She moaned into his mouth as the pads of his rough fingertips caressed her wet outer lips. His touch was surprisingly gentle, moving up and down tentatively before delving into her. Her hips bucked off the mattress, wanting more. Wanting it all.
He rewarded her with a nip to her lips and pushing another finger inside her.
“Oh!” she gasped when he pulled his mouth away from her. His lips grazed lower, licking a path down her neck, all the way to her breasts. Her nipples were now painfully hard nubs, and she let out another moan when his wet, hot mouth covered one.
Between the lashing of his tongue on her nipples and his fingers playing her expertly, her body exploded in an orgasm, her brain short-circuiting from the mindless pleasure.
Her body was still recovering when he pushed her thighs apart and moved between them. This was really happening. And, God help her, she wanted it.
He loomed above her, and she found herself drawn up to those eyes again. They stared down at her, like blazing twin orbs of blue fire, reaching deep into her, all over, until there was no part of her that remained untouched.
Mine. Mine. Mine, her soul repeated, pulsing to the beat of her heart. Something blunt and large pushed at her wet entrance, slowly pushing inside her. When she winced at his girth, he stopped. But despite her body’s protest, she wanted him to continue.
With a deep breath, she nudged her hips up at him. She could sense his hesitation.
“Please,” she breathed. “I need you.”
His answer of a soft growl sent out a ripple of pleasure across her skin. He inched inside her, slowly, allowing her to accommodate him in her narrow passage. When he was fully seated in her, she relaxed her muscles.
His mouth descended on hers again, capturing hers in another hungry kiss. His hips began to move, and the friction of him inside her made her body spasm. She clung to him, her arms going up to his shoulders, her fingers raking down his muscled back. He let out a guttural sound and pounded into her faster.
Needy, desperate moans and cries escaped her mouth, and she found herself meeting his thrusts. Hands and lips moved everywhere, kissing and touching every bit of skin. Her legs wrapped around his trim waist, heels digging into his buttocks as she urged him on. Faster. Harder. It was as if he was reading her mind, so in tune with her body that he knew what she needed.
Their lips met again, her mouth opening up to him as he devoured her. Her body went taut, his hands pushed under her, lifting her up at just the right angle to send her into the stratosphere with a mind-blowing orgasm that made her vision go white. He grunted, a low, primal sound that seemed to stretch out as his body shuddered with his own pleasure. His cock pulsed inside her, and she milked him, wanting every last drop of him. Instead of slowing down, he moved faster, gripping her ass so hard he probably bruised it. The pleasure–pain was enough to wring another orgasm from her before they both collapsed.
As her breathing returned to normal and her heartbeat slowed, the first thing she thought was, I don’t even know this man.
Yes, you do, a voice said from inside her. He’s your mate.
In all honesty, Dutchy never thought she had a mate or that she’d even meet hers. It seemed all her friends in Blackstone had found the other half of their souls, except for her. It wasn’t that she was desperate to find her mate, but she’d seen how happy her friends were, had even designed and made all their wedding dresses, so she asked herself, why can’t I have that?
The irony that he was here in Blackstone all this time wasn’t lost on her.
All right, so he’s my mate. But who is he?
A mumbling jolted her out of her thoughts—though she wasn’t likely to forget she was still pinned under the hulk of a man who gave her three mind-blowing orgasms and was still inside her. But she was afraid to open her eyes. Afraid that if she did, he might disappear.
The weight on top of her lifted up, and she sucked in a breath as he withdrew from her. He rolled over, the mattress dipping as he settled beside her. To her surprise, an arm snaked around to pull her to his chest.
Oh. Her mate was a cuddler. That seemed … sweet. She snuggled up to him, enjoying his warmth and scent, nuzzling at his hairy chest. His body was like a big heater, so she didn’t need a blanket.
From the steady rise and fall of his chest, he must have fallen asleep. Despite the burning curiosity, she tamped down the urge to look up at him. Instead she glanced around her, at least, what she could see from this angle.
The trace scent of pine told her they were in some kind of log cabin. There was an old-fashioned stove in the corner, which meant this was probably the only room. The walls were bare, but who needed decor when the large windows had views of the outside anyway—at least, they probably did, but she couldn’t tell because it was dark.
The temptation to look up at him and study his face grew stronger, but she resisted again. She was too embarrassed. I mean, who has sex with the complete stranger they woke up with?
Well, technically he wasn’t a stranger, she reminded herself. It was difficult to describe, only that she was drawn to him. It was probably too soon for the bond to form, at least from what her friends told her. Sybil—or rather, Queen Sybil now—told her that according to her husband, it would only form when both parties were ready and open to accepting it. Sometimes it happened in a few days, other times in a few months. It could even be broken and fixed again. It was scary—and exciting—to wonder how her story would play out, like in all those romance novels she loved to read whenever she had the time.
When his breathing evened out, she extricated herself from his arms and slipped out of bed. The delicious pain between her legs made her wince, but also shiver in delight. When was the last time she came that hard? Too long.
Gingerly, she tiptoed to the door she assumed was the bathroom and pushed inside. Thankfully, it was the bathroom, and she did her business and wiped herself down with a towel hanging on the rack. As she put herself in some order of semblance, she glanced around. The bathroom was bare, but serviceable. There were no personal items anywhere, except a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, and soap. A uniform shirt hanging on the back of the door caught her eye.
“Blackstone Rangers,” she whispered, reading the logo above the left-hand pocket. Unable to stop herself, she pressed the khaki fabric to her nose and took a whiff. Oh. It smelled so good. Smelled like him. The urge to wrap it around herself was strong, so she took it off the hook and slipped it on, wrapping it around her like a robe. The shirt was huge, of course, as she was already short at five foot three, but he must be huge because the thing hung down past her knees. Maybe I’ll get to see him vertical at some point, she mused.
Carefully tiptoeing out, she crept back toward the bed. The sight of him made her halt. Oh my.
He was magnificent. His large, naked body sprawled out over the bed; long hair spread on the pillows. Broad muscled shoulders, arms dotted with tattoos. Perfectly-formed chest covered with a dark mat of hair extending down over an impressive set of eight-pack abs. His cock—oh dear—even flaccid it was intimidating, and she now knew why she would be walking funny for a while.
Stop drooling, she told herself. They’d already had sex, so she shouldn’t be acting like some hormonal teenager. With a shake of her head, she crept back into bed, keeping an eye on him in case he woke up. Thankfully, his eyes remained closed, though she was longing to see those blue orbs again. A shiver went through her as she lay down next to him, but not touching him. She tucked her legs under the humungous shirt. She wasn’t sleepy, but she closed her eyes anyway until her body relaxed and she drifted off, surrounded by the warmth of his shirt and his intoxicating scent.
Light filled the room when Dutchy woke up, but that wasn’t why her eyes flew open.
No, it was the weight of the hot, hard body on top of her.
Shock coursed through her as her gaze moved downwards, her gaze colliding with blue eyes. The two blazing orbs pinned her as he pulled the shirt she wore open and t
ook a nipple between his lips.
“Nnngghh!” Her fingers dug into his scalp, tugging at the hair, as if she could get him closer. His response was to take as much of her breast into his mouth and graze the sensitive tip with his teeth.
She moaned again, bucking her hips up. When his knees nudged her thighs apart, she braced herself to receive him, but to her surprise, he released her breast, and crawled lower.
Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head when his mouth touched her slick lips. Her fingers fisted into the sheets as her body tensed from the growing pressure building in her. A growl startled her, making her head snap down.
He was staring at her as he devoured and licked at her. The noises rang through the quiet cabin filling it with filthy, depraved sounds that only fueled her desire. Though her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at how much he was enjoying himself, she couldn’t turn away. When her lids started to close, he only growled louder and sped up the motion of his mouth.
As his lips found her clit, he had to hold her down to keep her hips on the mattress. When he sucked back hard, she let go, letting the orgasm ripple through her body.
She was barely coming down when he flipped her to her stomach, pushed the shirt up, and kicked her knees apart. Covering her back with his body, he surged into her in one motion.
“Oh God!” She clung to the sheets, her buttocks lifting back to meet his thrusts. At this angle, his cock stroked the most sensitive places in her. One hand thrust into her scalp, fingers tangling in her hair. When he pulled back, she nearly howled as a wave of pleasure wracked her body.
He hauled her up to her hands and knees, and she braced herself against his powerful hips as he rutted into her. A hand shoved between her legs and his fingers plucked at her clit, coaxing another orgasm from her body.
She thought she was truly wrung out by then, but he was relentless. His hands grabbed at her shoulder and pulled her up to him, a hand wrapping around her breast to play with her nipple, while the other pushed her hair aside so his mouth could suck at the sensitive skin on her neck.
“Please!” As his teeth nipped at her shoulder, her body shook with pleasure.
He half growled–grunted against her, his cock twitching as he emptied into her, flooding her insides with his warm seed. His thrusts slowed, his grip around her tightened, and he twisted her head around to catch her mouth in a hot, sensuous kiss.
When he released her, she sighed and fell back down on the bed, his cock slipping out of her. As she felt the mattress dip and rise as he left the bed, she closed her eyes.
She must have dozed off, because her body felt stiff when she opened her eyes again, like she’d been in the same position for hours. Though there were trace scents of him, she knew he wasn’t in the bed. The feeling of being alone unnerved her, and she quickly sat up.
“You’re awake.”
The low, rough timbre of the voice sent warmth through her. Her head snapped toward the source—it was him, of course. He stood by the stove, bare-chested, arms crossed over his chest. His jeans hung low on his hips; top buttons opened. Blue eyes peered right at her, pinning her until a hot, furious blush crept up her neck.
“Um, yeah.” Realizing she was still wearing his shirt—which was parted and showed a generous amount of her breasts—she grabbed the lapels and pulled them shut. “Sorry. I didn’t have anything else to wear.” They’d already had sex twice at this point, why the heck was she so embarrassed?
He gave a noncommittal grunt. “I have food. And coffee.” He cocked his head at the table in front of him.
Now that intrigued her. And her hungry stomach. Scrambling off the bed, she padded toward the kitchen–dining area. As she drew nearer, her fox came to life, sparked by his presence. The animal yipped excitedly, as if reminding her who this man was to them.
Not that she was likely to forget.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she sat on the lone chair. The coffee smelled great, and there was toast and a heap of eggs and bacon. “Have you—”
The light flickered overhead.
“I should check on the panels.” Without another word, he brushed past her and headed out the door, into the cold and snow.
Reaching for a piece of toast, she nibbled at the end. Did he regret sleeping with her? But they were mates. Okay, so maybe they should have gotten a few things out of the way first—like each other’s names—but the instinct was too strong. It was difficult to deny she wanted him as much as he did. Initially anyway. His gruff manner unnerved her, but maybe that’s just the way he was.
Her fox wagged its bushy tail, agreeing with her.
Yeah, that’s it. It was obvious the sassy little creature was infatuated with their mate.
What was he anyway? Something large, for sure. She had sensed his animal, of course, but only fleetingly.
Minutes ticked by, and he didn’t come back. So, she ate some more toast, eggs, and a couple of pieces of bacon and washed it down with the cooling coffee. When she was full, she put the food away and brought the dirty dishes to the sink.
A quick glance out the window as she cleaned up the dishes told her the worst of the storm had passed, but everything was covered in a thick blanket of snow. How bad was the storm? And where the heck was she, anyway? How would she get back home, and what was going to happen now?
The door slamming against the wall shook her out of her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, completely naked, jeans in one hand, shaking the flakes that had clung to his beard and hair. It was obvious he had shifted to his animal form while outside.
A thrill ran down her spine, and her fox scritched with excitement. There it was, his animal. Fierce and strong and wild. It called to her. Tugged at her, and her instincts told her to reach out and—
The animal pulled back, as if he had reined it in and locked it away. The move made her start, as did the flash of anger in his eyes.
Turning away, she attempted to concentrate on washing the dishes, though she could hear every move he made, from the moment he closed the door to when he shucked on his jeans and walked up behind her. She tensed, sensing him inches away.
“My name is Duchess Forrester, by the way,” she began as she dried her plate. Maybe it was better not to look at him, because those indescribable blue eyes had only one effect on her. “But most people call me Dutchy.”
A heartbeat passed. “John. I’m John Krieger.”
John Krieger. My mate’s name is John Krieger. “Um, nice to meet you, John.” She remained with her back to him, and she told herself it was because she still had to dry the rest of the dishes.
“I’m sorry. About …”
Her hands stilled as his palms hovered over her shoulders. When they landed lightly, she said, “Don’t.”
He pulled them away as if he’d been burned.
Sensing his recoil, she quickly placed the plate back into the sink and whirled around. “No.” She placed her hands on his chest. Muscles jumped under her touch, and he sucked in a breath. “I mean, don’t be sorry. About what happened between us. I wanted it.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes, the blue gaze sucking her in like a black hole she couldn’t pull free from. “I still want it. Want you.”
His mouth came down so quick and hard on hers, she barely had time to take in a breath. His lips drank from hers hungrily, and she found herself being lifted up, her legs wrapping around his waist. She thought he was going to bring her back to bed, but instead, he planted her on the table, pushing his jeans down to take out his already engorged cock.
“Ohh.” She braced herself as he moved between her thighs. The tip of his cock teased at her clit, making her body shudder with little shocks of pleasure. “Please, John.” An arm came around her as he pushed into her, filling her with the familiar feeling of him.
He held her close, kissing and touching every bit of skin he could reach. Her arms, too, wound around him, clinging to him desperately as their bodies raced to the finish line, both of them shaking as they each reache
d the heights of their pleasure.
When it was all over, she plastered herself against his chest, afraid to let go lest she melted into a puddle on the floor. He lifted her up, cradled her close and carried her to the bed. He attempted to pry her away, but she clung to him tighter. So, he lay them on top of the mattress, cuddling her close as she nuzzled at his side.
Silence stretched on until she cleared her throat. “Um, John. I wanted to ask … where are we?” Her hand played over his chest, enjoying the feel of the rough hair under her fingertips.
“Ranger Cabin. Just outside the entrance to Contessa Peak.” His voice had a rough-hewn quality, as if those were the most words he’d spoken aloud in a long time.
“Contessa Peak?” That was really far away from where she’d started. How did you get all the way up here? she asked her fox. The little creature only shrugged.
“You didn’t know?”
She shook her head and told him what she did remember. “… and uh, then I woke up here.”
He grunted. “Found you while patrolling in the snow. Your fox was half frozen. Brought you back.”
“Patrolling?” Oh right. He was one of the Blackstone Rangers. She didn’t know much about them, only that they protected the areas around the mountains, much like park rangers in national forests and parks. “The storm. It came out of nowhere.”
A sound rumbled from his chest. “Yeah.”
Good thing this ranger cabin was here. Probably had it for emergencies like this. “So … when do you think we’ll get back?”
“Back?”
“Back home. To town.”
There was a pause. “Half the solar panels were knocked out. Should have enough power for two days if we conserve the batteries. I’ll start up the radio and call into HQ. Roads are probably out for now. Might be a while before they can send transport in the morning.”
Blackstone Ranger Guardian: Blackstone Rangers Book 5 Page 2
