“Even when I do this?” He sucked on the skin beneath her ear, and stroked the tip of his tongue upwards over and over.
“Mmm…” She pressed her forehead to his shoulder and clung to him. Her hips rolled around. His hardness pressed into her leg, indicating his readiness for her. He would feel so damn good inside her, she knew. But he needed to rest, he did, really he did…
But maybe one fuck wouldn’t do any harm. If she was quick and took control. She could make him come quickly, she was sure. And it would feel so good to have him inside her. So damn good.
“I love you, baby,” she murmured. “I want to make love to you so much, I really do, but-”
He grabbed her buttocks—with both hands this time—and spun her round until she fell back onto the bed. He was careful to slow her fall. The last thing they needed was an unexpected birth on their wedding night. She laughed out loud at his antics. Elliott never let a little thing like debilitating injuries slow him down.
“But you need to rest,” she protested.
“I do?” He bent to kiss her neck again. Heat flushed her neck, her chest, and her pelvis. His erection was hot against her leg. It would feel so good, she knew. And it would be so easy to slip inside… Her lower body warmed at the thought of him sliding his hardness into her. Suddenly, she needed him. She needed to make love to him.
“Okay, baby, okay. You win,” she said softly. “Your devious plan has worked.” Her hand reached up to stroke his face.
“It did? That was easier than I thought it would be.”
“But we do this my way, okay? No exhausting antics—until after the reception,” she added as he started to protest.
“Sure, babe.” He caught her hand and kissed it. “Whatever you say. I know you’re only taking care of me.”
“You big, dumb bear. Lie back on the bed and let me take care of you properly.”
Still reluctant to hand over control, Elliott obeyed, shuffling back from the edge of the bed. Avery rose up onto her knees and towered over him until he was settled. The skirt of her large wedding dress—her mother’s choice— covered half the bed, it seemed. She lifted it out of the way as she straddled him, then let it settle back onto the bed, hiding his lower body. Her hips rocked, rubbing her increasingly-hungry pussy against the front of his pants.
“How’s that baby?”
Instead of answering, he reached down, fighting past the layers of wedding dress, and stroked her pussy with his thumb.
“No panties?”
“Not today. I decided to go commando.”
“Commando?” he laughed.
“Unzip that monster and I’ll show you what I can do with it.”
He did as he was told, and was treated to the exquisite sensation of wet, slippery lips sliding back and forward along his hard shaft.
“Oh, wow.”
“How’s that for starters?”
“Perfect. More, please.” He grinned up at her. She titled her hips, rubbing along his full length, coating him with her juices.
“Oh, boy…” she groaned. “Oh, boy, that’s the spot, right there.”
“You having fun without me?”
“Having fun… with you,” she groaned. “Oh, wow…” She pressed her clit against his slippery cock and rubbed herself back and forward along his shaft.
“That feels so damn good.”
“Uh-huh…” she murmured. Her eyes were fixed on his face.
“And the best thing is, I’m not exhausting myself, just as you wanted.”
“You’re… loving… this…”
“Damn straight.” He reached up and pulled down the bodice of the dress, freeing her breasts. He caressed one, stroking the nipple with his thumb, and she squeezed the other, gripping it roughly. Her lips pressed together as she moaned and squeaked her way to a shivering, gentle climax.
“Oh, fuck, holy shit!” Her mouth fell open and she gasped in air.
“That’s the way, baby. You have fun.”
“Oh? You… not having… fun?”
“I’m loving this.”
“So how about we take it to the next level, Marine?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
“Oh, I can feel you’re ready.” She slid forward along his length until the tip slid past her clit, then arched her back. With a twitch of his muscles, and a wriggle of her hips, he slid into position, and Avery bore down on him.
“Oh, baby…” she cried. She pressed her lips together as he slid deeper, filling her passage with masculine heat.
“You’re so tight around me.”
“And you’re so hard for me.”
“I love you, Avery.”
“I love you, Elliott. You’ve made me… the happiest woman… in the world.”
She began to ride him, rising up and down on his length, relishing the wet noises their coupled bodies made. Elliott tried—once—to lift up her dress so he could see the action, but there was too much fabric. The dress defeated him, so instead, he concentrated on caressing Avery’s breasts, teasing the swollen nipples until she cried out.
As they made love, cries of ecstasy reached them through the wall, and they grinned at each other. Alice and Manny were hard at it in the next suite, enjoying each other as much as they could.
“I wonder what else he can do with that new arm,” Avery said.
“The hand is detachable,” Elliott confirmed. “And can be replaced with other devices. Battery powered ones, he tells me.”
“Oh, my God, wouldn’t that be great?”
“I could ask him to show you, if you like.”
She slapped his arm. “Don’t you dare!”
He laughed, then groaned as they resumed loving, with Avery moving faster on him as her nearby friend cried out her ecstasy.
“Oh, yeah, baby. Like that,” he groaned.
“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna cum inside me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I want to feel you cum inside me, baby. I want to make you cum so much.”
“Uh-huh. Keep doing that.”
“This?” She rolled her hips as she bounced up and down.
“Oh, yeah. That. Fuck, yesss…” His hips lifted as his climax hit. He dropped his hands from her breasts and caught her wrists, squeezing hard as his entire body tensed. Avery chuckled as liquid heat filled her, warming her passage and pushing her closer to her second orgasm.
“Oh, yeah, oh, yeah…” She squeezed her breast hard and thrust her hips back and forward. Mixed fluids coated her lips and his shaft, filling the room with wet noises.
“Fuck, yes, fuck, yes. Oh, my God, that’s it right there. Oh fuck!” She shuddered to a halt, bucking her hips against him. Her breathing was deep, and fast; her eyes fluttered and her mouth hung open. He rocked his hips, but she laughed and shook her head.
“No more?”
“Not yet, baby. Not right now not yet no, no, no, please…” She began to fold over and collapse onto him, but he caught her shoulders and held her upright.
“Careful, lover. Not with the baby on board.”
“No, no, course not. Whew!” She ran both hands back through her hair and blew air up past her nose.
“You were amazing,” he said.
“I love you so much.”
“Did you have fun?”
“I did. It was good for your legs, and good for the baby.”
“It was good for all of me.” He grinned.
“Well, one part in particular.” She flexed her inner muscles and squeezed him tightly.
He groaned. “More?”
“Later, baby. Later. I gotta go clean up—before the dress is ruined.” She gathered the skirt as best she could and rose up. He slid out of her, to land with a wet slap. She shivered with delight at the sensation, then climbed off.
“Sounds like they’ve finished next door, too.”
“Nope,” Avery said. “They’re in between.” As she spoke, new cries rose, accompanied by loud slaps and a rhythmic knocking sound
.
“Marriage made in heaven?” Elliott asked.
“Definitely. ‘Scuse me.” Avery hurried off to the bathroom, clutching the layers of wedding dress. Elliott relaxed on the bed, slipping his hands behind his head and considering what a lucky guy he was.
He only had a moment to relax, however, before a cry from the bathroom made him sit up.
“Baby?” Avery cried. “I think we’re gonna need a midwife.”
“When?”
“Right about now!”
THE END
Another bonus story is on the next page.
Bonus Story 20 of 44
Shifters Mountain
I checked the carabiner’s snap gate for the fifth time before I admitted I was procrastinating—and scared.
“If you’re not going to do this, why bother flying out here at all?” I muttered. “You could have stayed at home, walked the dog, or played tennis, anything but risking your life on a snow-covered mountain.” Light snow drifted down from above, kicked down by my impatient climbing buddy.
“Hey, April!” he called, “you asleep down there?”
“Coming, Sonny,” I shouted back. “Dammit…” I muttered. I hated people seeing my fear and I was determined to move on up to reach the summit before noon tomorrow. If we didn’t, it was likely we’d be called off the mountain. Rising temperatures made for hazardous climbing and the PGHM, the mountain police, were considering closing the Gouter Route if the day grew any warmer.
“April!”
“Coming!” I snapped. I glanced down the Grand Couloir, immediately wished I hadn’t, and then turned my attention to the remainder of the climb. Two of our party had already reached the ridge, the Refuge du Gouter, and were monitoring the rising temperature. If I held them up any longer, I’d be responsible for wasting everyone’s week. Drinking beer in Chamonix was a poor substitute for gazing out from the summit of Mont Blanc.
And so, I committed myself, swinging out from the laughably small ledge I’d found, and digging in my toes as I pushed upward.
It was terrifying, but also the biggest thrill of my life. Office work was a way to bring in the beans. This was living, and nothing compared, or would ever compare to this: the soul-chilling confrontation of nature at her most unforgiving. Knowing that a single mistake or a moment’s lack of concentration could end my life was the most sobering thing I had ever felt. People called me crazy for risking my life, but doing exactly that was what made me who I was. If I wasn’t in danger, what was the point of being alive?
I focused on the task at hand, and, with shouts of encouragement from my buddies, I made good time, almost making up for my poor showing earlier.
Within two hours, we were heading along the Refuge du Gouter, enjoying the sunshine but worrying about what the warmth might do to the stability of the packed snow beneath our feet.
“It’s enough to make you wish for a snowstorm,” Sonny called back to me.
“That might make things worse,” I shouted back.
“And we’d lose the scenery.”
“Will you guys can it?” Ray called from behind me. “The last thing we need is an avalanche.”
“Avalanches don’t—” I began, but Sonny had stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Hey!” he called to the team ahead. They stopped and turned, raising their arms to ask why he’d called a halt.
“Everything okay?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know… Something feels…” he shifted his feet, testing the snow for something. I waited patiently, trusting Sonny, who had ten years’ more experience than me.
It didn’t help him much. The entire snowfield, from a kilometre ahead to the edge of the ridge, was shifting. The snow vibrated beneath my feet—exactly what Sonny had feared and had been feeling for. All five of us toppled as the snowfield picked up speed, carrying us along with it. The PGHM had been correct in its assumptions. The mountain was unstable, and now we were caught up in the shift.
I cried out as the flat snow started to break up into jagged sheets, the leading edges rising above the sheets below them. Five feet ahead, a wall of white rose into the air, towering over me. If it broke up, or slid over the top of the sheet I was clinging to…
I could only pray that it didn’t.
The ice slammed against my body as it slithered down the mountain, gaining speed rapidly. I was riding ten tons of rapidly crumbling bobsled, with no control, and no idea which way I was headed. The sheer drop of the Grand Couloir wasn’t far away, behind me and off to my right. I’d never survive the drop.
Something smashed into the floe I was riding, and I was spun to the right, to face the steep drop, exactly as I’d feared. Within seconds, I was going to be plunged over the edge. The fall would no doubt kill me, and the hundred tons of snow that followed would ensure I wouldn’t be found until September. I was ten feet from the edge of the speeding floe. I could either take my chances with the avalanche or face the thousand-foot drop plus the avalanche that would land on my head.
It was a no-brainer. As quickly as my numbed fingers and spiked boots would allow, I crawled to the edge of the ice, glanced once at the tons of snow thundering down after me, and then threw myself into its path, hoping for a miracle.
Five seconds later, my makeshift bobsled vanished over the edge of the Refuge du Gouter and I was engulfed, sent tumbling into a crushing nightmare of dazzling whiteness.
~
“Faites atention…” a man said in a soft voice.
“Ow…” I managed. Every joint and muscle burned or stabbed me with white-hot needles. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why had I tried to move? Groaning, I laid back down and concentrated on breathing until the worst of the pain began to fade.
“Vous avez ete blesse.”
“What…what…” My foggy brain couldn’t translate his French. “I don’t understand. Ah… Je ne comprends pas?”
He switched to English, with a soft accent. “Don’t try to talk. You’ve been through…ah…traumatise…You will need time to recover.” When I’d tried to move, my leg had hurt terribly. Hot waves of pain washed up my thigh, and I squirmed as my skin burned.
“I don’t…hey, that hurt!”
“I apologize.” He withdrew the needle from my bare shoulder, then laid the syringe in a stainless steel dish. But if I’d entertained any thought of being in a hospital, I was sorely mistaken. Yes, the bed in which I lay was steel-framed, and was raised to support my back, but that was where any similarity ended. The room was small, and dimly lit. The walls were of typical Alpine chalet construction, thick horizontal planks of varnished wood. All of which made the needle-jabbing more alarming. Why was I in a strange bed, being attended to by a man I’d never seen before?
And why was I naked?
“My clothes!” I snapped. “Where are they?”
He smiled tolerantly. “Your ski suit was destroyed by the fall. The blood soaked everything below the waist, and the bone break tore through your thermal underwear.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry. But I have your shirt, and your brassiere.”
“Where?” I suddenly felt chilled without my clothes. Yes, I was in a warm bed, but I felt vulnerable, and trapped. Without clothes, I had no way to escape this stranger.
Another thought struck me. “Did you undress me?”
“Of course.” He made an ‘I suppose so’ face, pushing down both lips. “But you should not be concerned.”
“Really?”
“It was your leg which was injured. Your dignity was not.”
“You undressed me!”
“Your ski suit I cut away.” He mimed scissors with two fingers. “Your leg I treated.” He pushed himself to his feet with a weary sigh. “The rest of your clothes were removed for your comfort, and…” he raised a single finger to silence my next protest. “…it was done with no lights.”
“You undressed me in the dark?”
“Does it not make you feel less…um…viole? Violated?”
&
nbsp; “Maybe,” I conceded. “But how do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You don’t.” He surprised me with his simple reply. “You must learn to trust me. Here.” He handed me my t-shirt and bra. I pulled the blankets up to my neck and dressed as best I could. “These also.” He held up a pair of dark blue sweatpants. They were probably two sizes too big.
“You will need the extra room,” he explained. “For the bandages, yes?”
I sighed. “Yes, that makes sense.” As we’d talked, the sharp sting of pain had faded from my leg. I didn’t move, for fear of setting it off again, but I was desperately keen to put a layer of clothing between my lower body and the man, who still hadn’t introduced himself.
“Are you a doctor?” I asked.
“I was. A long time ago.”
“And where is this place?” I glanced around the small room. “Where am I?”
“A secluded chalet, on my land.”
I frowned. “How secluded, exactly?”
“You need not feel threatened, Mademoiselle. It is secluded, not for the purposes of seduction, but for solitude.”
“You don’t enjoy company?”
His smile was sad, wistful. “Shall we say…company does not enjoy me?”
“Hmm…okay.” An urgent need alerted me to a new problem. “I need to use the bathroom.” Damn. Of all the times…
He stroked his chin. “You should not need…ah, I see. The bag is full.”
“What bag? Oh, no…” I gazed in dismay at the urine-filled bag hanging from the side of the bed. A catheter bag. I reached down, and sure enough, a small plastic tube lay between my legs. I sagged back onto the bed in dismay. So much for my dignity.
“Now you are awake, I can remove this. But with your leg still damaged, you may find difficulty—”
“Take the damn thing out!”
“Should I switch off the lights?”
I rolled my eyes. “What’s the point? You didn’t switch them off to fit it, did you?”
“Of course not. It would have been dangerous.”
I threw an arm over my eyes. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
“If you are certain.” He moved closer, pulling on a pair of protective gloves. The blankets were lifted from my lower half and I groaned as cool air touched my most intimate parts.
Inextinguishable Love: Firefighter and Interracial Romance Page 63
