Great Dane (Sensuous Seasonings)

by Brice, Dee

  “I…I’m amazed at how smooth the stone feels.” That was a safe topic, wasn’t it?

  “I didn’t want to scratch your delicate skin.” One big hand slid to the small of her back, then glided lower to caress her buttock.

  Maybe not such a safe topic. “You sound like—” Shaking her head, she focused on washing his chest.

  “Like I had you in mind when I designed this room? I did.” His fingers explored her crease, then fondled her ring.

  She flinched, shocked that he would touch her there. More than surprised at how hot the light caress made her. “You d-don’t need to lie, Dane. I don’t need pretty words. I can’t believe this house has anything to do with me.”

  He smirked. Rubbing both hands over her buttocks, he lifted her. Of their own volition, her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hips shifted. She felt his cock inch inside her and sighed, pleasure easing the ache his size brought her. She could bear that slight pain far better than she could stand not having him hold her. Not having him make love to her. Not having him in her life—even for a little while.

  Unbidden, tears stung her eyes. Her breath expelled in a shudder.

  “Shhh,” Dane soothed, kissing away her tears, unable to keep up when his tenderness made them fall faster. “Hush, darling. I’m going to make everything better.”

  “N-now you sound like D-Dad.”

  As if she’d remained silent, Dane went on. “I built this house for you. For us. I built this house so we could build new memories—happy ones.”

  Sniffing, she blurted, “Sure you did. H-how many women have you brought here? How many—”

  His kiss silenced her. The kiss contained temper, passion, and something she couldn’t define. But it felt a lot like…goodbye. Tears log jammed in her throat. Forcing them down, her resolve to make this a goodbye he’d never forget grew. Lowering her legs, she reached between their bodies to cup his balls. They felt heavy, full, despite his having climaxed several times. She’d accused him of bringing many women into his home, but now she wondered how long he’d been without a woman to ease his lust. His gasp, his hips surging against hers, his cock gliding in and out drove every other thought from her mind. Good in. Bye out. Good in. Bye out.

  “Love you,” he whispered, his glide speeding up, his thrusts deeper.

  Love in. You out until waves of rapture swamped the fire engulfing them. Still joined, he sank to his knees, his arms around her like he’d never let go.

  At last, he eased away, then helped her stand. She felt so weak all she could do was sag against the shower wall while he bathed her. Quick, impersonal strokes over his own body and hers, an even quicker rinse before he bundled them in an enormous towel he’d warmed. She let him move her however he wanted. Her mind had separated from her body, her limbs like a marionette with its strings cut.

  Somehow he managed to get her to the bedroom and made her sit on the bed. He retrieved her robe, put it on her and then knelt at her feet. She felt like Cinderella when he slid terrycloth slippers on her feet. A hysteric laugh threatened to erupt, but she swallowed it.

  Love you repeated in her mind as she watched him don his own robe and slippers, then pace back to the bed. With infinite care—as if she might shatter with a firmer touch—he drew her to her feet.

  “We can’t see the sunrise, but we can watch the stars go to sleep,” he said as he led her from the room and down the stairs.

  “I smell coffee.” She shot him a questioning look.

  “The miracle of modern technology—an automatic coffee machine. It grinds the beans, measures the coffee and water—et voila—the perfect pot of coffee. Still drink yours black?”

  “Uh-huh.” She settled on a barstool and simply stared at him. He’d always moved with an athlete’s certainty. But as he paced about his fancy kitchen, he seemed more like a dancer—every step, every gesture choreographed to maximize his fluid grace.

  Setting a mug on the island top, he leaned against it and tilted his chin toward the massive windows. “See? We’re above the fog line.”

  “You weren’t serious, were you? You didn’t build this house for…us?”

  “Of course I did. Had a devil of a time getting the Coastal Commission’s blessing. Not to mention all the other hoops I had to jump through.” He sipped from his own coffee mug.

  “Why?”

  “Because the frick—the government wants—”

  “That wasn’t what I meant. Why did you build the house at all?” Wrapping her hands around her mug, she inhaled the aromatic steam rising from it, then sipped cautiously.

  One dark brow winged toward his hairline. He looked so piratical Jen expected him to twirl an imaginary mustache and shout Ah ha!

  Instead, his wolf-blue eyes intent on her face, he said, “Because a certain young woman loves the ocean—especially when it’s stormy. Because that same woman hates the fog. Because…because I selfishly seduced her, then left without telling her goodbye. Because—even after I read about her engagements—I pictured her in every room. And hoped one day I’d see her here.”

  Every word strummed Jen’s heartstrings, but the pain of his leaving still hurt. “As apologies go, this is stupendous.” She swept her arm over the great room.

  “But?”

  She drew a deep breath for courage. “Why did you seduce me in the first place?”

  He blushed! Even with his perpetual tan, she could see his neck and face turning red. The sight of Dane embarrassed rendered her so speechless she didn’t even prod him for an answer.

  He raked his hair. Jen thought his fingers shook, but wasn’t sure. Maybe if she quit gaping at him, he could answer her. She sipped her coffee, but couldn’t help looking at him over the mug’s rim.

  At last he said, “Selfish bastard that I was—” he quirked both brows and grimaced— “probably still am, I wanted your first time to be with me. I knew…I hoped I had the patience to make your first experience, er, pleasant.”

  “Pleasant? You know damn well it was more than pleasant. You started seducing me months before. A touch here, a burning look there. By the time you kissed me the first time, I almost—” She felt her face heat and looked down at her hands, hoping he wouldn’t see her blush.

  “Creamed your panties?” he suggested through a wry chuckle. “I almost lost control myself. You were so damn shy, I wondered if you’d ever kissed before.”

  Fighting another blush, she said, “I had, but none of them affected me like your kisses. I wanted to climb into your skin, you made me so hot.” She met those hot, wolf-blue eyes and added, “I still want that. You still make me that hot.” He looked away and her heart skidded to a stop in her toes. “So, maybe we should try that exorcism one more time. I’m sure one more time will get rid of these…aberrant feelings.”

  He jammed his hands into his robe’s pockets. Giving her the impression he had something in them, he sort of jiggled his fingers. Then he said, “Something I’ve never understood about your parents… How come they’re never around on your birthday?”

  Even to her, her laugh sounded nervous. Forced. Of all the things he could have said—like Let’s forget about sex or I’ll take you home now or just about anything else—asking about her parents left her feeling gut punched.

  “When Greg was almost sixteen, our folks decided they’d feel like fifth wheels at his party. So they offered to stay away from his party. As long as Greg kept his friends out of the liquor cabinet and the bedrooms, they wouldn’t even put in an appearance. They made the same deal with me.

  “Since girls are more mature than boys, they started staying away when I turned fifteen. I’m surprised Greg didn’t tell you.”

  “I never asked.”

  “Why not?”

  He flushed. “I thought they weren’t around because… Obviously I mistook their absence for something else.”

  “What? An open invitation to seduce me?” She laughed. “Even my parents aren’t that permissive.”

  If possible, Dane look
ed even more uncomfortable, saying, “I think I owe them an apology.”

  Jen shrugged. “You’d only embarrass them. Besides, they like you. If you told them now… It happened so long ago.”

  “You didn’t tell them?”

  “Why would I? I didn’t want to disappoint them. I know they would have wanted me to wait a while before I had sex with anybody. And I didn’t want to cause problems between you and Greg.” Who knew anyway!

  “So shame kept you silent.”

  “Shame? I wasn’t— Never! What happened between us was beautiful. For a while I thought you felt ashamed. But then I figured you only did what you did because I threw myself at you.”

  His smile flashed and his blue eyes heated. “You didn’t sneak into my bedroom.”

  She grinned. “If you hadn’t snuck into mine, I would have snuck into yours. I think I was wishing so hard you heard me. Thought What the hell? She’s offering, so I’ll take her up on it.” His eyes were so intense, she pulled her robe lapels to her chin.

  “Does this—” he pulled on his own lapels— “mean the exorcism’s off?”

  Chapter Six

  Before she could respond, he strode to the refrigerator. Opening it, he grabbed a tray of fruit and a carton of unopened yogurt. He plopped them on the granite island, within easy reach for them both.

  Jen eyed the combination, then said, “Do you think I need to lose weight?”

  “Hell, no! I just figured by now you must be hungry.”

  Her stomach growled. Rubbing it, she nodded. “Starving, actually.” She snitched a honeydew melon ball and noticed it had been hollowed out, the remains a thin cap like a biosphere dome. Popping it into her mouth, she took another from the tray. It was hollow, as well.

  “Okay, Dane, tell me what this means.”

  “This?”

  “Yeah. Or maybe I should say these. The hollowed honeydew and cantaloupe. The round but long wedges of watermelon.”

  “I felt inspired to serve you something different.”

  “Fruit salad is hardly…” Seeing his wide grin, she blushed. “Y-you mean to eat the fruit…off me?”

  “That’s the general idea.” Scooping her off the barstool, he deposited her on top of the granite countertop, then untied her robe. “Right now, I’m in the mood for honeydew and cantaloupe.” He put a piece of each on each of her rigid nipples. They slid off, but he didn’t seem to mind. He licked away the juices. “Should have thought this out. Made a backrest for you to lean against so the fruit would stay put.”

  “You could use the yogurt,” she suggested, her voice husky and weak with need.

  “That’s for you. Later.” He waggled his eyebrows and her pussy clenched.

  “Honey?”

  “Good idea, but…no. Lie back.”

  “Dane, its—”

  Giving her shoulders and gentle push, he repeated, “Lie back.”

  Sighing helplessly, she laid back, the granite cool even through her robe. When he garnished her nipples with cold fruit, gooseflesh dotted her body and her nipples got even harder. She shivered.

  “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” she murmured, flinging one arm over her eyes.

  “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

  “I might enjoy it more if it didn’t seem so…”

  “Calculated?”

  “Coldhearted. I mean, coldblooded.”

  “Believe me, it’s not cold anything.” He hipped her legs apart.

  She could feel his body heat as he leaned over her. When he grasped her wrist, she tensed. She didn’t want to look at him. Have him see the naked lust on her face and in her eyes. Resistance had crumbled to the caress in his voice. Need arose when he brushed his fingertips over her lips. She smelled the melon juice on his fingers and sucked them into her mouth. His groan vibrated between their chests, down their torsos to their pelvises. His cock throbbed between her slick labia.

  He pulled away completely. She moaned, reached up to pull his face to hers, saw something indefinable flash through his eyes.

  “Soon,” he whispered, then bent to lip a melon ball off her nipple. His tongue swirled over it.

  His chest brushed against her distended nipples. Her breasts swelled. Her breath hissed out from her parted lips. Juice dripped into her mouth. Fruit and Dane’s fingers prodded her teeth apart. Wrapping her tongue around the fruit, she sucked it into her mouth, imagining his cock plundering as she swallowed.

  Fire flared in his eyes and all over her body. His cock throbbed against her inner thigh. With his eyes fastened on her face, he picked up another round wedge of watermelon. She could read his intention in his eyes. Unable to look away, she watched him trail the fruit between her breasts, down her body to her mons. She felt the juice drizzle over her curls, join her own juices as he eased the fruit inside her.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispered, still focused on her face. “Round and smooth? Hard—”

  “Not as good as your cock, Dane.”

  “Tell me what you want, Jen. Tell me.”

  “Eat me. And when I’m on the verge of coming… fuck me.”

  He lowered his head and then bent to kiss her thighs. When his tongue teased the very tip of her clit, she bucked against his face. The pleasure was so intense. Her moans, her blood pounding in her ears, his mutters— “Tasty.” “God, I love your juices.” “That’s it, Jen.” “Come for me, Jen.” —were the only things she heard. Her fingers tangled in his silky locks, his tongue on her clit, in her pussy, his stubbled cheeks rubbing her labia were all she felt. His head between her legs was all she saw. The lingering scent of watermelon in her nose, on her tongue was all she could smell or taste.

  Ripples of pleasure built into waves, taking her higher and higher. She rode the crest of rapture and welcomed her own destruction as she screamed his name and crashed, shattered, on the ungiving granite shore beneath her.

  “I’m dead and glad of it,” she mumbled as Dane slid up her body. Feeling his cheek rub her own, she turned her head. Smelled her juices and watermelon on his skin. Tasted them on his lips and tongue when he kissed her. His chuckle rumbled—pure seduction. His eyes glittered with knowledge of what he’d done to her. For her, she amended, stroking his hair off his forehead.

  Only when he thumbed away her tears did she realize she was crying.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Thank you. For giving me the most…satisfying sex I’ve ever had.” Sitting up, she nodded at the unopened yogurt carton, adding, “Guess we won’t need that.”

  Tenderness—at least she thought that was what she’d seen in his eyes—died. In its place… She couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking or what he felt. She felt frozen to her bone marrow, he looked so cold.

  One hand curled around the yogurt, put it on the fruit tray. Picking up the tray, he pulled Jen off the countertop and dragged her to the living room.

  She could feel rage coursing between her hand and his. Fear flooded through her mind. He could hurt her. Physically harm her. She wanted to run, but was more afraid running would make him even angrier.

  “What did I do to tick you off?”

  “Nothing.” Throwing a pillow on the floor, he flopped on the couch, his grip so firm she fell to her knees.

  “My turn for the most satisfying sex of my life. Come on, Jen. Blow me. Suck my brains out through my prick. When I recover, we’ll fuck each other mindless. Then I’ll take you home. Exorcism accomplished.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “I think I know why, Dane. And I’m so—”

  He glared at her like she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had. She wanted to blow him, bring him the exquisite ecstasy he’d given her. But she couldn’t. Not when he was so angry his hands shook as he tore the top off the yogurt carton, then shoved it at her. His fingers were shaking so hard, he dropped it.

  Jen caught it before it hit the hardwood floor. Glancing up, she saw him spread his thighs
. Musk and Dane’s unique scent made her inhale sharply. With a life of their own, her fingers curled around his thighs.

  “Your hands are magical, Jen.”

  Hearing his calmness, feeling his tension ease, she glanced up. His pupils had reduced, exposing the incredible blue around them. They twinkled like his wry, self-deprecating smile.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I know. And I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She laid her head on his thigh. In seconds, his cock kissed her cheek. She returned the favor, then licked salty pre-cum from its tip.

  He groaned. “If this is your way of forgiving me, I like it. A lot.”

  “Mmm.”

  “You do forgive me…don’t you?”

  “Maybe. It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how fast you get hard enough for me to decorate your lollypop.”

  His cock rose—more flagpole than candy. He grinned down at her. “Now?”

  Chapter Seven

  Jen’s breath and heart met in her throat, nearly choking her. Sweet heaven, what the man can do to me with just a look! As if he’d stroked them, her breasts ached and her nipples distended. Heat flared in her belly and, like her juices, seeped lower. He licked his lips, making her vaginal muscles clench. Her pussy felt empty, needful of his cock to complete her.

  He stood, paced away, then turned to face her again. Her gaze dropped from his face to the vicinity of his crotch. Her tongue darted out and his cock twitched, tenting his robe.

  “Are you sure no one can see in?” she asked.

  “Positive.”

  She swallowed, even though her mouth felt as dry as the Mojave Desert. “Do you want to go back upstairs?”

  “No.” Untying his belt, shrugging the robe off his wide shoulders, he stalked toward her—a sculptured god coming to life. “The couch is fine for what I have in mind.” He halted just out of reach. “Do what you did upstairs. Use my cock as a handle. Decorate me.”