The ground here was uneven, and if the underbrush was already scratching her ankles, she could imagine what it would do to other bits of her.
They made their way up the next small hill, stopping when they reached a hip-high outcropping of rock that was more or less smooth. He lay his hand against the stone.
“It’s even warm.”
“Such a gentleman.” She rolled her eyes.
“Better than when you ended up in the dirt, but that was your fault for being distracting.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault your IQ drops when you’re horny?”
“Of course.” He looked down at her, his gaze betraying both heat and something akin to affection.
Would he remember her fondly after they went their separate ways? How long would it take before he just thought of her as the girl from the road trip? Would he forget about her altogether?
And what if they ran into each other? Vegas was only so big. How would it feel to see him with some other girl on his arm?
An anxious possessiveness flashed through her. Why was she even thinking about this? It was pointless. Did she expect him to join the priesthood when today was over?
And yet . . . would it be so wrong to ask if he was Catholic?
“It’s too bad we can’t see each other anymore,” she blurted finally. Meeting his gaze for so long was making her feel too open and raw.
“It really is.” He kissed her then, slowly, as though he wanted to remember it. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part. “It’s less scandalous for you, and safer for me, if we don’t. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
It would be so much easier to deal with going their separate ways if he wasn’t so much fun to be around. Being with him brought a mixture of exhilaration and yet a feeling of safety to her life. He understood her in ways no one else had ever bothered trying to, even though it had only been a week. They clicked, but more than that, he made her feel interesting and intelligent and important—before and after he had his nefarious way with her.
With all the shit she had going on in her life with her dad’s company—now her company—it would have been so nice to have someone in her corner. Someone like Luke, who she could love and relax with and vent to and didn’t have some sort of suspicious level of interest in her business activities.
Crap. Was that the L-word that just trotted through her mind? She was losing it.
His charming face was serious now. The twinkling of dark eyes, the sexy smile, and the impish dimples had fled, leaving what—regret? Disappointment? Maybe even sadness? No one was that good an actor. She was too adept at reading people to fall for a guy acting sad to try to let her down easy. He hadn’t been faking his feelings for her at all, which made this suck even more.
Unrequited love was awful, but this feeling that they could have had something real together, something awesome, was worse. But the harsh truth was their individual circumstances would never allow for them to be together.
She needed to accept that and enjoy their last few hours together. Then she’d have to put this beautiful human being behind her.
Whoever Luke Larson ended up marrying was going to be one lucky woman.
Whoever he slept with next was going to get a fist in the eye.
Ugh. None of her business, right?
Just think about now. Don’t think about later.
He kissed her again, like he was losing something by losing her, and she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Breathing in the scent of his river-washed body, knowing that for a long while the scent of the forest would make her think of him. Maybe forever.
Kisses moved from her mouth and trailed down to the hollow of her throat. He brushed his lips lower, over the swell of her breasts, making her sigh with pleasure. She rubbed her hands over the stubbled sides of his head, loving the way the short hair there felt against her palms. It was an addictive feeling, and the longer they were together, the less shy she was getting about rubbing his head. He chuckled, the curve of his lips against her skin bringing a sad smile to her lips, not that he could see it.
He drew the dress off her, and the sun warmed her skin as he spread the garment out on the rock. He added his T-shirt to the layout, took off her bra, and put it aside.
“I guess I should have grabbed a blanket.” He smiled crookedly.
“It’s perfect just like this. I’m tough, remember?” She traced a finger over his tattooed chest, then flicked one of his nipple rings.
He grabbed her ass right where she had a bruise from his belt. She squeaked and went up on her toes, leaning against him to get away from his hand.
“Yes, so tough, my girl.” He chuckled and kissed her again, but his words hurt. She wasn’t his. Not really. At least not once they got back to Vegas.
He lifted her onto the laid-out clothing, coaxing her into stretching out on her back. There was an unexpected slant to the rock that made it easy to watch him. A small breeze skimmed over her, teasing her already puckered nipples, tickling her belly, cooling the arousal that slicked her thighs. He stretched over her, trailing kisses down between her breasts, the undersides of them, along her ribs, tasting her belly and flicking his tongue along her sides, nipping every once in a while, maybe to make sure she stayed awake. Like she’d fall asleep with him working his way slowly downward?
Impatience made her push down on the top of his head, mussing the stiff crest of Mohawked hair that never seemed to lie down.
“No,” he growled, smacking the inside of one of her thighs. “If you want my mouth on your pussy, you have to wait like a good girl.”
She groaned, having already spread her legs wide for him, eager for his mouth. That kind of presumption and initiative never would have crossed her mind with any of the other guys she’d slept with. But it wasn’t her fault. He was the one who made her feel so naughty, and sexy when she’d never felt sexy before. The man could do wicked things with his tongue, and he went down on her as if giving her screaming orgasms was his life’s purpose. She was getting obsessed with it, which was saying something, considering she’d never been a fan of oral.
“So impatient.” He tsked. A long lick from navel to hip turned into a bite at the end, and she sighed, but tried her best to stay still. The only problem with being the submissive one in a dynamic was not being able to hurry things along.
“It’s your fault for training my body to respond to you,” she pointed out. “Just last week I told Chloe I liked my vibrator better than I liked men.”
“Not anymore?”
“My vibrator doesn’t make my eyes cross, and it never spanks me or bites me.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I haven’t seen any that offer those features. It’s a serious gap in the personal massager market.”
“Maybe I’ll have to hire some guy to come by and make me a very sorry girl once a week.”
Luke’s eyes flashed with a mixture of arousal and anger. “You have my number.”
“But I thought—”
He nipped the inside of her thigh, erasing her line of thought entirely, and replacing it with quivering anticipation. What was coming next? A bite? A lick? His fingers?
Her breathing had turned ragged, and she held on to either edge of the rock she lay on, bracing herself for everything and nothing.
Gentle fingers spread her pussy, pressing her labia apart and down, exposing her clit hood. Her clit was throbbing, hopeful for his tongue. She was so close to coming just from the anticipation.
“I told you, if you need anything after I bring you home, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“We can’t date.”
“No. But I can give you what you need once in a while, on the down low, until you find someone.” As he spoke, his breath drifted over her aching clit, and she had to force herself not to tilt her hips upward to his mouth. So fucking close to wher
e she wanted him.
Wait. Did he just offer to sneak around with her? Ugh. Putting that on the table right now wasn’t fair. She wasn’t capable of thinking clearly with his mouth only inches from her clit.
But to have this whenever she wanted it? To have him?
His offer was far too enticing, and not a good idea for either of them—especially when she was in imminent danger of falling for him. Things had already gone far enough.
Maybe too far.
He brushed his lips over her clit hood, back and forth, featherlight and maddening, drawing her back to the moment. Every touch was torture, and every pause was agony.
She tried to be a good girl and not to squirm, but soon she was digging heels against rock, hopefully following the movements of his mouth.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Luke.”
“Please what?”
“It’s not fair,” she whined.
“What’s not fair?” His mouth was moving against her as he spoke. It was almost enough.
“I need you,” she said, pouting. She cupped her breasts, then caught her nipples between her fingers, rolling and pinching them the way he did sometimes, but frustratingly, it didn’t have the same effect.
“You need my mouth here?” He held her down harder, his hands like iron on her thighs, holding her open, his breath caressing her heated core. His voice had gotten even deeper, resonating in her belly.
Fuck. She was so close, and so deliciously at his mercy.
He traced his tongue over the sensitive skin around her clit, exploring. The tension in her body put her at risk of shaking apart. She forgot to play with her nipples as he teased her. Lick, kiss, lick. Each movement of his mouth drew an involuntary gasp or whine from her.
“Poor baby,” he crooned. “Why are you so wet?” Without waiting for an answer, he slid his finger through her slickness, then up inside her. His hot mouth latched onto her clit and he started to gently suck. The pull of his mouth and push of his finger froze her in place. Her eyes fell closed, and the sun painted the insides of her lids with light.
The movements of his mouth and fingers overrode every other sensation as he explored and teased her. He finger-fucked her, pausing when the feats of his clever tongue got her too close to coming. Eased off. Began again. A second finger joined the first, curved to rub against her G-spot. Her clit became slave to his thumb and mouth, changing suction for friction then back again, forcing her arousal to a desperate pitch and left it hovering there, waiting for him to decide she’d suffered enough.
He stopped again, catching her wrist when she tried to smack him.
“Heartless bastard,” she complained.
In a blur of movement, he flipped her belly down on the bare rock and swatted her ass. She felt small and vulnerable with her feet dangling above the ground.
“What do you need to do if you want to come, little girl?” he growled, slapping her again, then again but harder when she didn’t respond fast enough. The burn lent its heat to the warmth between her legs.
“Wait?” She groaned in frustration. “I need to wait if I want to come.”
“Until what?”
“Until you decide I deserve it.”
“That’s right.” The sound of his belt coming off made her sob with anticipation. “I guess you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be bad.”
A sound that was more of a strangled growl was his initial response until he calmed down enough to make words happen.
“So you agree you need to be punished?”
After a quiet pause, she admitted, “Yes, Luke.” She wriggled in place, wishing she could touch herself.
The first stroke of his belt was pure rapture.
“Careful, sweetheart. You’re going to give me the impression that you like this.”
The second stroke made her cry out, but in pain.
Well, she tried to pretend it was pain, but he didn’t seem fooled.
“You think I like this?” She gasped. “No! It hurts and it’s humiliating.”
He traced a finger along the welt he’d just left, and her shuddering sigh probably tipped him off.
The next two belt strokes were hard as hell and made her screech in protest. When he stopped, adjusting to the horrible sting made her regret baiting him. Blearily, her bones turned to jelly, she had to admit it made her want him even more.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t have tried to slap you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
If she thought he was done, she was mistaken. One belt stroke followed the next until her world was a red haze of pain. She hated it, loved it, hated it again. Loved his mastery over her even though her ass was on fire. Her clit pulsed, jealous at being ignored. She squirmed her hips against the stone, but her attempt to find something to rub against failed miserably. When he stopped, she was pretty sure she’d become one with the rock.
His hands slid over her abused flesh, soothing it yet making it worse, turning the pain into a deep, throbbing need. Panting, she lay still, letting him do what he pleased. He palmed her ass, spreading the cheeks apart, probably amused at how wet her pussy was, or maybe looking at her asshole. The idea turned her on but also made her want to move her hand to hide it from his view. She knew better than to try that. Now wasn’t the time to incite another spanking. Not when she was pretty sure he’d flayed a layer of skin off already.
“Are you going to be a good girl now?” he husked, crouching to examine his handiwork more closely.
“Yes, Luke.” Her voice caught on his name. “I’ll be a good girl.”
He grunted like her words pained him, and she spread her legs farther apart, finding a shallow outcropping she could rest her toes on. Would he choose to fuck her now?
Instead, his breath fanned over her hot skin, soothing yet tickling, and she stayed very still. What was he up to now? His lips touched her, gently exploring the welts he’d made, kissing every inch of her soreness. Soon, all that was left of her was a string of jangled nerves and an even more horrible need.
She wanted to rush him, to get what she needed, but she also didn’t want this last time to be over.
There was the sound of his zipper and the opening of a condom wrapper. He rolled her onto her back, onto the pile of their clothing, smiling down at her in a way that made her stomach knot up. In the middle of the forest like this, he looked uncivilized and brutish, all chiseled planes and angles, muscle moving smoothly under inked skin. Scary but beautiful. His eyes gleamed with fiendish intensity as he grabbed her thighs and dragged her closer, until her ass was at the very edge of the rock. She spread her legs wider, inviting him to take her. Instead he stopped, admiring her, catching her chin in one of his hands when she tried to turn shyly away.
“Look at me.”
She did, even though the full force of the appreciation in his eyes was hard to handle. It made her feel shy. She wanted to tell him he was wrong—that she wasn’t as pretty as he seemed to think she was, but she let him lie to himself.
Ever so slowly, he pushed his thick cock into her pussy, staring into her eyes as her body eagerly accepted his. Pleasure blurred her vision, and her body grew more impatient and desperate with every gradual inch he gave her. Sweat prickled and broke out along her skin, and a shiver ran the length of her side and neck, then crept over her cheek to her hairline.
When his hips were pressed into her thighs, and his cock had filled her entirely, she fought to process how good it felt to finally have what she needed, and enjoy the anticipation of what he’d do next. Her vision began to clear, only to show him watching her face with a fierce, tender possessiveness. She should have stopped him then, but she wanted all of it. Just for this moment. She wanted to feel like they could have a future together, at least beyond today.
Why did he
have to be all wrong and yet so perfect?
He lowered himself over her, so close now she thought he’d kiss her, but he only watched her as his hips began to rock gently against her so slowly that she struggled beneath him. He caught her wrists and held them, one-handed, over her head, supporting his weight with his forearm. She shoved her heels against the side of the rock, thrusting to meet him, forcing him deeper, harder, faster. He pinned her down with his hips, his cock so deep it made her choke on her breath. Her eyes rolled back, fell closed.
“Look at me,” he growled, insistently.
But her eyelids didn’t want to cooperate.
“Look at me or I’ll pull out.”
No!
She forced her lids open, struggling to focus on his face as her pussy quivered and twitched, threatening monumental orgasm.
“But I’m trying not to come.” She whimpered.
His body cautiously stroked into hers, barely moving, as though he were afraid of hurting her.
He groaned. “Shh. Me too, princess.” His lips came down on hers and he kissed her for a long while, his cock pulsing inside her, his every breath labored.
Unable to stop it, her pussy spasmed around him, but the orgasm had been ruined. She cried out in frustration, the thin wail pathetic, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to come so bad.
Jaw clenched against the onslaught of her body’s reactions, Luke was back in control.
“That was close, you little monster.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” she objected, far too aware of how perfectly they fit together, and afraid he’d pull out and punish her again.
He pushed in harder, giving her just a little more cock than her body could comfortably take. She whimpered and he pulled out slightly, then he bit her lip just hard enough to hurt.
“My balls are so fucking blue right now.”
“I could kiss them better, if you like.” She squirmed beneath him, and he groaned.
“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good girl now?”
Fueling His Hunger Page 17
