Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (19 page)

“Roll on your stomach.” His voice was hoarse with the desire ripping at him. She frowned at him but turned over, slowly, so slowly that she had to know what it was doing to him. Had to be doing it deliberately. He slapped her rear again for her impudence, a light smack that had her falling into position. Her ass was gorgeous, full and wide, beautifully white. The faint pink of his handprint lingered on the left cheek. He placed his hand over the mark, a brand of dark flesh against her pale skin. He curled his fingers into her fullness, making four indents in that soft flesh. He released the pressure. The flesh sprang back, resilient. Like her.

He stood. The bed was high, built to his specifications. Built so he could enjoy a woman in comfort while standing. He slid his hand under Jenna’s waist. With a tug he drew her to the edge of the bed so that her legs dangled off. She was just tall enough that her toes skimmed the floor. She would be helpless when he took her. Unable to do anything but accept the pleasure he coaxed from her body. Son of a bitch, he liked the thought of that.

She propped her torso up on her elbows, and shot him one of those glances over her shoulder.

“I don’t think this is the best way.”

“I do.”

He popped the metal bar holding the lid in place and opened the jar. It had a light honey scent. He scooped a bit out and rubbed it between his fingers. It seemed to be merely a scented lubricant and nothing more. He had some creams in his supply that she might like better. Creams that would add to her enjoyment.

He rubbed the base of her spine with his fingertips. “Baby, would you like to try one of my creams this time?”

“No,” She jumped against his hand. “Mine works just fine.”

The tension in her muscles spread outward.

“Shh, it was just a thought.” He kissed her right buttock, then her left, and then the tiny rosette between.

Her shriek was an inward draw of breath. There was no mistaking her shock. Damn! He would have liked to linger there, but she was too nervous. Her husband must have been an ignorant SOB.

He straightened and stepped up to the bed. His cock touched her right cheek, pressing into the lush swell, sliding outward, his seed leaving a shiny mark. With his hand in the middle of her back, he held her still while he bathed the other side.

“You have a beautiful ass, Jenna.”

“Thank you.”

“Wiggle it for me.”

“What?”

“Make it dance for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do. Use that ass to make me burn. Tempt me, Jenna.”

She managed a few tentative wiggles. He rested his cock high in her crack, letting the vibrations drag his come past his control, bathing her in his enthusiasm. He couldn’t help the groan that dragged from his throat as she clenched her cheeks, catching his cock in an intimate kiss.

“Do that again, baby. Kiss my cock with your ass again.”

She did. He thrust against her, his cock sliding up between her buttocks, skating just above the pink little rosette. He tossed the lid to the jar on the bed and coated his fingers.

“Hold still now, Jenna. Just for a little bit, and then I’ll pleasure you like you asked for as long as you want. As hard as you want.”

She held still, compliant, but a little tense under his hand. He could understand that. When a woman gave herself to a man this way, she put a lot on the line. He rubbed the base of her spine soothingly with his free hand. He started at the top of her crease, just the lightest of touches. More a grazing than a stroke. He hadn’t gone more than an inch toward his destination when goose bumps sprang up. His cock throbbed against his thigh. Ah, they were going to have so much fun.

“Here it comes, baby. Just hold still. All you have to do is hold still while I work this cream nice and deep. We’ll get you all ready, then we’ll play, and then I’ll make you mine.”

He reached her anus. She shuddered from the inside out. Damn, she was sensitive. She froze, except for her ass, which clenched in an intimate little kiss against his fingertips. He kissed it back, pressing his finger in. Her muscles tightened, resisted.

“Relax, Jenna. Just relax and push back for me, baby.” She wiggled beneath his hands. He pressed harder. He gained the barest of entrance. Her shriek nearly took out his eardrums.

“What are you doing?”

Chapter Eight

He let her pull away. His finger left its incredible haven with a mournful pop. He caught her before she could leave the bed, dragging himself up beside her. Flopping onto his back, he tugged her against him, curving his arm so that she tumbled onto his chest, her cheek naturally falling into the curve of his shoulder. He locked her there with his arm around her waist.

Against his ribs, he could feel her heart thumping. Its heavy beat echoed his own, but he was beginning to understand, not for the same reason. He slipped his hand between her thighs, through the springy curls, then up between her legs. She quivered but didn’t resist. As he suspected, she was dry, her soft folds tucked tightly against her body. He doubted she’d been aroused at any time that evening, which brought up some pretty serious questions.

He sucked in a steadying breath, ordered his cock down, and said in as normal a tone as he could, “Sunshine, we need to talk.”

She pulled tighter into him, her knee digging into his thigh.

“I won’t do that. I won’t!”

The words hissed against his shoulder. He propped himself up on his forearm to better see her face. She threw her arm up, obviously expecting to be hit. A cold, sick feeling settled in his stomach. Hell, if he took a notion to pound on her, there wouldn’t even be a grease spot left.

He pulled her arm down. She glared at him, her expression tight with fear and defiance, every muscle braced.

“Ah damn, Jenna. What in hell did they do to you?”

Panic flared in her eyes. “Nothing. Nobody’s done anything.”

He severely doubted that, but he wasn’t going to spend his wedding night arguing the point.

“What do you use the cream for, Jenna?”

Her gaze skirted his. “Not for that!”

“So I gathered. So what do you use it for?”

There was a long pause, and then she said in a very shaky whisper, “So it won’t hurt so much.”

“You think I’d force myself on you?”

“You can’t force me.”

He looked at the size of his arm as it stretched across her torso. He could make her do any goddamn thing he wanted and not even work up a sweat.

“Why?”

“I’m your wife. It’s my duty to satisfy your needs.”

“Ah.”

“Except that. I’m not doing that.”

“So you said.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do, but that still doesn’t explain why you think I’d hurt you.”

Some of the tension left her body as she frowned at him.

“It always hurts.”

He touched the crease between her brows.

“Did it hurt in the barn?”

She nodded, studying his expression intently, no doubt waiting for the moment when he lost patience turned on her.

“Then why’d you do it?”

“You were in need, and so nice to the kittens, and I thought it might make you happy.”

“But it hurt you.”

“You liked it!” Resentment began to replace her wariness.

There was a challenge in the statement. As if she expected him to deny it. He ran his finger down the short bridge of her nose, and then slid it off the side so he could touch her cheek.

“Yes, I did.” He tipped her chin up and waited until she met his gaze. “It’s not supposed to hurt, Sunshine.”

She didn’t answer, just stared to the left of his ear and ignored him. There was a stubborn set to her jaw that communicated more clearly than words that she knew what she knew and wasn’t falling for any of his statements to the contrary.

He let her certainty sink through his pride, let it dip and weave through his confidence until the unpleasant truth was reached. Whatever her motivations in the barn to do what she’d done, they weren’t born of desire. Son of a bitch! He’d been so certain he could manage Jenna that he hadn’t managed a thing. He’d mistaken complacency for eagerness and desperation for pleasure.

He had a lot to make up for.

With the tips of two fingers, he turned her face to his. “Look at me, Jenna.”

She did, the mutiny erased from her face. In its place, blank expectancy. As if she only waited on his bidding, as if her happiness was wrapped up in pleasing him. It was one hell of a survival technique. One he wouldn’t be falling for again, either.

“If anything I do to you ever hurts, you need to stop me immediately. No lying, no enduring. You stop me.”

The flicker in her gaze was disbelief, but she nodded.

“I’m serious, Jenna.”

“How?”

“How will you stop me?”

“Yes.”

“All you have to do is tell me, Sunshine. Just let me know, and I’ll stop.”

That she didn’t believe a word he said was clear in the subtle tensing of her expression. However, her agreement was immediate.

“Fine.”

He had a long way to go with her.

“That’s an order, Jenna.”

She didn’t bat an eyelash as she agreed in that husky, quiet voice.

“I know.”

“Good.”

He spread his hand across her throat, marveling that she’d taken him there, wondering what that miserable bastard she’d been married to had done to her to make her so good at faking it. The silence stretched.

“Are we going to sleep now?” she asked, breaking it. There was nothing in her tone to indicate a preference.

“Are you tired?”

“Are you?”

Hell no, it was his wedding night and he was as randy as a billy goat.

“A little.”

“I’ll stoke the fire.”

The room was chilling fast. She’d freeze in that scrap of nothing she was wearing. He caught her before her bare feet touched the floor.

“I’ll get the fire.”

He slid out of bed, and shoved his still hard cock back into his pants, watching as she perched nervously on the edge. When he came back from stoking the small stove, she was still perched on the edge, her lower lip between her teeth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

The sigh escaped before he could suppress it.

“Jenna…”

She immediately started chewing on her lip.

“I’m a restless sleeper.”

“I’ll get used to it,” he shrugged.

“Apparently I can be very loud…” Her hands twisted in her lap. The glance she flashed him was too quick for him to decipher.