Great Dane (Sensuous Seasonings)

by Brice, Dee

  “Yes.” He took advantage of her nearness and slid his arm around her slender waist. Her velour robe felt a little damp, as if she’d hurried to return to him.

  “Dane.” Her reflection showed him the tip of her tongue, her concentration intense. “Are you sure you want to do this? Here?”

  “Yes.” He hadn’t been so sure of anything since the night he took her virginity. If her bedroom haunted her, he wanted to fill his bedroom, this house, with more ghostly memories. With newer, happier hauntings.

  In the window, their reflections stared at each other for an endless moment. To Dane it felt like an eternity. But finally, sighing, she reached for the belt that held her robe closed. His hand over hers stopped her, like headlights would stop a deer or other animal in the middle of the road. She looked that frightened.

  “I want to do that myself.”

  “Then do it! Let’s…”

  “Get this over with?” he suggested, his voice laced with irony. “Are you going to claim you have a headache?”

  “I don’t have a— I just thought—”

  “We’d get it over with quickly? No, Jen, I have no intention of rushing. After all, exorcisms take time.”

  He led her to the loveseat then—with a light pressure on her shoulders—urged her to sit. He went to the stone fireplace, lighting the kindling and logs he’d placed there yesterday.

  “It gets cold up here at night,” he explained.

  “It might stay warmer if you closed the drapes.”

  “Not gonna happen, Jen. Nobody can see in. And besides, the windows are double paned.”

  “How energy conscious of you,” she drawled, an edge of nervousness in her voice.

  When he sat beside her, her body tensed like she wanted to run. Her deep sigh lifted her breasts. He noticed her nipples pearling, poking the soft fabric of her robe. The room was cool not cold, giving him hope she was feeling more comfortable with him. Comfortable, hell. He wanted her as aroused as he was. But he used her shiver to his advantage, circling her shoulders and drawing her near.

  Another deep sigh escaped her. Then she relaxed against him, her head on his shoulder. Toying with the silky curls around her ear, he brushed them back to stroke the shell. She giggled and snuggled closer, her breath warm on his neck. Her hand slid up his chest. Slender fingers unfastened the buttons on his polo shirt. Catching her hand as it eased toward his waist, he pressed a kiss in her palm then licked it.

  “Dane,” she protested, a breathy catch in her voice.

  Tilting her chin, he whispered against her lips, “Jen.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “In a minute.” Easing her away, standing, he quickly shucked his clothes. Her soft gasp brought his half-erect cock to full attention. Her hand shot out, gently grasped his cock and used it as a handle to draw him down.

  “I’d forgotten how…” She licked her lips as if she already had his cum on them. His cock pulsed. “How big you are.”

  “Yeah well… You know what they say.”

  Sliding her fingers up and down his shaft, she smiled at him. “No, what do they say?”

  “Something about anything more than a cunt-full is wasted.” He pulled her onto his lap and spread her legs so she straddled him. He could feel her heat, her juices seeping over his cock. He groaned and fought against driving into that moist warmth. Untying her belt, he eased the robe off her shoulders and cupped her breasts. Her rigid nipples poked his palms, reminding him of all the times he’d petted them and brought her to climax without—he reminded himself now—touching her anywhere else. Was she still that responsive? His fingers circling her areolas with those feathery touches that used to drive her wild, he watched her dark eyes glaze and turn black. Yeah, she’s still that responsive.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded, opening his mouth and sucking her darting tongue into it. His cock captured between her swollen nether lips, his hips and hers matched the thrust and parry of their tongues. His fingers continued their tender assault on her nipples.

  “God, Dane!” she moaned into his mouth, her hips pumping faster, harder. “Too…soon. I…never come…this soon.”

  “Sweet liar. For me you always come this soon.”

  She glared at him, but her body betrayed her. Still cradled between her nether lips, his cock felt her spasms build and her juices flow over it.

  “Come for me, Jen. Come for me now!”

  “I am, damn it. Oh Christ, Dane!”

  She writhed. Her head tossed from side to side. Her body sheened with perspiration and her panting breaths puffed over his face. Her climax tore through her until—crying his name—she collapsed against him.

  “Put your arms around me,” he said. Like a limpet, she clung to his neck as he stood, her legs clamped around his waist.

  “Where are we going?” Her voice sounded sleepy, but he intended to keep her awake. He knew just how.

  “To breakfast,” he said, laying her on the wide bed then stretching out beside her.

  “Hmmm. I’m starving.”

  “You won’t be eating just yet.”

  Opening one very dark eye, she peered up at him. “Me? I mean I won’t be eating? Then who…”

  “Me. I’m going to feast. On you.”

  Chapter Four

  “Don’t move.”

  He sounded so stern, Jen could only nod. When he left the bed, however, her gaze followed him. She drank in the lines of his muscular shoulders and back. His slim waist and flexing buttocks. She’d always admired his ass, those perfect handfuls she could grab and hold on to when he drove into her pussy and she lost her mind. Every sensation coalesced in her pussy, focused on his cock and reaching that pinnacle only he could bring her to.

  He paced toward her, his cock at half-mast. As she stared, it twitched, making her want to nuzzle her face into the dark curls surrounding it. Smell its musk. Stroke it, suck it, lick it until he lost all control and either came in her mouth or took her. Hard. Fast. Wild.

  Breathless and needy, she looked into his eyes and saw her own lust flung back at her. He smiled, a feral baring of white teeth and intense determination. If she ran…if she could find the strength to make her body obey her mind…she couldn’t escape him. She didn’t want to.

  He looked at his hands and she notice he carried a small silver tray. At its center, a bowl emitted the faint aroma of tarragon.

  “I remember you don’t care much for hollandaise,” he said, putting the tray on the nightstand. “But you do like béarnaise.”

  Her gaze fell to his cock, then returned to his face. “I like it best on sizzling meat.”

  Ignoring the bawdy remark, he settled on the bed, his muscular thigh within her reach. Not knowing if he would allow her to touch him, she put her hand on that tempting skin. Her palm burned, his flesh was so hot. Rubbing lightly, she made curls of the short, silky hairs and remembered how his hairy legs felt when he captured her legs between his own or used them to spread her wide.

  “I told you, I’m not letting you eat just yet.”

  “Then why prepare my favorite sauce?”

  “To see if I like it better on you.”

  Using his fingers, he scooped a glob of sauce from the bowl, muttering, “Where to start? Where to start? You have a preference, Jen?”

  My pussy. She caught his smile. The damn man could still read her mind.

  A shiver of anticipation coursed through her body. Her first fiancé lacked the experience to successfully use cunniligus in his lovemaking and she’d been too shy to tell him what pleased her. Her older lover acted as if the very idea repulsed him and, after her first attempt at fellacio, she’d given up the whole idea. But now… Dane’s clever tongue lapping at long neglected, highly arousing spots all over her body drove rational thought from her mind. All she could think about was the sensation of his tongue on her clit, his lips sucking it like she sucked his cock. She wanted his tongue, his lips on her. Right now! But the damn man seemed determined to torture her.

 
He rubbed a dollop of béarnaise on her stomach, then spread it. His tongue tickled the edge of her bellybutton. Laughing, she pushed on his head, urging him down so she could have him where she ached to have him. He blew a raspberry on her stomach and she laughed even harder.

  “Stop it, Jen. You can’t make me hurry.” As if to prove his point, he glided up her body and nibbled her earlobe. “You still like that, don’t you.”

  She nodded, a soft moan escaping her lips. When he nuzzled the tender spot behind her ear, her moans sounded like distant thunder. Tilting her head, she savored the touch of his lips and tongue on her neck.

  “Da-ane.”

  “Shhh. I’m grazing. If you keep trying to rush me, neither one of us will be content.”

  “Damn it, Dane! Now all I can imagine are cows.”

  “Is that why you nipples are standing up like little udders? Why your breasts are so swollen—”

  “Suck them, Dane. Suck me!”

  Slathering sauce on her nipples, he obliged, using his tongue, his teeth, his lips and hands. Licking, nipping, sucking, squeezing.

  Everywhere he touched sparks flared. Soon, she thought, nearing her flash point and yet unable to reach it. Frustrated, she groaned.

  “You’re trying too hard, Jen. Relax.”

  “Can’t. Want you…in me.”

  “Soon.”

  Feeling him ease up her body, she opened her eyes. Pinned under his powerful frame, she couldn’t move, but she could feel him. He fumbled for something on the headboard. She thought she heard a soft kind of growl, but couldn’t distinguish where it came from or exactly what would cause it.

  “Look up.”

  The vaulted ceiling had vanished, replaced by a canopy of moon and diamond-bright stars. The scent of pines and mountain misery drifted over her. She’d always loved those scents, their mixture saying Home. Safe. Loved. On a deep sigh, her body went limp.

  Dane’s soft chuckle tickled her ear. Shifting her gaze to his face, she said, “Now I know why the soap had no scent. This is a lovely gift, Dane.”

  “You’re welcome.” As if he could read in her eyes all the questions she wanted to ask, he put his fingers over her lips. “Later.”

  His wolf-blue gaze locked with hers, his fingertips brushed her lips. “Soft. Your lips are so soft.” His hand drifted to her chin and his lips—firm yet gentle—covered hers.

  “Hmmm.” Had that lazy, contented sigh come from her? Yes, if Dane’s pleased expression was any indication. She wanted to tell him his arrogance turned her off, but he kissed her again. All she could think about was the way his lips felt. That he tasted like…heaven. She touched his cheek, savoring the hint of stubble. Recalling how that soft-roughness had felt along her inner thighs, she feathered her fingers through his hair. Intending to urge his head down her body to the core of her building need and moist heat, she felt him shake his head. She ached to touch him, but couldn’t move. His eyes seduced her into trembling acquiescence. They promised Nirvana if she would only surrender to his will. She gave in, remembering how he’d induced that same soporific feeling the first time he made love to her. And had given her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. Her eyes drifted closed, but popped open when he bit her earlobe.

  “Ouch!” she complained, although it hadn’t hurt that much. And when his tongue laved the love-bite, it didn’t hurt at all.

  “Look up,” he murmured against her neck. “And keep looking.”

  She obeyed and thought she had fallen into an X-rated movie. She could see two naked bodies on the wide bed. The man’s body was that of an ancient god—sculpted muscles and sleek flesh. Looking down at her, the woman’s face seemed flushed with embarrassed excitement. And as she gaped at her own reflection, she watched his hand coat her torso with béarnaise.

  Dane chuckled. “I knew you’d like it. Now you can see everything I’m doing to you. Watch your eyes glaze when I eat you. See how your body writhes with pleasure while I suck your clit. See as well as feel my cock sliding in and out of your hot, juicy cunt.”

  She groaned, embarrassed and hovering on the edge of climax. She could see the eager fever in the woman’s eyes—her own eyes. The way her legs shifted restlessly on the bedding before one slid between Dane’s powerful thighs. Her breasts swelled and her hips sought to bring him—his rigid cock, his great and glorious flesh—inside her. She wanted everything he promised and more.

  “Please.” Had that plea, so full of longing and unshed tears, come from her? Was that fascinated gaze watching his powerful body ease down her own, her gaze? Were those her hands gliding over his shoulders, her legs parting as his head rubbed her mons?

  “Hold yourself open for me, sweetheart,” he murmured.

  Fingers trembling, her hands obeyed. He eased his sauce-covered fingers inside her pussy. Heaven. Her eyelashes drifted down. For one impossible moment, she thought she saw his tongue dart out. She blinked and when she looked up again all she could see was his dark head between her thighs. Then sensation swamped her. His light stubble rubbing over her clit. His tongue lapping her from clit to channel, channel to clit. Her hips grinding against his face. He moaned encouragement and words her mind barely understood, but her body craved and celebrated.

  “I love how you taste. Better than any sauce.”

  At least she heard taste. And she thought she might have heard quiver and Come for me, Jen.

  Her fingers clenched in his hair, her entire body writhed. “Ohmigod. My god. God, Dane!” Like ocean waves succumbing to the moon’s irresistible pull, her climax ripped through her. Her spasms went on and on, resisted the welcomed intrusion of his cock, then pulled it deep into her still pulsing pussy.

  When he kissed her, she could taste her cum mixed with béarnaise on his lips and tongue. In the mirror overhead, she could see her hands stroke his powerful shoulders. Her fingers trembled down the flexing muscles in his back, found the pumping roundness of his ass and dug in. His hot breath, his groans filled her ears, drowning out the roar of pleasure pounding in her mind. His musky scent mingled with pine, mountain misery and tarragon left their indelible imprint in her nostrils—in her heart and soul.

  “Too soon,” he muttered.

  “Just right,” she countered, breathless, as together they reached their flash point and let the flames devour them.

  Laughing softly, Dane rolled to his side, her body still in his arms. She nuzzled his neck and inhaled. Musk…sex clung to his skin, but she could still smell a hint of the air outside and the tarragon he’d licked from her pussy.

  Just a little longer. If she could stay in his arms just a little while longer, she’d have this memory to cherish for the rest of her life.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered.

  “Don’t.”

  “Do.”

  Her mind still muzzy, she glared up at him, silently daring him to tell her. His belly laugh reminded her that he was still inside her. Feeling his cock twitch and swell, she felt her eyes widen and heated need grip her.

  “You’re thinking we’re done. Done with the past. Done for the night. Done for the rest of our lives—and good riddance.” His intense eyes seemed to pin her to the bed.

  “Wrong. On all counts,” she added before she thought.

  “Good. Because I’m not done with you.”

  The determination in his voice, in his arms tightening around her sent a frisson of excited fear up her spine.

  “Wh-what do you—”

  “I’m going to watch you ride me.” Rolling to his back, his knees spreading her legs, his hands at her waist kept her impaled on his cock.

  She couldn’t escape. Didn’t want to escape—not him or the sweet little tremors in her pussy that pulsed around him. He swore through gritted teeth. Urging her to move up and down, his fingers dug into her buttocks. His eyes shifted between her face and the smoky glass suspended in the star-studded sky overhead. Unable to resist, she looked up and saw their faces clench in sweet agony as their hips slammed
together, parted, then rushed together—faster, harder and harder. Faster and deeper until she screamed his name and he shouted hers.

  Her head still tipped back, she saw satiation on both their faces and thought she had never seen anything so beautiful as his face. His hair fell over the slashes his dark brows formed on his brow. Thick long lashes nearly hid his eyes, but she could see a hint of hot blue. And his smile left no doubt about male satisfaction for her diminishing pulses as well as his own.

  When she recovered her voice, she said, “Voyeur.”

  He grinned. “You seemed to enjoy the mirror. Or at least enjoyed what you saw in it.”

  Ignoring the blush she felt rushing over her face, she wiggled free. Her legs, especially her thighs, wobbled when she stood. His arm snaked around her waist, leaving her feeling even more unsteady.

  “This time we’ll shower together,” he said, guiding her toward the bathroom.

  “And then you’ll take me home?” Damn. She meant to sound determined, not like she hoped he wanted her to stay.

  He shot her a look she couldn’t read. His muscular arm tightened around her ribs until she almost couldn’t breathe. Then his hand cupped her breast and his fingers stroked her nipple. Her breath whooshed out and she stumbled. Wanting him again. Needing him again.

  “One last fuck isn’t going to do it, is it, Jen?”

  Looking into his wolf-blue eyes, she whispered, “No.”

  Chapter Five

  “Are you sore?” Dane asked, soaping his hands and glancing at her.

  “A little,” Jen admitted. She hated sounding breathless, but the memories of their last shower together crowded in with memories of what they’d just done. Her legs trembled, making her feel off-center. Distracting herself, she soaped her own hands and watched them—disembodied appendages with their own agenda—touch his flat nipples.

  “Hmmm,” he hummed, returning the favor and stroking hers.

  His rose a little. Hers stood up, two soldiers at rigid attention. His cock brushed her belly on its way to becoming a flagpole. Grinning, Dane nudged her backward until she could go no farther. Warm spray jetted from cunningly concealed nozzles in the granite walls.