucking her legs underneath her, she leaned back and shut her eyes. Could she really just auction off her dad’s passion to the highest bidder? Just like that?

  The alternative wasn’t any better. Her running the company. She laughed inwardly. Would taking over destroy everything he’d built? She’d fuck it up. She had education but no business experience, nothing that gave her any right to run it.

  Maybe she should call a meeting with her dad’s advisors. They’d know what to do. Maybe they wouldn’t mind teaching her. She’d met one or two briefly before. Though at the time, they’d looked down on her like she was a child, surely now they’d have some respect. She could very well end up being their boss.

  Her phone beeped, startling her. She’d forgotten she’d tucked it into the waistband of her pants. She dug it out then looked down, expecting to see Luke’s name pop up. But it was her mother.

  Where are you???

  As annoying as her mother was, Ophelia did sort of feel guilty disappearing without telling anyone. She had no interest in dealing with her mother right now, but to ease her conscience, she texted her back.

  Needed a few days to think. I’ll be back soon.

  Her mom texted back right away and immediately Ophelia regretted answering her.

  New offer for the company. 300 million!!! If you don’t jump on this now Ophelia, you’re dumber than you look.

  She flinched. Wow. “Fuck you too, Mom,” she muttered.

  Three hundred million. Shit, that was a lot of money. She typed back, Who are the buyers?

  She drummed her fingers on the armrest while she waited for an answer.

  Some company out of Europe. They want to rebrand. Make it more modern.

  Ophelia grimaced. That was exactly what she was afraid of. What was wrong with his brand now? People loved him. They loved his hotels. Why change anything? She pictured her last name in lights on top of some spacey looking resort and it made her want to gag. Her father would be rolling in his grave. Although they’d probably ditch the Covington name too.

  But three hundred million. The other offer would probably change less, but was substantially lower. Her mother would never forgive her.

  Shit. Who was telling her mother company business, anyway? And why did her mother know about this offer when no one had told Ophelia first? She was the one who owned it all. Who the hell was interfering?

  Her phone beeped again.

  Well???

  Her chest tightened and her fingers suddenly stopped working. Anxiety rose, tying a knot in her belly. Crap. She really didn’t want to do this right now. Not while she was with Luke. Not while she was so in touch with the memory of her dad.

  Tears threatened but she held them back.

  Finally, she forced her fingers to move. I have to think about it.

  She choked back a sob and shut her eyes again, concentrating on the fresh smell of the air.

  “There you are,” a voice interrupted.

  Her eyes popped open.

  Luke smiled down at her from in front of her chair. “I was looking for you.”

  She cleared her throat and forced a small smile. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He nodded.

  “Um. There’s breakfast and coffee inside.”

  His gaze swept to the lodge entrance then back to her. “Are you going to disappear if I grab some food?”

  Chuckling, she shook her head. “No. I’ll wait here.”

  He stared down at her for an uncomfortable moment, making her wonder if he could read her mind. Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. “Be right back.”

  As he disappeared into the lobby, her phone beeped.

  The offer will expire eventually. Don’t be an idiot. Come home.

  She almost dissolved into tears, but pinched herself so she wouldn’t. What the fuck was she going to do?

  Chapter 12

  A pristine Lincoln Navigator sat in the far corner of the parking lot. There were no cameras. No security guards.

  Too fucking easy.

  Luke gave his head a shake then tossed their luggage into the back of Ophelia’s SUV.

  He wasn’t here for work. Besides, it’d be a dick move to steal someone’s vehicle on vacation in the middle of the mountains. It wasn’t as if they could get a ride home, fill out insurance paperwork and a police report easily. People came here with their kids. He wasn’t about to destroy someone’s vacation. Even he had limits.

  But god, he missed the rush. Although being with Ophelia had kept him on a high all its own.

  Soon he’d be back to his old life. Only a two-day drive back home. He’d been feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety since they’d woken up that morning. He was eager to get home to Fox and Atlas to help them deal with the shit going down. From the texts he’d been receiving, things weren’t getting better with the guy messing with them. But then there was another part of him that wasn’t ready to give up Ophelia.

  It was the elephant in the room. They’d packed in sullen silence, and he couldn’t really get a handle on what she was thinking. The girl had shut down late last night, and he was having trouble reading her.

  Was she sad they were leaving the park? Or was she as torn up about him as he was about her? He shouldn’t assume she felt anything for him, but it was hard not to hope.

  When he shut the tailgate of her SUV, it was harder than he’d intended.

  “Ready?” He turned to Ophelia behind him.

  She peered around her, taking deep breaths as she squinted into the sunlight. “I’m going to miss this place.” Her voice was tight with emotion.

  “Me too.” And he meant it. There was something spiritual about being there. More than just communing with nature. It was hard to explain, but was so profound he doubted he’d ever forget it. He was struck with an overwhelming sense that the person he’d just had this amazing experience with was about to walk out of his life forever.

  He had to get the fuck out of here before he did something stupid like buy property and build a fucking cabin or something.

  After moving to the other side of the car, he opened the door for Ophelia. Slowly, she ducked inside, a heart-wrenching frown on her face.

  When he slid into the driver’s seat, he put a hand on her knee. “You can always come back.” He’d really wanted to start that sentence with “we,” but he knew it would sound clingy.

  “Yeah.”

  The attempt at consoling her had been lame—he knew that—but what else was there to say? He sure as hell couldn’t think of anything. The last two days in the park, and with Ophelia, had been amazing. They’d found a swimming hole and jumped off of cliffs, braving the height and cold water. She was damn ballsy.

  They’d rented a canoe and circled the lake at dusk where they’d spotted a moose and her calf getting a drink. In the restaurant, they’d sampled every odd dish, even bison and elk. And each night, they’d fallen into bed laughing, cuddling, and fucking, in no particular order.

  He wished he could stay here with her forever.

  But duty called. And he loved his cousins too much to desert them, even for a place like Glacier. Even for a girl like Ophelia.

  Was this really it? Would he never see her again?

  About an hour out of the park, the silence between them became too much to bear. He reached and pressed the button to turn off the radio. Ophelia gave him a puzzled look.

  “So . . .” he said.

  “So?”

  “Umm.” He stumbled. Fuck. How was he going to bring this up? Just say it. “What happens now?”

  She leaned toward the dash and studied the GPS. “We stay on the highway for another twenty miles then—”

  “No.” He chuckled. “Not that. I mean what happens when we get back?”

  “Oh.” She folded her hands
in her lap and stared down at them. “I guess I’ll drop you off at home and . . .”

  It felt like he was holding his breath for an answer. But why? He knew what had to be done. They had to cut ties. To do differently would be stupid—for both of them. He’d only bring her trouble. He almost laughed, thinking about escorting her to fancy parties. A guy with a Mohawk and tattoos, who stole cars for a living, had no business being with an heiress.

  He didn’t want to ruin her life, as much as he wanted to be in her life. It would be selfish to think otherwise.

  But still, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping she wouldn’t want to just . . . disappear.

  “I guess that’ll be it,” she said softly.

  He spared a glance at her, wanting to see her expression, to know if she was as upset about it as he was. If she didn’t care, would it make it easier or would it hurt more?

  She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “This was a fling. We knew that.”

  Knife to the chest.

  “Right,” he said, eyes back on the road. “We knew that.”

  ***

  The SUV’s stereo system played some easy-listening pop crap, just loud enough for them to hear clearly over the crackle of the fire. Ophelia danced just at the edge of the firelight, drunk on pre-mixed margaritas they’d picked up at the grocery store. Luke watched her, sipping his beer, trying to think of any woman who compared to her. Even drunk she was sexy and adorable, and she could dance, her sense of balance not suffering in the slightest. As for himself, his legs and face were numb. Too bad the booze wasn’t working on his feelings. They’d be home tomorrow, and tomorrow was far too soon.

  When the song finished, she came back, falling beside him on the blanket and looking up at him with eyes that shone with more than the reflection of firelight.

  “I love that song so much.”

  “I wasn’t really listening to the song.”

  “No?”

  “No, I was busy watching a beautiful woman dance for me.”

  “Who, me? Or did a beautiful bigfoot come out of the woods to do a striptease?”