He chuckled as if he’d read the thought on her face. He tugged lightly at her hair, urging her head back. “I’ll improvise. Go find me something soft. Something I can use to tie your wrists.”
Her legs would barely carry her to the bureau across the bedroom, and she had to brace herself when she got there. There were silk scarves in the top drawer, but she bent at the waist and reached for the bottom drawer. Inside lay a coiled length of velvet cord, the belt to one of her fussier dressing gowns.
Behind her she heard a soft growl. “That’s not playing fair, is it?”
She didn’t straighten, just looked back at him as she gathered the black velvet in one hand. “Is teasing you against the rules? I should have asked.”
He pointed to the head of the bed. “Come back here and find out.”
The steps which took her back to the bed were steadier, more eager. The cord hit the quilt beside Thomas, and she stretched out on the bed, her hands above her head.
One dark eyebrow swept up. “Uh-uh, Lottie. If you’re going to tease me with your ass, I want to look at it. Turn over.”
Her heart pounding with anticipation and lust, Lottie obeyed. “On my stomach or my knees?”
“Knees, I think.” The bed shifted, and she heard his feet hit the floor. “As long as you can stay upright, that is.”
She fidgeted impatiently, her pussy already wet and sensitive. “That probably won’t be long once you stop looking and start touching.”
Strong fingers brushed against the small of her back and traced up her spine. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
Lottie’s back arched, an instinctive motion that spoke of submission and desire. Her hands tightened around the wrought iron of the headboard, and a low noise of need escaped her. “Please, Thomas.”
The soft cord tickled her side as he drew it up her body. “I think I’ll just tie your hands together, not to the bed.” He wrapped the velvet around her wrists. “You keep ahold of that headboard as long as you can, sweetheart.”
“All right.” Her knuckles turned white, and shuddered as she fantasized about being at his mercy, his strong hands on her body. Then it hit her -- the time for imagining Thomas touching her was over. He was here.
She almost sagged to the bed then. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long I can’t quite believe it’s happening.”
He tied off the knot and she felt the brush of his lips over the back of her shoulder. “You’re not the only one. The things I want to do to you, that I’ve imagined doing to you…” The slightest hint of teeth scraped against her skin before his mouth shifted to the top of her spine. “You have no idea, Lottie. No damn idea.”
“I might.” Her skin felt tight, and she shuddered again. “I could tell you, if you wanted. My fantasies. What I dreamt about.”
“Tell me.” More kisses, following the arch of her back, before he paused and reached under her to cup her breasts. “Tell me everything.”
“I imagined you’d be careful. Gentle.” Her nipples hardened under his hands, and she moved into his touch. “Sitting on the bed, so slow, just… rocking together. I pictured that while I made myself come.”
His touches stilled. “Then how did you end up tied to the bed, Lottie?”
She muffled a whimper against the sensitive skin of her inner arm. “Because sometimes I let myself wonder what it could be like if you lost control. If you just took me. And it turned me on even more, Thomas, thinking you could feel that for me.”
“I do.” He shifted his fingers and caught both nipples, pinching them hard. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from moaning. “But I’m not going to lose control, Lottie. Not yet. Because in my fantasies you’re the one begging and whimpering.”
She’d do anything, as long as he didn’t stop. “Tell me about them. What did I do?”
His mouth opened again, this time on the back of her shoulder, and he bit her. The gesture was unrestrained, almost rough, but the words that followed were anything but. “You let me love you until we both collapsed.”
If he hadn’t had his hands around her, she would have dropped to the bed. “I let you? It doesn’t sound like I participated much.”
“Sure you did.” He spoke the word against the back of her neck as he lifted a hand to swipe her hair out of the way. “You moaned, and writhed, and came so many times I lost count, and by the time I sheathed my cock in your body, I was so hard from watching you that I thought it might kill me.”
There wasn’t time to stifle her whimper this time, and she rocked under his mouth. “Thomas, please. Please. Touch me, or let me touch you.”
Thomas planted both of his hands on her shoulders and stroked along her sides as he sat back. For several moments she felt nothing but the slightest brush of fingertips on her hips. Then even that disappeared.
He waited. He waited until she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, then smiled with a feral pleasure that set her heart to racing and watched her face as he slid his fingers between her legs and finally touched her.
Lottie bit her lip again, and her hands slid down the headboard as pleasure exploded in her. The teasing and talking had left her aching. “It’s too much.”
“It should be.” He traced a lazy circle around her clit and watched her face as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful in the world. “When you’ve wanted something for this long, it should be too much.”
“It was too much before you touched me,” she choked, shivering. “Now it’s just -- just torture.”
“So tell me.” His hand shifted to rest on her hip, and the blunt head of his cock teased against her. “Tell me to fuck you, Charlotte. To take you.”
She needed it. She needed him. “Take me.” Her voice faltered at first and then gained strength, fueled by need. “Fuck me, Thomas. Please. Fuck me.”
It wasn’t gentle. His hands curled around her waist and he thrust into her, the angle sharp and unyielding. His loud groan filled the room as his hips settled against her ass. “Fuck, Lottie.”
She wanted to scream, but all she could do was suck in one ragged, desperate breath and moan his name. He’d been inside her only hours earlier, but she’d somehow forgotten the sheer, sweet shock of having his cock stretch her. “God. Oh…”
“Yes.” He ground against her, circling his hips with a patience belied by the way his hands spasmed on her hips. “You are so perfect. So fucking good…”
Lottie’s elbows dug into the bed as she pushed back, wanting more. “There’s nothing I don’t want. Everything, honey. Everything you can give me.”
One hand crept up her back to twine in her hair. “Even this?” he demanded, his voice gone suddenly hoarse. “Even if I let go of everything?”
“I want you to take me, Thomas.” A shudder ran through her at the mere thought, and she hovered on the edge of control, ready to tip over. “Please. I need it.”
A growl tore free of him and power rushed through the room, almost distracting her from his next thrust. Almost.
He took her with hard, claiming thrusts, each one a statement of need. Pleasure mounted quickly, a rising wave of desire that multiplied with every plunge, every groan. She felt his need in the depth of his possession, and everything she’d been holding back exploded in a hot rush that bowed her back and made her scream.
Thomas’ hand crashed to the bed next to hers as he covered her back with his chest. The other hand curved around her body to find her clit. His movements were jerky, almost uncoordinated, just like the short hard thrusts that pushed her higher. “Don’t stop.” He snarled the words against the back of her shoulder, and a moment later she felt the sharp sting of his teeth.
Lottie could only dig her fingers into the quilt and whimper helplessly as she came again. She’d never felt anything like the maddening combination of arousal and release that gripped her. She needed him again, still, even as a third orgasm took her.
His body stiffened above her as a tortured groan escaped him. He thrust
into her once more and froze, and her name escaped him in a hoarse, rasping whisper.
They rocked for a few moments, but Lottie’s legs wouldn’t hold her. She collapsed to the bed, struggling for the breath to speak as aftershocks rippled through her. Eventually she gave up and rested her cheek on her arm, relishing the hard press of Thomas’ body on hers.
He moaned softly and lifted his body before rolling off of her. A moment later his hands closed around her hips and dragged her with him, leaving her draped across his chest. “Hands,” he murmured as his fingers traced up her arms. “Have to untie your hands.”
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his shoulder as he unraveled the knots binding her wrists. “The fire in the stove probably died. Dinner will be cold.”
“I’ll survive a few hours without food.” The cord fell away, and she heard the rustling of her quilts before a warm blanket settled over her back. “Rest. We should rest.”
“Thomas.” There were too many things to say, and sleep was already pulling her under. She curled one hand under his shoulder and stroked his chest with the other. “I’m very glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Lottie.” His hands settled on her back, strong and warm. “Me too.”
The griddle hissed as Lottie poured out the batter for another round of pancakes. “I want to warm some preserves. Can you choose a jar from the cupboard, please?”
“Of course.” The kitchen was warm enough that Thomas felt comfortable in just his trousers, and even more thankfully warm enough that Lottie hadn’t seen fit to dress in anything more substantial than a short, thin cotton robe.
The small cabinet beside the pantry held rows of glass jars, each one carefully labeled and sealed. He ran his fingers along the shelf until he came to one marked “cherry” and smiled as he pulled it from the shelf. “I remember when Hazel was fifteen and you tried to teach her how to make preserves the first time. I’m not sure what that resulting mess was, but she was so damn proud of herself I ate it anyway.” And it had been worth it to see the look on Hazel’s young face, to see her pleasure in having Lottie give her the attention her mother never had.
“Come, now,” Lottie chided with a broad grin. “I liked you too much not to make sure they were palatable first.”
“You weren’t so careful with her first experiments in baking as I recall. The girl very nearly put me off pie for good.” Seeing the same warmth in her eyes that he felt for Hazel tugged at something inside him, something interested in more than just a night in Lottie’s bed. “We raised her all right between the two of us, though, no thanks to Ginny.”
Lottie crossed the room and took the jar from his hand with another small smile. “Yes. She turned out all right, in spite of Ginny’s corrupting influence.”
Thomas reached out to catch her hand and tugged her closer. “It’s been a little bit like torture, you know. Raising Hazel with you like she was our damn child, even though I’d never gotten to have you.”
The humor faded from her clear green eyes, replaced by satisfaction and desire. “You’ve had me now.”
“Not the kind of having I was talking about, Lottie.”
“Oh.” Her head fell back, and her unbound hair slipped off her shoulders and bared her throat. “And do you still want me?” The light, teasing tone of her voice was underscored by nervousness, and her hand trembled in his.
Marks in the shape of his teeth had risen while they slept. Thomas lifted his hand and brushed his thumb lightly over one small bruise. “That’s a foolish question.”
Lottie wrapped her arms around his neck and rose on her toes to kiss his chin. “Marry me, then.”
He’d never done anything impulsive in his life. The proof of that fact was standing in front of him, staring up at him with huge, gorgeous eyes. If he’d had an impulsive bone in his body he would have found a way to claim her years ago. He could have been living with her, raising Hazel with her. Raising our children with her…
If there had ever been an argument in favor of impulsive behavior, Charlotte was it. So he caught her lips in a blazing kiss before pulling back to smile. “Yes. Absolutely. Tomorrow, if I could.”
“Mm-hmm.” An amused smile curved her lips. “And why can’t you?”
He didn’t want to introduce reality into their perfect moment, but there was no other way to answer the question. “I have to ask Jack to take over dealing with the other business owners in town. Their complaints may be foolish, but it’ll cause chaos if I agree to look into it and marry you the next day.”
“Of course.” Lottie began trailing kisses along his jaw. “Fairness is important. Objectivity, too.”
Thomas closed his eyes and gave in to a rush of pleasure at her soft touches. “Not thinking I’m terribly objective at the moment.”
“Jack can be objective.” She smiled against his jaw and licked his earlobe. “You can be mad with desire for me.”
He’d taken her twice in less than twenty-four hours. A third time shouldn’t be so appealing, but his cock still stirred as her breath fell against his ear. “You’re not going to be able to sit down for a day or walk straight for a week if we keep this up.”
“I’m resilient, honey.” She slipped one leg between his and ground against his thigh with a soft moan. “And we have a lot of lost nights to make up for.”
Thomas stopped fighting. His hand traced the curve of her body as he moved it down her side, then around to clutch her ass. “Are you looking to sample a variety of furniture, then? We’ve tried your bed and your desk so far.”
She slipped her fingertips into the waist of his trousers and backed up until his knuckles brushed the smooth wood of the kitchen table behind her. “We’ll have to go room by room, I think. It’s the only orderly system.” Her robe gaped open, revealing the smooth curve of her breast.
“A table is an awful lot like a desk, though.” He tightened his fingers on her hips and spun her around until she faced the counter. “Standing up might be an interesting diversion though. Maybe leaning over the counter…”
The look she cast him over her shoulder was equal parts arousal and humor. “I was also leaning over my desk.”
“Good point.” He turned her again, this time hefting her up and dropping her on the counter. “Better?”
She laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Much.”
There was a lot to be said for the position, like the fact that it gave him ample opportunity to trace his fingers teasingly up her arms while grinding his hips against hers. “What about the food? I think there are pancakes in danger of burning not very far from us.”
Lottie glanced at the stove and arched her hips to meet his. “We’ll use this batch as coasters and make more. Or just sleep the rest of the night and wait for --” Her words cut off suddenly, and she straightened with a look of alarm. “Do you smell smoke?”
He jerked his gaze back to the stove, afraid for a moment that the pancakes were already burning. One glance was enough to prove it wasn’t the case. He stepped back and turned toward the door. “Is it coming from outside?”
“It smells like…” Lottie pushed at his shoulders and jumped off the counter, her eyes wide and alarmed. “It smells like a house fire, Thomas.”
Thomas was already going for his boots. “If you’re coming with me, drag your food off the stove so your house doesn’t burn down.”
She hurried to do so and then rushed into the hallway to snatch up her coat. “It could be nothing. It’s probably nothing.”
He wanted to believe her, but it didn’t feel like nothing. Something inside him knew the truth even as he pulled his jacket on over his bare chest. “Maybe not. But it’s my job to make sure.”
Lottie yanked the front door open. “I know, honey. And I’m here to --” The words choked off as she looked out the door and down the street. “It’s near -- near the saloon. Oh God.”
Every instinct he had screamed to shove Lottie back in her house and leave her there. If it wa
s her business on fire, it wasn’t an accident. It was a threat, an attempt to hurt her, and he needed to know she was safe.
Just like she needed to know her people were safe. He cursed softly and then held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Four
The Full Moon Saloon was burning.
Though Thomas held her hand, Lottie stumbled down the street toward the building. The rising flames illuminated the night, and she easily recognized the soot-stained faces of the women outside. She found herself counting them as she ran, taking a mental inventory of who was accounted for.
And who wasn’t.
Thomas stopped only once, to snag a scared looking young werewolf who was watching the building burn with wide, shocked eyes. Thomas gave the boy a sharp shake and power flowed out from him, strong but steady. “Calvin, go fetch Jack and Ginny. Now.”
The boy took off at a run.
Lottie caught sight of a tall brunette in the street. “Nancy!” She grasped the woman’s shoulders and met her eyes. “Nancy, did everyone get out?”
“I don’t --” Nancy’s words cut off in a cough, her thin shoulders shaking under the force of it. Thomas steadied her, and after a moment she straightened again and gasped out one name. “Sarabeth.”
Lottie looked around frantically, her heart pounding. “Cora, come help Nancy. Hurry. I have to go inside.”
“Lottie.” Thomas waited until Cora had taken Nancy, then caught her shoulders. “Let me go in. Someone needs to make sure everyone’s okay, and they trust you.”
“Cora and Shorty can take care of it.” Something gave in the structure of the saloon, and a shower of sparks flew up amidst gasps and shouts. Terror streaked through her, and she took a deep, bracing breath. “Thomas, I can’t stay out here. Not if someone is still in there. I won’t!”
He bit off a snarl and started toward the building, his fingers tight around her arm. “Fine, but I swear by all that’s holy, Charlotte, if you get hurt I will yell at you for a month straight.”
Down & Dirty (Bundle) Page 16
