Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (37 page)

“Not enough?”

She nodded.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. Just picture it in your mind and then give me the words.”

“I can’t say that!”

He cocked his eyebrow at her. “That good, huh?”

She groaned and closed her eyes.

“How about I just take a guess? “

His guess had to be better than her saying anything. She nodded.

There was a soft thunk as whatever he took from the drawer landed on the floor. His hands slid up her calves, and over her knees, slowly parting her legs while holding her gaze. He hooked first one and then the other ankle on his shoulders. His flesh was hot against hers. He turned his head, brushing her ankle with his mouth. Fire streaked up her leg. She jerked and he laughed, trailing the backs of his fingers up the inside of her knees, then turning his wrist so that his palms hugged her thighs until his thumbs reached her labia.

“I like you wet like this.”

His thumbs traced the crease of her outer lips, tugging at the hairs, tempting her. On her next breath, his thumbs slipped between the slick folds, the calluses rasping the sensitive tissues. Her womb contracted. Her fingers dug into the quilt as she struggled to contain the sinful sensation streaking outward, knowing it was hopeless even as she made the attempt.

Clint wouldn’t allow it. Never allowed it. Sure enough, his fingers dipped within, gliding on her cream to the center of her heat before working with deliberate torment back to the top of her cleft. He rubbed the inside of each engorged lip in a gentle circular motion, grazing her swollen, aching clit in random patterns, nudging her desire higher with erratic strokes she couldn’t foresee, couldn’t control. Until she couldn’t hold still. She needed him. His touch, his mouth.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

She wrapped his hair around her fingers and pulled.

“Please don’t make me beg.”

His fingers circled her clit, spreading them out and then narrowing in until he had the eager nubbin trapped in his grasp. It wasn’t enough. She lifted her hips up toward his hands and mouth, offering herself to him in helpless need. He laughed and squeezed gently. She dug her heels into the hard muscles of his back, and yanked hard. His laugh deepened, but didn’t give her what she wanted.

“Please,” she whispered again, her voice breaking on a humiliated sob, feeling as if her whole being centered for this moment in this one little spot, hating herself for the weakness he drew from her so easily.

“Shhh, baby,” His deep drawl worked under her insecurity, soothing her fear with the stroke of softness, building her confidence with the promise of strength. “I’m just making it good.”

If he made it any better she’d die. Even as she had the thought, he took her higher, closing those teasing fingers on her clit in a steady pinch. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to have every fiber of her being straining to get closer. And then he started milking her pussy the way he milked her breast—light, short, deliberate strokes that pulled every one of those fibers to a grinding pitch of desire until the tormenting need exploded in a burning conflagration of lust so strong that she screamed. Her hips lurched as he lunged upward. His broad palm slapped over her mouth.

The suddenness of the move scared her into silence. When she dared to look over his hand, he was staring down at her, shaking his head, an impossibly wicked smile playing on his lips.

“Quiet, or you’ll wake Brianna.”

Oh heavens, she didn’t want to wake Brianna, but she didn’t know how she was going to survive this. Not as she was now, her legs over his shoulders, her hips raised off the bed, her body open and vulnerable to anything he wanted.

“Take a breath now, baby.”

She did, resting her fingers on the solid muscle of his shoulders.

“Hold it.” He eased his palm from her mouth. “Don’t scream, no matter what.”

She dug her fingers in and nodded.

“Good girl.” He kissed his way down her torso, stopping at the undercurve of her breast to draw an intricate pattern over that spot that was connected directly to her pussy. Her breath caught in her throat, and her juices pulsed from her womanhood to flow over her buttocks, dampening the comforter. He abandoned her breast and slid down, his chest hair tickling her abdomen. He spread her thighs wider and then pressed that prickly soft mat of hair against her distended clitoris

His tongue dipped into her navel as he rubbed against her like a big, contented cat—his smile pressing into her belly as she whimpered.

“Now that’s a sweet little noise. Give it to me again.”

She did, helpless to do anything else as he lifted her up, spreading her thighs wide with his shoulders, leaving her open to his mercy.

He had none.

He held her there for a heartbeat, his breath blowing on her flesh, wafting over her dripping folds before crashing into the barrier of her clit, seeming to wrap around the hypersensitive spot in an undulating promise.

“Oh heavens.” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All she could do was wait and hope.

He leaned forward, riding the depth of her need, rasping her clit with his chin, sending the wild sensation shrieking outward. Every muscle snapped taut. He soothed the slight pain with his tongue before lashing the arousal back into full force, holding his tongue against her when she needed more, driving her upward when she wanted to rest, never letting her calm, keeping her on the edge until she shoved her hand in her mouth and bit back the welling scream. Only then did he take pity on her, curling his tongue gently around her clit, easing it into his mouth with a gentle suction that increased little by little until breathing became impossible. All she could do was strain toward the fulfillment that he held out before her like a glittering promise. Then with a nip and a scrape of his teeth he sent her hurtling toward it, giving her an extra boost with his clever tongue as she reached the pinnacle, catching her as she came back down to earth. Stroking her thighs and stomach soothingly as she did, he nursed her back to reality with light, easy suctions as his tongue restored her sanity. She relaxed into his caress, needing it, needing the break from the wildness to gather her control. His mouth pressed hard against her as he tugged his hand free. The mattress dipped and then something solid and round pressed against the dripping well of her vagina.

“Clint?”

“Just hold still and relax, baby.”

“What is that?”

“A very fun toy we’re going to play with today.”

The pressure against her increased. He was putting it in her. She tried to back up but the headboard prevented her flight. His arms over her thighs kept her from going anywhere.

She took a breath as the round object spread her.

“Easy, Sunshine, just a little more.”

“Clint, this isn’t right!”

“I want it.”

“But…”

He looked up at her, his expression calm, his eyes burning hot.

“Are you denying me?”

Dare she? She bit her lip and shook her head. It wasn’t her place to deny him anything. And then it was too late. With a pinch, the object slipped inside her. She didn’t know what to do. What to say. She’d never dreamed a man would want to put something other than himself inside of her. Had no idea why he’d want to do that.

His tongue smoothed over her clit in a lash of rasping heat.

“That’s my girl.”

That low drawl combined with that soft, rough tongue on her ultra-sensitive flesh sent fire racing to her core. The shiver started at her toes, worked up her torso, and ended with a sporadic twist of her head. Her hair tumbled over her face as his appreciative laugh buffeted her sensitive nub. The shiver started all over again. Before it reached her shoulders, another one of those smooth balls was pressing against her, spreading her. She grabbed Clint’s shoulders.

“Just a little bit more, Sunshine, and we’ll be all set.”

She bit her lip against the instinctive denial. Her nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt. Her breath came in tense pants.

“How do you do this to me?” she blurted as the second ball seated.

He patted her throbbing pussy with the flat of his fingers, letting them rest against her wet flesh after the third pat.

“Do what?”

As if he didn’t know. She glared at him.

“Make me feel like this.”

He kissed her stomach hard and pulled her nightgown down over her thighs.

“Just lucky I guess.”

She didn’t believe that for a moment, but she also didn’t want to hear about all the women he’d practiced on before her. She shifted and pulled back, the balls an alien weight inside her.

“Take them out.”

“No.”

He took her right breast into his mouth through her nightgown, giving it a nip on the tip before letting it go. Her breast felt heavy and swollen in the aftermath.

Her hands slid down his shoulders as he rose above her.

“Please?”

The smile slipped from his eyes. Years of teachings told her to drop her eyes. The flicker of a frown on Clint s face changed her mind. Clint didn’t want her that way. He saw her as something different than what she was. Something stronger. She fought the urge and held his gaze. Her reward was a kiss on her nose and a cryptic denial of her request.

“They’re all part of today’s fun.”

He came up the side of the bed near her head. She unfastened the buttons of his denims and then licked her lips as he lifted the hard length of his cock free. He was dark, swollen, and throbbing for her. And for this moment in time he was hers. Only hers. She opened her mouth, moistening her lower lip as she pushed forward, kissing the spongy head softly the way he liked, daintily licking his pre-come off as he groaned. His hands sank into her hair before she opened her mouth and took him deep. Completely without reservation. The way that pleased him best.

* * * * *

She was not having fun. Those balls that had seemed so innocuous at first were, in reality, instruments of torture. With every step she took, they shifted and struck against inner nerves that flowered open, eager for the contact. Her pussy ached and her nerves were stretched taut. She needed relief, but Clint was nowhere in sight.

Jenna wiped the last
cake tin and put it on the stack. Her arm brushed her nipple. She clenched the counter with her fingers, bracing herself against the surge of sinful desire. As she turned she bumped the tins. She caught them and quickly silenced the clatter. She did not need Bri up yet. She still needed to frost the cakes so they’d be set to go when Jackson had time to take them into town for sale. A quick glance revealed the baby was still sleeping in her makeshift bed on the kitchen table.

Jenna rubbed the condensation on the window over the basin. The sun was bright, sparking here and there off patches of ice. In the corral, two horses stood hip-shot, soaking up what warmth there was from the late morning sunshine. Chickens pecked around the hen house.

She leaned forward to look toward the front of the house. All she could see was the support holding up the roof and the edge of the porch. No Clint. A flicker of black caught her eye. It repeated and she sighed. It was nothing more than Danny’s tail ruffling in the breeze. The knob of the cabinet door brushed her privates as she settled back to her feet. She jumped back, horrified by her body’s reaction.