Soul Scars (Dog Haven Sanctuary Romance) (26 page)

F
ROM THE MOMENT he’d stripped and knelt between her legs the heat that pooled low in her stomach came to a low boil, as if there was a surface vibration as a result of the chaos she could feel. She’d seen him enough over the past year—through the colder seasons that demanded the swaddle of a heavy coat, into the lightly-clothed summer—to have a good idea about the shape of his body. But having him before her, completely naked, meant seeing him for the first time.

The curve of his erect cock, hard, almost against his stomach, was beautiful. She wanted to glide a hand along its velvet length, taste the moisture that gathered at the tip, even licked her lips in anticipation. His denial to let her touch him did nothing to relieve that. His eyes held so much passion, as if for this one moment he revealed the person he could be. Lulah could detect a small crack, a shift in his darkness that seemed to say he had now rediscovered a sliver of his soul.

To be honest she wanted to ask him if he was scared because, despite her own bravado, she realized that committing to this act with Vince would change them, no matter how much they hoped it wouldn’t. Casual, mindless awesome sex with a friend was exactly that, but with that glimpse of his soul she knew that, irrespective of their shields, their hearts tonight were taking a good look at each other.

One finger reached between her legs, exploring the divide of her lips before sinking inside. She wanted to squeeze her legs closed and hold him there forever, or until he made her come.

“So hot and slick, Lulah, I knew you would be.” His voice lowered an octave to a sexy rumble.

“Please…” Was that her? Driven to begging already? Her plea drew a chuckle from Vince and in one quick move his broad shoulders were between her thighs. She cried out as his mouth closed over her, not with sucking or devilish flicks of his tongue, though she sure hoped that would come later, but simple hot, wet pleasure. He stayed sealed on that spot and when she tried a greedy move to ask for a bit more, his hand tightened on her hip, urging her to be still. Well, she could live with that, no problem. His head shifted a little, one single swipe of his tongue, firm in its execution, deliberate in the way it avoided her clit. Again her hips tried an involuntary buck but he kept a strong hand ready to counter any moves like that.

She drew her head back, closed her eyes and concentrated on what his mouth did to her pussy. His tongue kept at that infuriating single swipe that had no rhythm or reason to it, and because the movement was so unpredictable, her body never had the chance to adjust. Each time was a mini-shock; her hips would jump and her pussy clenched with longing.

One hand left her hip to make a slow crawl to her breast, taking the nipple, and she couldn’t contain the harsh cry that rose from deep within her. Finally he settled into a rhythm that played between fucking her pussy with his tongue and long sweeps up to her clit, which he suckled as if it sustained life itself, all the while troubling her nipples.

For some time she’d thought about Vince’s mouth on her and she couldn’t deny the number of fantasies she invented in which he starred. But this became more than those mind-plays had ever been. Somehow, emotion had become involved, and that ratcheted the entire game to the level of crazy.

Quite soon every nerve between where he played with her nipples and flicked with his tongue fired—and be damned with making herself thirsty—she could hear herself panting. She was barely in control, doing her hardest not to beg too much, because god knew how much ammo that would give him for future teasing. He probably had no idea the danger he was in if she didn’t climax soon.

As the pressure started to build, low in her core, she stilled, willing him to keep doing exactly that thing he was doing. Right when something began to uncoil deep within her Vince slowly pulled off her clit, drawing it into his mouth for an achingly long time before releasing it and lifting his head to look at her.

“Lulah, is this going okay for you?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds and she honestly thought he was up for a discussion. She started to shake her head and he met her with a grin.

“Let’s go for the prize.”

“Yeah, go for the prize, Vince.” He was back in seconds, more intense now and lighting again the exquisite ache that built inside her. She tensed beneath him, her hips straining for release and he used a hand on her hip now to guide her, letting her find the rhythm that suited her best.

All the nonsense words and appeals she made, meant she was perilously close to coming and he read it perfectly. Taking his hand from her hip he ran a trail beneath her thighs and came at her with two fingers, rocking them into her for only seconds before her orgasm overwhelmed her. He kept working at her, sucking, his fingers dragging with deliberate strength inside her, drawing out the long slowing contractions, until she lay quietly, just the odd small twitch and an easing breath.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

“You should have felt it from this side of things. Wow.”

“Yeah, wow, for real. Worked for me, too.” He slid up the bed so that he lay full-length alongside her, his cock hard and insistent, pressing against her hip. “Here, to me,” he suggested, guiding her chin towards him and covering her mouth. In seconds he lifted away from her. “Musky and sweet, all at the same time. More?”

How could she resist him? A mix of dominance and caring that kept a seesaw of emotion rollicking through her. She went back close to his mouth, skimmed her lips once across his in a teasing swipe. “Vince, top drawer, there’s something in there for you.”

His grin broke across his face. “Are you a good little scout, imp, always prepared?”

“Check and see.”

When he reached over her to the bedside cabinet she trailed her fingers along the line of another tattoo. Her hand circled his bicep firmly, waiting to feel the play of muscles as he slid the drawer open, shook the condoms free from the box.

“A vibrator, Lulah? Have you been pleasuring yourself while I lie lonely, on my narrow cot in the barn?”

“A girl has needs, Vince. No point in denying them.”

“Want to give me a demo?”

She laughed. “Seriously? When I have the real live UHT Guy here in my bed?”

“Do you think of me when you use it?”

She squeezed his bicep and he flexed beneath her hand. “In your dreams, buddy.”

“I hope I’m in your dreams, imp.”

In one slick move she plucked the condom from his hand and leaned on his shoulder, rolling him to his back. “My turn to tease. Arms up, take hold of the headboard.”

“No, Lulah, really…”

She straddled his waist bringing her knees firmly against his sides, lowering her body in one serpentine movement, articulating her spine so that bit by bit she covered him. He’d sucked in his breath, held it as she rubbed her hard nipples against his chest. “Trust me, Vince, you’ll love it.”

“But I want to touch you.”

“If you behave, I’ll let you, but right now I want your hands around those slats. Two out from the ones I hung onto because I made them pretty slippery and they’re probably still wet. I don’t want you to lose your grip and hurt yourself.” She gave him a couple of seconds and when he didn’t move she pinched his nipple. “Do it.”

He raised his eyebrows, then raised his arms at a pace that spoke of his reluctance. “For the record, I draw the line at calling you Mistress, okay?”

“Now, there’s something I hadn’t thought of.” She put the condom, still in its wrapper, between her bared teeth, and slid her hands up his arms, taking hold of his hands, wrapping his fingers around the slats exactly as he’d done to her. Once he took hold she used her fingernails, starting at the inside of his wrists and drew them back down his arms. When she neared his armpits he rocked his hips towards her and she winked at him, making him smile. She took one corner of the condom, tearing open the foil as she pulled it from her mouth. “Hands stay where they are, Vince, or I’ll tie them there. Your choice.”

His fingers opened and closed at the suggestion. “Ah, no, Lulah, that’s not going to work.”

She cocked her head, suggesting that it would work, one way or another.

“You see, that would entail my co-operation,” he continued, “and some pretty persuasive talking on your part.”

“This here, is my sales pitch.” She waved the condom at him.

“Lulah, I won’t let go, that’s a promise okay?”

“You keep talking in that low, sexy voice, Vince. Works fine for me.” She started a slow, backward crawl down his body, raising her hips to skim over his erection before settling back on him, midway down his thighs. She looked at his erection for a few too many seconds then back to Vince. His hands were clenched around the slats and for the first time she worried about the sturdiness of her bed.

“Lulah,” his voice was rough, “can we speed this up a bit?”

She went back to his cock. Ran the knuckle of her index finger from the base to the head. “Is this all for me, Vince?”

“Only if you hurry,” he muttered through his teeth.

She brushed her thumb over the head, through the wetness that gathered there. His hips rose to meet her hand, trying for more contact. She waved the condom at him. “Hope this fits.”

“I’ll make it fit, okay? Why don’t you give it to me?”

She shook her head and held the condom out of reach. In a flash he’d snatched it from her, pushing her hand away, and rolled it on.

“You’re meant to be holding the headboard, Vince.”

“We’ll go back to that another day, right now, you’re killing me. I’m going to blow an artery if I’m not inside you in the next five seconds.”

“I see you still need to work on your impulse control.” Positioning herself over him she started to rub her slippery entrance across the head of his cock. He grabbed hold of her hips.

“Take as long as you want, imp, but all moves are in one direction now.”

She pulled back a grin, as she started a long, slow settle over him. He was big, hard, and it had been a while. “Slowly,” she whispered, easing him inside.

Vince groaned. “Don’t move.”

To be honest, she didn’t know if she wanted to. The look he gave her was hot, scorching hot, and she would happily stay awhile with him burning her up, inside and out. But she wanted to watch him lose control, wanted to hear her name on his lips and she started to ease up the length of him, gaining some satisfaction as she drew her name from his mouth.

With a tight hold on her hips he pulled her back down on him. “Christ, you’re like a hot, wet furnace. You keep gripping me like that, I’m going to come in seconds.”

She loved the idea of taking him over the edge and once seated deep within her, she squeezed her muscles again, enveloping him as he tried to withdraw. “Do you like that, hot guy?”

His response a mere sound, harsh and inherently male as he pulled away to push harder and deeper into her. He took his hands from the bed head, taking one to her hip, one to the top of the shoulder. “You can punish me later, but right now, I have to do this.”

Lulah threw back her head, her back arched as Vince filled her over and over, his hips rising to meet her as she rocked against him. With a final lunge, his control snapped. When he cried out her name, she relinquished her own barely curbed constraint and fell upon him, trembling, covering his face with kisses and murmurs of pleasure.

Chapter 22

V
INCE SPENT THE morning building a transport crate for the carousel dog. The truck was due late that afternoon to make the pick-up to take it to Seattle for Friday’s fundraiser. He was pleased with the way the Justice replica turned out and hoped it would be well-received at the auction.

Almost as amazing as making love to Lulah the previous night was the fact that he slept the night with her without the intrusion of nightmares. Fucking incredible, and unintentional because he could never have consciously risked harming her again. After a long shower, they’d returned to her bed and as he held her, intending only to stay until she slipped into sleep, he had fallen asleep too.

Back in bed, Lulah rolled him to his stomach, straddled him, vowing to finish that massage she’d started all those weeks ago. With a gentle inquiry she asked about his scars, his tattoos, allowing him to tell bits of each story without interruption or asking for more than he was capable of sharing. The compass tattoo on the back of his shoulder she ignored until last, and he’d tensed when he knew the question would be coming as she traced it with one fingertip, drawing over each point and the letters of each associated name. She kissed each one, long, drawn-out kisses, before lying full-length over his body, her cheek resting on the tattoo.