by C. D. Gorri
Grrr.
“Okay, fine. No money. But I insist on cooking today. Deal?”
He waited a beat. Not completely happy with her decision to work off her imaginary debt to him, but Keeton tried to see it from her perspective. She was independent, proud, and totally adorable. He had no wish to take any of that away from her, so he agreed.
“Fine, but I get to assist you.”
“Okay.”
Surprised by her ready acquiescence, he looked up and froze like a deer in headlights. Marilena was smiling at him, and it was like the sun peeking through the clouds after weeks of nothing but rain. He swallowed down his desire, trying for calm when he felt anything but.
Her iridescent eyes glittered at him from across the table. A gorgeous combination of rusty bronze and moss green, she blinked them slowly behind long, thick eyelashes. His heart squeezed in response at their otherworldly beauty.
Keeton had never seen a woman with her coloring. Golds and greens like some Celtic goddess, though her name screamed her Italian heritage. Must have been the Vikings, he mused.
“What are you thinking about that has you grinning so?”
“Nothing,” he replied.
“Come on. Tell me. I love a good story with my coffee.”
“Well, I was just wondering about you.”
“What about me?”
“Your family is Italian, right?”
“Yes,” she answered, seemingly pleased with his interest. “I have Italian blood on both sides of my family. Though my mother is third or fourth generation American, my father was born in Italy.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I didn’t know him well, though,” she answered, looking down at her mug.
“Must be the Vikings,” he said, and rapped his knuckles on the table.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Your eyes and hair. Must be the Vikings.”
“I don’t get it.” She laughed, clearly game for his explanation, and damn, but he was charmed.
Loved seeing that smile on her face, and the good humor glittering in her eyes. He wanted to make her smile again and again for as long as he was able.
Forever. His Mountain Lion seemed to think that was a possibility, but Keeton refused to enter that dream.
That way lies madness. She was beautiful and vibrant. He could not bear to think of her wasting away on a mountain just to be with him. It was unthinkable to even ask it.
“Well? What Vikings?” She asked, interrupting his inner turmoil.
“Oh,” he said, remembering where he’d left off. “There was a guy from New York in my first special ops unit-”
“You were in the military?”
Keeton stilled. Shit. He hadn’t meant to reveal anything about himself to her. But she was just so easy to talk to. How could he harbor secrets from his fated mate? Impossible. Resigned, he nodded and continued his tale.
“Yeah. Anyway, he was almost as tall as me, with this crazy white-blond hair and bright blue eyes. All the guys ribbed him about not really being Italian. Finally, one night we were waiting for orders to move forward on an enemy encampment. Dangerous territory. There were these really evil militant fuckers trying to take over the government of a small nation. They were heavily armed and had these animal-like pens filled with civilians surrounding their enclosure for protection against us-”
“That’s despicable,” she said, and her outrage on his behalf did something inside of him. He looked at her long and hard before continuing his story.
“Yeah. It was. So, we were waiting in the sweltering heat of this jungle, the air was so thick it was like my aunt’s giblet gravy on Thanksgiving. Everyone was tense, agitated with all the waiting. Then New York, that’s what we called him, well, he turned all seriousness waving his hands for everyone to look at him. ‘I got it,’ he said, ‘I know why I’m so tall and blond that none of you bozos believe I’m Italian. It was those damn Vikings!’ Hell, we all laughed so hard our commanding officer wrote rips for all of us. But it was good. We relaxed, waited for our orders, and got the job done without one civilian casualty.”
“Wow,” she said, leaning on the table.
“Shit. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-” Keeton apologized, not knowing why he felt the need to tell that damn story to begin with.
“What was his name?”
“Who?”
“New York.”
“Oh. His name was Rafael DiMare.”
“Did he make it home?”
“Yeah. He did.”
“And so did you.”
“Yes,” he replied cautiously, watching to see her next move.
Marilena stood up, not looking at him. Her wavy hair was a tangle down her back and her clothes were wrinkled from sleep, but he swore he’d never seen a woman more beautiful. She put her half-filled mug down on the table and moved till she was directly in front of him. Then, with no warning or sign, she opened her arms and drew him to her body, wrapping Keeton up in her warmth.
She just stood there and held him. Not speaking or moving for a good long while until his arms came up of their own volition and he returned the embrace. What started as a gesture meant to comfort, after some minutes, became something else. Keeton’s arms tightened, and he raised his head.
Even from his position sitting down on a kitchen chair, he was just a smidge shorter than her. She couldn’t be more than five-five, but Marilena was a treasure, regardless of height. He brushed her hair back from her face, running his fingers along her neck and cheeks until he held her face in his hands.
“Marilena,” he gasped her name before crushing his lips to hers.
The fact she went willingly into the kiss was a shock to his system. But the kiss itself, well, that was the genuine surprise. The moment their lips touched, it was like a torrent of emotion released, threatening to drown him in the mad rush of desire, destiny, and deliciousness.
He stood, lifting her up in his embrace so she retained her height over him. Keeton backed them up until they hit the kitchen wall, careful to cradle her head with his hands so as not to injure. Never that.
Need grappled with desire until he didn’t know which emotion was the fore. But his own turbulent feelings were nothing compared to hers. Nothing else mattered since the moment he kissed her. Nothing else ever would. Marilena was the single most important thing in his world. He could admit that now. Even if he couldn’t keep her.
Mine.
Chapter Seven
Holy shit.
Marilena never had much luck with men. Even with Cary, their bedroom antics were less than extraordinary. Significantly less.
But kissing this man, this virtual stranger, was like the culmination of every single fantasy she had indulged in since she fell in love with dramatic gothic heroes like Heathcliff and Edward Fairfax Rochester back in high school. Of course, in her opinion, Keeton Grey was not nearly as flawed as the two fictional characters. Besides, he was real. A living, breathing man. And at that very moment, he was kissing her better than anyone ever had.
Lena moaned as she sucked on his tongue, drinking in his unique flavors, and committing them to memory. Maybe this was it? Her destiny? At worst, it was the only time she’d ever come close to having a truly remarkable sexual experience. Even if it was on top of a mountain with a strange, yet gorgeous, mystery man.
“Fuck, Lena, you taste like rosewater and honey,” he whispered, kissing her lips like she was something precious.
She’d never been compared to something so delicate and lovely before. She was used to something more like ‘your face is pretty, too bad you’re so chubby’ type compliments from men. Even Cary. The asshole.
But all thoughts of other men, even her ex-fiancé, left her brain when he started touching her. Gently, respectfully, and oh-so-tenderly, Keeton found her breast beneath the rumpled cotton tee shirt she slept in. His palm swallowed even her sizeable assets, the heated skin brushing against her hardened nub sent a flood of desire coursing throu
gh her veins and culminating between her legs.
“Want you,” he growled, nipping the sensitive skin at her neck.
“Yes,” she replied, nodding vigorously. “Oh, yes.”
His emerald eyes caught hers, and he seemed to be weighing the verity of her statement. She let him stare. Hell, she encouraged it, wanting him to see the stark desire in her eyes. She knew it must be there, plain as the nose on her face, cause in all her thirty years on this planet, she had never felt anything close to what she felt for him.
This was more than desire. This was a bone-deep hunger. An ache that only Keeton Grey could satisfy. She did not know how she knew it, but the truth of that statement made her blood sing.
“I want you too, Keeton.”
The statement spurred him on like nothing else seemed to. He cupped her ass in his large, powerful hands and carried her back to the room where she woke up that morning. He placed her gently on the covers she’d rearranged like any good guest just minutes ago.
Heat, passion, desire. Take your pick. They all motivated her as clothes were removed, some torn in their haste to get each other naked. Usually shy, Lena felt emboldened by the way he looked at her. She arched her back, giving him a better view, and he hissed in return like a scalded cat.
The sound was deeper, though, animalistic. But she was not frightened. In fact, she reveled in his loss of the ability to speak. It made her feel powerful, beautiful, and wanted. Something she had not felt in an awfully long time, if ever.
“Keeton,” she moaned his name, propelling the gorgeous mountain man into action.
“Beautiful,” he growled the word, leaning over her to rain kisses on her face and chest.
Keeton ran his hands down her body, from her neck, between the valley of her breasts, over her soft belly, straight to her needy core. He left no part of her untouched as he explored all of Marilena’s secrets. A thousand and one emotions rolled through her, the least of which not being pure pleasure.
Never had she felt like so much joy from a man’s embrace. Keeton’s hands were positively magic. She was insatiable for his touch. Wanted him anywhere, everywhere, as long as he never stopped.
“Please,” she whimpered as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.
Her nipples tightened, breasts swelled, and pussy dripped with need. As if he read her mind, he closed his lips over one plump mound while his fingers parted her slick sex lips. She moaned aloud, begging him without words to continue the sensual assault that had her arching into his touch, mindless with need.
“Taste so good,” he growled, tugging her nipple between his teeth. “I want more. Want it all.”
He licked his way down her body, whispering words of praise and appreciation for her plus-size frame. Lena watched him through heavy-lidded eyes as he settled between her thighs, using his wide shoulders to spread her legs even further.
She expected him to get down to it, but Keeton was not a man to be rushed. Biting her lip, she held her breath as he simply stared at her sex. No one had ever done that before. But he was doing it. Just looking at her needy little sex, plump and moist, waiting for him to stake his claim.
“Keeton,” she whimpered his name.
Her cheeks heated, and she felt her blush spread, covering her body in a deep shade of pink. But he still did not move. His rapt stare nearly undid her. The man was all intensity, but she was a woman unused to such attention. She didn’t know how to react or what to do. Then she didn’t have to worry because he did it for her.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and lowered his head, gifting her with one hot, open-mouthed kiss right on her pussy.
Lena saw stars. She moaned aloud, head falling back as he kissed and kissed and kissed her, long and good. She gripped the bedding in her fists, trying to move her hips, but he pinned her down with his enormous hands while he feasted on her.
Holy fuck. The man was an animal. And she meant that in the best possible way. Her clit throbbed as his tongue sought her core. And just like before, he read her mind, using his thumb to strum the needy little nubbin while he stroked along her channel.
“Keeton,” she moaned.
Then switched places. He lapped at her pussy like a kitty licking cream from a bowl. Strumming her clit with his rough-sided tongue while plunging his fingers deep into her channel. Green eyes met hers as she watched him devouring her, and damn, she had never seen a man so sexy or hungry in her life.
Finally, he let go of her hips, allowing her to rock against him, driving towards a fulfillment only he could deliver. She had no doubt Keeton Grey was going to rock her world. In fact, she was willing to bet everything on it. Then it was happening. That slowly growing pleasure he delivered so expertly exploded into a myriad of sensations, sending Lena shooting over the edge like a star through the sky.
“Mine,” he growled.
She was in no condition to deny the caveman-like declaration. In fact, deep down, she sorta wished he really meant it. Lena tried to catch her breath, but she’d have better luck trying to catch a fish with her bare hands. Her mountain man was a veritable sex god.
Keeton lapped at her pussy one last time before crawling up her body. She rose up, kissing his lips while he spread her legs with his hands and placed the head of his magnificent cock at her weeping slit.
“You sure you want-” he said, his voice barely recognizable, and that was a turn on in itself.
“Yes,” she responded before he’d even finished his question.
Overwhelmed with emotion, she flexed her hips, taking him deep inside her body. For the first time in her entire life, Marilena felt whole. His glorious cock filled her completely. Every miraculous inch stroked along her inner walls, touching that secret place no other man had ever reached.
She’d never been particularly lusty or wanton, but he made her want things she’d never even dreamed of. Keeton cradled her face in his massive hands, making her feel small and cherished. He kissed her lips tenderly, prolonging the sweet contact up until he started to move.
Then all bets were off. Lena bucked wildly, scratching his back like a hellion. She screamed his name, clawed his skin, and yes, she even bit him when he made her come for the third time in a row. All the while he encouraged her, said the most deliciously naughty things, and fuck, she thought she might have even fallen in love with him just then.
He switched positions, lying flat on his back with Lena astride. At first, she faltered, uncertain of her ability to take him that way.
“You can take me, baby,” he whispered, reading her mind once more. “That’s it. Move, just like that. So fucking good.”
He ran his hands up his sides and back down over her breasts. Keeton cupped the mounds as if testing their weight. Then he squeezed, adding just enough force to his touch, plucking her nipples while she rotated her hips, grinding down on his enormous shaft. Head tossed back, Lena rode him as if she were born to do it. To do him, she thought with a naughty grin.
Sex had always been embarrassing for her, and downright unfulfilling. But with him, Lena felt so much more than she’d ever thought possible. His hands clutched her hips, and he took over. Lifting and slamming her back down on his dick. Faster, harder, and so deep, she trembled from head to foot with the power of his ministrations. Every thrust brought her that much closer to the edge.
Each swipe of his tongue across her skin, his lips on her collarbone, those fingers digging into her ass pushed her one inch closer to that pinnacle of ecstasy she saw destined for her in his evergreen gaze. Like it was his own personal promise to fuck her into oblivion. Lena was more than game, she demanded it. Wanted that paradise she saw in his eyes for herself. Wanted him to go there with her.
“Come for me, Lena, do it, now,” he commanded.
She felt her sex squeezing him tightly. It was as if her body could not bear to disobey his wishes. Then she was coming, hard and fast, and somehow everlasting. Every nerve was pulsing with raw, unadulterated passion, and still he moved. Flexi
ng his hips, Keeton ground her down hard onto his shaft.
Someone screamed, a raw, guttural noise that shook the entire cabin. Could have been either of them, or maybe it was both of them. Lena could not think, she could only feel. And right then, what she felt was him inside every single cell.
It seemed like hours later before she could even breathe, but it was probably only minutes. Either way, what was time? Keeton lifted her off him, both moaning at the sudden loss, then he cradled her close. Tucking her into his side, he held her like that until they both nodded off. For the first time in her life, Marilena drifted into a dreamless sleep born of utter exhaustion and satisfaction.
She didn’t want to think about what would happen when they both woke up. She just wanted to revel in the unparalleled connection she’d just shared.
“Mine,” she thought she heard him whisper.
If only I were yours.
Chapter Eight
Mine. Mine. MINE!
What the fuck was he doing? Keeton could hardly think coherently. Fuck that. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to feel. It was extraordinary. Momentous. A fucking epiphany. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was the best damn sex of his life.
Loving on Marilena with everything in him was second to breathing. He did not have to fake it or work at it, nor was he just going through the motions to sate a biological urge.
He knew the second she pressed her soft body to his that he wouldn’t be able to hold on to his control. Desire for her just came naturally. But unlike any other female he’d been with, her pleasure came first. Her needs were tantamount to his own, and he made damn well sure she’d felt good the whole time.
Fucking hell. He could not believe that just happened. He’d just made love to the woman the universe had made for him and him alone. Keeton had long since given up on the idea that he had a fated mate out there. Meeting her had proved him wrong. But loving her, well, that had been something else entirely.
She was so sweet, so generous. A wildcat with unbridled passion only tendered by her own willingness to give as generously as she got. Her responsiveness to his touch was awesome. Like really awesome, not the Bill & Ted version of the word.
