Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (50 page)

“This is not a good time to be teasing me, Jenna,” he warned in a deep, dark voice.

She disregarded the warning. There was nothing he could do to her that she wouldn’t welcome. The way he handled his cock enthralled her, fascinated her with what it revealed. He wasn’t nearly as careful with himself as he was with her. There was an expediency to his touch when he handled his flesh. Not at all the way he touched her. On her, his hands had a tendency to linger, to savor. To pleasure. The way she wanted to touch him.

He stroked the length of his cock again and grimaced. She knew his touch, knew how his calluses scraped deliciously against sensitive skin. Knew the pleasure he was giving himself. And wanted it for herself. She slid one hand down her stomach, moving gently on the soft flesh, inching toward her pulsing clit.

“Son of a bitch, you’re tempting me,” he growled in the back of his throat.

Yes, she was. And enjoying it. Her pleasure must have shown in her smile, because with one last muttered curse, he was on her, lifting her against him, one hard, muscled arm hitching under her buttocks, anchoring her hips to his as he strode to the bed. He fell with her onto the mattress, laughing when she squealed, catching himself on his hands, his lips still aligned with hers, his cock edging the cleft of her pussy, sliding easily along her lubricated flesh, teasing her clit with a slow, gliding pressure.

This time she was the one who moaned. And he smiled that wickedly dark smile and dipped his head, his hair stroking her breasts in a silken caress as his lips hovered above hers.

“You shouldn’t tease a starving man, Sunshine.”

“Why not?” she whispered into his mouth, the last syllable ending on a moan as he pumped his cock along her labia again.

“Because you might get more than you bargained for.”

She bit her lip and arched her neck as the pleasure whipped through her.

“How much more?”

He paused. “You’re in a strange mood tonight.”

Yes. She was. For the first time in her life she was free and she was in a rush to try everything, but how could she explain that to Clint, who’d probably never felt trapped in his life? She glided her hands over his shoulders, running her nails along the swell of muscle, arching her back into his shiver.

“It’s like there’s been something weighing me down my whole life and suddenly, it’s not there anymore.”

He kissed her mouth, the right corner, the left and then the end of her nose.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re ready to fly?”

“Yes.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s dangerous to tell me that now.”

“Why?”

She titled her head back to facilitate the kisses he was spreading down the line of her jaw. She loved his mouth. His kisses. Firm yet soft, each kiss accented by the prickle of his beard. That edge of danger heightening her excitement.

“I’m holding on by a thread, Sunshine.”

““Holding onto what?” Oh God, when he sucked on her neck she could barely hold a thought.

“Control, baby, control.”

“Do you need it?”

His laugh buffeted the curve of her shoulder.

“Sunshine, I’m a hair’s breadth from either fucking your ass or paddling it.”

That did not sound good.

“Why?”

“Because you could have been hurt today.” He plumped her breast into his callused palm. “Because I could have lost you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“The near miss is driving me crazy.”

His hot mouth closed over her turgid nipple searing her with the heat of his need. Against her, his body was taut with the same desire. She pushed his hair back, watching his cheeks flex as he suckled her. She traced the arch of his brow. She remembered back to their wedding night. His excitement. His kindness. She traced the line of his right eyebrow. He looked up at her, for a split second his soul bare in his eyes. She’d never seen such emptiness in a man’s eyes before. She’d do anything to remove it from Clint’s.

“I don’t think I’d like to be paddled,” she whispered, taking a leap of faith.

He froze, releasing her nipple with an audible pop, hitching himself up so he could see her face.

“Excuse me?”

It was harder to say with all of his attention on her. “I don’t think I’d like to be paddled.”

He cupped her burning cheeks in his palms, forcing her gaze to his.

“Baby, are you telling me that you want me to fuck your ass?”

She caught his wrists in her hands, holding tight to him.

“I don’t know.”

She just didn’t want him to look so empty. Against her pussy his cock throbbed. Against her chest, his ribs expanded with the effort it took him to breathe.

Oh God, he wanted this.

“Will it hurt?” she asked, hating the quaver in her voice.

He kissed her hard. “Not in any way you’ll mind.”

She didn’t find that reassuring. “Will I like it?”

“I’ll make sure you like it.”

She flexed her hips against him. He was huge.

“How will you fit?”

“Nice and easy.” He drew his hips back. His cock slid down her slit, brushing her anus in a soft kiss before nestling into the crease. A forbidden pulse of excitement crept into her desire. “Just a little bit at a time.”

Her bottom cheeks spasmed against his cock, hugging it to her as if trying to tempt him.

“You like the thought of that.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in his tone. He pressed against her. She sank her nails into his wrists as the pulse spread to an ache. He moved a little and the sharp flare of desire took her breath.

“Damn, you’re as sensitive there as you are in your breasts.”

“That’s good?”

He kissed her then, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, twining with hers, taking possession. He pushed harder, settling his cock more firmly against her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but press back and try to understand the gamut of emotions tearing at her control.

When he allowed her to breathe, he said, “Very good.”

“I’ll need my cream.” It was half question half statement of fact.

He shook his head, his hair swishing against her cheeks.

“I have something better.”

“Better?” She trusted her cream.

“Yes. Better.”

She followed his hand with her eyes as he reached for the bed stand drawer and pulled out a jar. It was white and plain and not the least impressive.

She bit her lip. “I’d rather use my cream.”

“Trust me, baby, you want this.”

He nudged his cock against her anus, her muscles contracted with pleasure and fear. He propped himself on his elbows and opened the jar. She sniffed. It didn’t smell nice like hers.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather use my cream?”

His grin was sin personified. He put the lid on the bed.

“I’m sure.”

She caught her breath and closed her eyes as he scooped out a dollop of cream. He kissed her softly as his fingers replaced his cock with a smooth coolness.

“This is going to make you feel good, Sunshine.”

She thought he meant the act, but as his fingers parted her that first stubborn bit, a strange warmth began. She twisted her hips, arching up into it, impaling herself just that much more.

“Can you feel that?”

“Yes.”

“It’s going to get warm and then you’re going to want to move.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Just go with it. Move against my fingers.”

“Fingers?” The one he had in her stretched her to the point of pain.

“I need to stretch you, baby.”

He pushed his finger in deeper. Her muscles tensed around the knuckle. It burned. She would have cried out except the warmth from the inside burst into a tingling itch.

“Oh, heavens.”

“Shhh, don’t tense. Just relax.”

She couldn’t help but tense. His finger was in her and the heel of his hand pressed against her clit and that itch was demanding she scratch it. Oh God, she needed him to move. He did, but not in a way she wanted. He removed his finger from her rectum, dragging exquisitely along the sensitive inner tissue, temporarily soothing the maddening itch.

“Clint, please.”

He scooped out another dollop of cream.

She caught his hand as the hot, maddening itch began again.

“No more.”

“We’ll need a lot more.”

He slipped her grip. She twisted her fingers into the comforter by her head as he pressed his fingers against her ass.

“Relax now.”

His finger touched her. Oh God, it felt so good. She bent her knees and braced her feet against the mattress.

“Right there, Jenna?” He circled the rim of her anus with his finger, soothing her itch, but spiking her need.

She bit her lip and nodded.

“Don’t hold it in, baby. I want to hear what you feel.”

He pressed in slightly, still circling her anus, opening her. A second finger joined the first. One big hand splayed over her stomach, down low.

“Hold still now.”

A sense of fullness invaded her rectum. There was a bite of pain that quickly blended to pleasure as he seated his fingers to the first knuckle.

He began to fuck her slowly, in and out, rubbing and stretching her, keeping her between heaven and hell until with a hard push, he seated his fingers to the base, sending mixed signals of pleasure and pain to her brain, which seemed only interested in the pleasure and its need for more.

She arched her neck and screamed. It felt so good, but she needed more. So much more.

“Please.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to move.”

“Not yet.”

“Give me more.”

“In a minute.”

She fought the restraint of his hand, her very womb aching for him.

“Now!”

He shook his head, lashing her abdomen with the thick dark silk of his hair as he kissed her stomach, her hipbone, her pubic mound, and lastly, her clit. The pleasure shot like pain outward, sensitizing all her nerves to the potential for more. She hung with breathless anticipation on the hot wash of his tongue over that straining nubbin, her pussy clenching in an agony of need, her breath suspending in her lungs.

She grabbed his shoulders, seeking purchase against the sensations destroying her world as she groaned, “Oh God. You’re torturing me.”