Take Me

by Tracy Wolff

  Add to that the fact that Max has spent the whole time smiling at Hope and standing too fucking close to her for my liking, and I’m about one ass kiss away from exploding all over this fucking lame as shit party. And that’s before he puts his hand on her lower back on the pretext of guiding her away from me and through the nonexistent crowd.

  But before he can get more than a few feet, I reach out and grab her wrist. She turns with a surprised little “Ooh,” as I gently tug her back in my direction. “Time’s up,” I say loud enough for him to hear me.

  Max looks like he’s about to argue—a suicidal move if I’ve ever seen one—and to keep myself from plowing a fist into his face, I follow the only other course available to me. I step closer to Hope and plant a kiss on her that, when it’s over, has her looking up at me with dazed eyes and trembling lips.

  But Max still has his hand on hers and I’m not okay with it. I don’t know why it pisses me off this much—that’s something to figure out later—but it does, and I’m not having it.

  “Time to go, darlin’” I tell her, brushing another kiss over her lips. At the same time, I pull her closer, so that Max has no choice but to let her go or end up on the other end of a tug of war that will make both of us look like dicks.

  He lets go—of course he does—with a what-the-fuck glance that I return with interest. “It was lovely to meet you, Hope,” he tells her as I wrap an arm around her waist and start propelling her toward the exit.

  “It was nice to meet you, too,” she calls over her shoulder as we’re already at the door.

  A couple other people try to stop us “for a word,” but I give them a look that has them backing away pretty quick. Which is exactly what I’m looking for. I lasted thirty-seven minutes in that fucking party—which is seven more than I promised Max. I’m way past done.

  Hope doesn’t say anything as I escort her through the building, my hand on her hip as I hold her close to my side. She does shoot me an amused glance every time our eyes meet, but I just shrug. Yeah, I just behaved like a caveman and no, I don’t feel any remorse about it. She’s mine and there’s no way I’m going to put up with some dickhead sniffing around her, even if he is the one paying my commission.

  There’s a part of me that balks at the possessive way I’m thinking about her—it’s been a long time since I let myself consider a woman mine—but I’ve never been one to lie to myself. And the truth is, I’ve known Hope was destined to belong to me from the moment I fastened the first restraint on that St. Andrew’s Cross. What that belonging means, I don’t yet know. Any more than I know how long it will last. But she’s mine now—to take care of and to possess—and I’m not going to pretend to feel otherwise.

  Once we snag the valet, it only takes a few minutes before we’re settled in the car and speeding toward the water. And that’s when Hope finally says, “I’ve never seen anyone get into that big of a pissing contest with another person without saying a word.”

  “It wasn’t that big of a pissing contest,” I tell her.

  “Only because you finished it before it could even get started,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

  “That’s the best way to do it,” I tell her with a shrug. “Knock the competition out of the running before they even know there’s a contest going on.”

  “That’s pretty cutthroat of you, don’t you think?”

  “I prefer to think of it as efficient. He was interested in you and I let him know it wasn’t going to happen. Problem solved before it began, if you ask me.”

  “I’m not your bone to fight over, you know.”

  “Of course you’re not my bone.” I shoot her a wolfish smile. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.” I grab her hand and bring it to my dick, which is currently hard as fuck behind the zipper of my jeans. Again, not a surprise, since it’s turning into a permanent condition around her.

  “God, that’s awful.” Hope tries to look horrified at the pun, but she’s laughing too hard to pull it off.

  “That’s not what you were saying last night, darlin’.” I thrust lightly against her palm.

  “Last night I didn’t know you were a caveman,” she tells me with a haughty sniff. But she’s already stroking me through the denim—lightly at first, and then with a little more pressure when I can’t hold back a moan.

  It feels good—she feels good. Not just the way she touches me, but the way she looks at me, talks to me, is with me. I’m usually so immersed in my art that I never get to see this side of my lovers. When I’m with them, it’s usually about sex or art and that’s it. But with Hope...with Hope there are a million other things I want to do with her. A million other ways I want to spend time with her. It feels weird as fuck, and also as natural as making art ever has.

  I groan again as she eases open the button of my jeans and then slides my zipper down. And when she finally slips her hand inside and wraps it around my dick, I can’t help thrusting up to meet her.

  “You’re not wearing underwear,” she accuses, voice soft and strained, breathing a little faster than normal.

  “Thought you were the only one who could pull that trick, huh?” I tease in a blatant attempt to remind her of just how much time she spends naked around me. And how much we both love it.

  It must work because a quick glance shows me her nipples are hard as fuck and I can suddenly smell her arousal, the closed car doing nothing to dissipate the scent. And fuck, just fuck. Where the hell is a deserted road when you need one?

  “I wasn’t complaining,” she murmurs, her fingers gliding over and around my erection in a way designed to make me as crazy as possible.

  “Believe me, neither was I.”

  She strokes her thumb over the head of my dick. “Don’t I know it? You’ve been getting me naked from the first minute you saw me.”

  Fuck. Pleasure slams through me and suddenly it’s all I can do not to pull the car over and fuck her right here on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway. Any ticket we get would be more than worth it, especially since the way she’s breathing hard and pressing her legs together tells me Hope is as close to the edge as I am. Maybe even more so.

  It’s that thought that has me pressing down on the accelerator even before she murmurs, “Hurry.” That thought that has me changing my mind about where I want to take her. Well, that and the fact that she chooses now to duck out of the top strap of her seatbelt and bend over until she can take me in her mouth.

  “Fuck! Hope!” I hiss the words between clenched teeth, my whole body tightening to the point of pain as she runs her tongue along the underside of my dick. “You’re going to kill us.”

  The warning doesn’t stop me from lowering one hand to her head to keep her in place any more than it stops me from thrusting up and into the recesses of her mouth.

  Once again, she delivers a long, leisurely lick down the length of my cock—even stops to suck the head for a few seconds—before turning her face to look up at me. “I’m just keeping myself amused,” she says, all false innocence. “You’re the one driving.”

  I glance down at her incredulously. “You’re the one making me so hard I can barely see.”

  “I like that.” She grins as she once again lowers her head. “Let’s see what I can do for your other senses while I’m at it.”

  Her mouth closes fully over me and this time I nearly lose it at the wet, sweet pressure of her—even before she reaches lower and cups my balls. I groan deep in my throat, gritting my teeth against the sudden, urgent need to come that’s rocketing through him.

  I want to be inside her when I come.

  I want to prop her hot little ass down on my workbench and drive into her again and again. I want to kneel between her legs and lick her for hours.

  I want to fuck her—from the side, behind, standing up, sitting down. Every way I can think of. Every way there is for as long as
I possibly can, until she’s so exhausted and so sated that she won’t be able to even think about leaving me.

  “Hope—” Her name is torn from me as she swirls her tongue around my cock, pulling me deep into my throat as she does so. And that’s before she finds the sensitive spot on the underside of my tip and delicately licks at it until I’m nearly out of my fucking mind.

  “Stop!” I tangle my fingers in her glorious curls and pull hard enough to get her attention, but not hard enough to hurt. “Hope, baby, you need to stop. Now.”

  “Mmmm-hmmm,” she murmurs deep in her throat...and then she ignores me.

  My exit looms up ahead—thank Christ—and I take it a little faster than I should. We’re a mile away now and all I can think about it is getting to the private road that leads to the lighthouse I bought on a whim several years ago.

  And then I do whatever I have to—reciting the alphabet backward, listing every sculpture in the Louvre, planning the revenge I’ll extract for this—to keep from coming in Hope’s hot, sexy little mouth.

  Five minutes later I’m pulling onto the private road that leads to the lighthouse. Two minutes after that—when I’m sure we’re far enough down the winding road to avoid being seen by anyone driving by, I jerk the car to a halt. Then I’m fumbling Hope’s seatbelt off and lifting her into my lap before I even bother to turn the engine off.

  She smiles teasingly and asks, “Why are we stopping?”

  I shoot her a mock glare, even as I climb from the car with her still in my arms. “You know why.”

  I let her slide down my body slowly, turning her as she does so that she’s facing the SUV, her hands planted firmly on the hood. Then I reach under her sundress and yank her panties down her legs with one hand while I shove my own jeans down with the other.

  “Anxious much?” she asks with a wiggle of that ass of hers. It only makes me hotter as I rip open a condom and roll it on.

  “You have no fucking idea.”

  I lean forward, graze her long, elegant neck with my lips before I reach between her legs to test her readiness. She’s hot, drenched with excitement and I can’t wait any longer. Bending her over the hood, I lift her to her tiptoes and surge inside of her with one hard thrust of my hips.

  She whimpers deep in her throat, a high pitched, desperate sound that has my hands clenching on her hips and heat skating down my spine. And when she reaches back to rake her nails down my bare ass, it’s all I can do to keep from losing it completely.

  “Harder,” she gasps. “Please, Deacon. Do me harder.”

  And fuck. Just fuck. She’s every fucking wet dream I’ve ever fucking had all rolled into fucking one, her strangled gasps taking me higher as I give her what she wants. What she’s begging for. I slam my hips against her ass again and again, hard and fast and deep. I try to temper my strength, afraid I’ll hurt her, but she’s sobbing now, begging for more and it’s the last fucking straw.

  I can feel the last tenuous thread of control snap and I lean forward, bite at her shoulder, her neck, her upper back. I can’t help it—she’s driven me beyond reason, beyond control, beyond sanity, until all I can think about is taking her. Having her. Claiming her.

  She cries out as I nip at her shoulder blade, then, a loud, desperate, hungry cry that has me straining against her as pressure gathers in the small of my back, shoots down my legs. I’m close, so fucking close, but I need her to come with me. Need her to feel what I’m feeling as I all but drown in a maelstrom of pleasure and heat and what feels an awful lot like love.

  I keep one hand on the small of her back—holding her in place—while I slide the other one between her legs. She calls out my name and I reward her with another slam of my hips even as I spread her open with my fingers, stroking the spot where we’re joined as she whimpers.

  “Come on, darlin’. Come for me. Let me feel you.” I stroke my thumb over her clit—once, twice, a third time. That’s all it takes for her to shatter. She comes calling out my name and I ride her through it, relishing the way she clenches around me again and again, milking me with every contraction of her long, lithe body.

  I clench my jaw, fight off my impending orgasm with everything I’ve got. I thought I was ready, but I’m not done yet. I’m not ready to let her go, not ready to bring her down. And I’m sure as shit not ready for this one perfect moment to end.

  I take a couple of deep breaths to steady myself before reaching under her dress to rub her hard nipples through her bra.

  “I can’t,” she gasps, pushing weakly against me. “No more, Deacon. I’ll die.”

  “More,” I tell her, because I can’t stop now, not when her skin is flushed pink with her pleasure and her voice is slurred with satisfaction...and with need. Not when her body is moving restlessly against me, as desperate for what I can give as I am to give it. To prove my point, I squeeze her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers, relishing the way she clenches around my cock in response.

  “There’s always more, darlin’. More and more and more. Always. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will.”

  My thrusts are slower now, but no less hard and deep as I coax her toward her next climax. When she moans and starts moving against me, I know I’ve got her. I slide one of my hands between her thighs and gently tap a patter on her clit that has her calling out my name, her head lolling forward even as she arches into my touch.

  “That’s it, darlin’. That’s it.” I continue stroking her clit, continue pinching her nipple even as I lose myself in the way she moves more and more urgently against me. Leaning down, I lick my way from her shoulder to the sensitive spot behind her ear, relishing the way she shudders at the first touch of my tongue.

  Then I whisper, “I love it when you come, Hope. I love watching you and feeling you. I love being inside of you when your muscles clench around me again and again.”

  I kiss her neck, nibble at the strong but delicate line of her jaw. “I love your hard nipples and your hot little clit.” I brush my lips over her lobe, my tongue sweeping against the sensitive spot behind her ear as I continue to whisper to her.

  She moans deep in her throat, her body moving feverishly against mine even as tears of need gather in her eyes, stream down her face. My words are taking her up again, bringing her closer and closer to another climax. I can hear it in her breathing, see it in the sweat beading her skin, feel it in the way she’s clenching around me and I want nothing more than to send her careening over the edge.

  “I love that you’re always hot for me, always wet and willing. I love to fuck you, to thrust inside you and feel the way you hold me so tightly.” I pull out slowly, then slam back into her, relishing the scream she doesn’t even try to stop. “I love how you take all of me, how you always want more.” I’m ratcheting my own need up now, my words—and her reaction to them—getting to me in a way that has my dick begging for release.

  To buy myself a little more time, I lower my mouth to the bend between her neck and her shoulder, kissing and licking and sucking until Hope is all that I can taste, all that I smell, all that I can feel.

  “I love how you seduce me with your eyes when I’m drawing you. How you never say no, even when I’m pushing your boundaries. How you let me fuck you anywhere. Half the time when I’m sketching you, I’m not thinking about what I’m doing. I’m thinking about you—about your beautiful breasts and your fucking gorgeous pussy and your smart mouth that never lets me get away with shit.” I pinch her clit between my thumb and middle finger, so that I can use my index finger to stroke the sweet bundle of nerves again and again.

  “I love your body.” I squeeze her clit a little harder and am rewarded by a high-pitched scream as she thrusts her ass even harder against me. “I love your breasts—how your gorgeous little nipples always taste like raspberries.” I coast my hands up her stomach to her breasts even as I lick a fiery trail down her neck. “I
love your legs and how they wrap so perfectly around my waist. I love your pussy”—I give an extra hard thrust that has her crying out—“and how it holds me so tightly.”

  “And I absolutely, positively love your ass.” I slide a hand down to caress the lush globes before I spread her open and carefully slide one finger inside of her.

  She bucks against me, trying to get me to speed up, but I refuse to be hurried. Not now when all my feelings are coalescing inside of me, mixing with the pleasure and the need coursing along my every nerve until it feels like I’m on the brink—of an orgasm and a realization that will change everything.

  “Deacon, please. I need... I need—”

  “You need me, darlin’. That’s what you need. And God knows, I’m figuring out that I need you, too.” Just saying it out loud brings me closer to the edge and I slam into her, pounding against her over and over again as everything I’ve never felt before wells up inside of me. “I love everything about you.”

  She sobs my name, reaches back to grab any part of me she can reach. Any part of me she can hold on to. And that’s when I break. “I love you, Hope. I fucking love you.”

  She screams then, a wild, desperate sound that pushes me straight into oblivion. And then I’m coming, spilling myself deep inside of her. My orgasm triggers her own and she comes calling my name as she grabs on to my arm, holding on to me with all of her strength as everything disappears but this one moment and the two of us.

  It goes on and on, her orgasm bleeding into mine until I don’t know where I leave off and she begins. Until all I can think of—all that matters to me—is holding Hope. Loving Hope. It’s fucking terrifying and fucking exhilarating all at the same time.

  When the last contractions finally wind down and I can think again, breathe again, I collapse against her, blind to everything but the incredible glory of holding the woman I love as she slowly recovers from the power of this thing that burns between us.