Sweeter Than Honey (4 page)

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Authors: Delilah Devlin

Tags: #erotic;red hot;18th century;sheriff

BOOK: Sweeter Than Honey
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Then his
giant clam
pulsed and began to unfurl, drawing her fascinated glance back to the part of him she really had no business exploring. Her sense of fair play was stretched to its limit—snapping like a rubber band. Naked and restrained, the man was truly at the mercy of her discretion.

Still manipulating his little nipple, Honey held her breath and watched as his cock slowly straightened until it nearly reached his belly button. Her cheeks grew warm and her belly tightened. Familiar now with the signs of desire, she knew she should just throw a blanket over him. He’d made his feelings clear where she was concerned. While he might be aroused by her, her unconventional lifestyle put her beyond the pale in his eyes. He’d all but said he considered her a whore.

But the temptation his naked form embodied was just too hard to ignore. That he was unconscious only seemed to sweeten the lure, and the devil whispering in her ear reminded her she had a score to settle.

Yet she feared he’d waken while she took advantage of his helpless state. How would she explain herself? Could she live down the humiliation?

She leaned close to his face. “Sheriff,” she said softly, but he didn’t move. Not an eyelash blinked. His eyelashes were dark and thick, and when she ruffled them with a finger, they felt like soft bristles. Again, he didn’t react.

She cupped his cheek and felt the coarse whiskers that shadowed his strong, square jaw. Leaning closer, she rubbed her cheek against his and felt the friction that excited her all the more. Her true fascination lay in all the ways their bodies differed. The most prominent being the thick, ridged cock that lay against his belly.

Darker, ruddier in color than the rest of his skin, his sex was fascinating. And the blunt cap crowning his…member…was surprisingly spongy to the touch—which she discovered when she gave it a timid poke with her finger. Beneath the ridge surrounding the crown, his shaft was anything but soft. She lightly scraped a fingernail along his shaft, all the while scolding herself for her wicked curiosity.

His cock jerked, which made her gasp, and she felt her own sex tighten and pulse. How odd they seemed so in tune.

Another sweeping glance and she noted the powerful swells of his chest muscles and the tapering of his narrow waist. She skipped over his sex and followed the curves of his massive thighs and calves all the way down to his large feet and toes.

Was there a part of him she didn’t want to touch?

The ladies had made sure she could have her wicked way with him—if she had the courage to try.

A light, warm breeze wafted through the wagon, reminding her the door was wide open and anyone who might approach her camp would have a helluva view inside, despite the waning daylight.

She closed the wooden door and leaned her back against it, biting her lip as she fought with her conscience…and lost.

He’d touched her intimately. Made her feel things a woman only wants to feel with a man she truly cares about.

That he couldn’t be that man didn’t matter now. She’d had years of loneliness to imagine what lying with a man might be like. Now she had one at her disposal to explore all the wicked wanton things she’d dreamed of sitting on her wagon seat, watching the homes she passed and daydreaming about the couples who lived inside.

Only once before had she let herself be fooled that she could have that normal life, but the man who’d first turned her head had taken from her—just like this one had. That her first lover hadn’t fully consummated the act didn’t make her feel any better about herself.

She’d been desperate for the feel of strong arms around her, a broad shoulder to rest her head upon. That Sheriff Tanner had, at first, seemed to be a decent sort of man and had indicated interest in her had once again turned her head.

“Fool me once, shame on you,” she whispered. “Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Well, if there was already shame to spread around, why go only halves? Staring at his wakening cock, she reached behind her and unbuttoned her blouse and hung it on a hook. Then she stepped out of her skirt. Dressed only in her chemise, she decided she didn’t look nearly wanton enough.

She dug through her dresser for her favorite corset—a black confection of lace and satin with bright red lacings up the front. She tore off her chemise and donned the corset, lacing it so tightly her breasts spilled over the top.

Then she did the wickedest thing she could imagine, she shucked her pantalets, drew thin stockings up her bare legs and fastened them with frilly black garters.

She didn’t particularly care what he’d think when he first spied her standing nearly naked in front of him. This was all about how she felt.

Wanton. Free. A little scared, but determined she’d have him—if only to satisfy herself for once. When this night was over, there wouldn’t be a craving she hadn’t tried to feed or a part of her body that didn’t know his touch.

Chapter Four

Joe awoke slowly, drifting between clouds that sifted away one layer at a time, until at last he felt as though he lay trapped halfway between heaven and hell.

The hell was his head hurt and his mouth was so dry it seemed stuffed with cotton balls. Worse, his wrists burned and his legs were wedged tight between something warm and soft.

The heaven was the sensation engulfing his cock. A moist, humid heat surrounded and then deserted his sex, sucking relentlessly, wringing a dark delight that had his hips tensing as he attempted to lift them and follow the upward pulls rather than lose the warm, wet cocoon.

A soft murmur—feminine, guttural—came from farther down his body and vibrated along his shaft. A woman then. A woman was pleasuring his cock.

His eyes shot open and pain lanced through his head at the sight of the lantern hanging from a hook in the wooden ceiling. His gaze dropped to candles lining a dresser a short space away. Another quick glance around, and he realized he was either in a very small bedroom—or in the back of Honey Cafferty’s wagon. Despite the pain that lanced through his head, he lifted it to confirm the source of his torment.

Light glinted gold on the cloud of red hair surrounding his loins, and Joe couldn’t help the leap of fierce joy that filled his chest, creating an aching warmth that left him deeply moved.

Until he remembered all the reasons this woman was all wrong for him.

He remembered the first day she’d stopped her colorful wooden wagon in front of the mercantile. He’d marveled at the design. It looked rather like a giant oak barrel on wheels, a completely enclosed living space, painted with primitive pictures of Indian villages, churches and saloons with a trail that stretched all along its length to tell the story of its travels.

When Honey had stepped down from beneath the eave that kept the sun and rain from the wagon seat, she’d lowered the gate that stretched along one side of the wagon and quickly set out colorful bottles, their labels decorated with drawings of pyramids and castles.

When she’d started to call to the people gawking at her odd conveyance, he’d stood in the shadows, smiling at how easily she’d drawn them in with her charm and radiant smiles. He’d been drawn as well, stepping off the walkway to stand at the edge of the gathering crowd just to listen to her voice, which was flavored with a hint of brogue and Texas twang. He’d been captivated like everyone else.

Only when she’d come to purchase her license had he seen the hint of fire that simmered just beneath the prim clothing—much more in keeping with the eccentric wagon and her odd profession.

Honey Cafferty was stardust and moonbeams—fleeting as the wanderlust in her blood. He needed a steady partner, someone who’d weather good times and bad.

Another incredible pull of her lips and he gritted his teeth. Sweat broke on his forehead and upper lip. Peeking at her beneath his lashes, he watched while she drew off and stared, seeming to take pride in the erection she’d nurtured. She wrapped her hands around him, squeezing to see whether her fingers met. Then she twisted her hands and glided them up and down his shaft. She lapped at the crown, swallowing it and sliding down to meet her hands.

He’d never known a woman so eager to experiment with a man’s cock—or one who’d found the knack for torturing him so sweetly. She didn’t seem to notice he’d woken up, and he considered pretending a little longer just to see what she’d do next, but he needed to move—needed to spear upward into her hot mouth. All her sucking, pulling and twisting had made his balls heavy and tight as stones and his cock so hard he could hammer a nail into solid wood. One good thrust and he’d spill his seed deep into her throat. And wouldn’t she be surprised?

The thought of filling her mouth, seeing his pearly come on her lips, had him biting back a groan. He didn’t want to spoil her pleasure or miss a moment watching her expressive face as she worked on him. Curiosity lit her eyes and natural sultriness pouted her pink lips.

Her lips. Damn, her mouth was opening again, taking him deep while she swirled her tongue around his crown and licked over the sides. She was killing him by inches.

Needing something else to ponder so he could control the urge to explode, he thought about how he’d come to be here and wondered what magical spell she’d cast on sweet Sally Epperson to convince her to doctor his coffee. Then he wondered how the hell the two women had managed to move him here, so far out of town. And for what purpose?

For Honey to have a little revenge for the hurt he’d caused her? Or simply for her own pleasure? That thought brought him squarely back to the urgent need to come and Honey’s hot little mouth.

Just looking at her wildly curling red hair and bare shoulders was enough to tempt him over the edge. What else wasn’t she wearing? The sides of her thighs, encased in sheer black stockings, were visible beyond her shoulders, but not much else was. Her knees, which straddled either side of his legs, sank deep into a red satin comforter that covered a very soft feather bed. The thought of rolling her beneath him, sinking into all that softness…

Again, Honey’s mouth dove on his cock, driving it along her tongue until it bumped the back of her throat. A soft hand scooped up his balls and squeezed. His eyes rolled back and he sucked air deep into his lungs, fighting the need to shout.

Only when she rose did he remember how to breathe, and he opened his eyes.

She’d lifted her head, affording him a delicious view of the tops of her creamy breasts as light glanced on the mounds and darkness added depth to her cleavage. “So you’re finally awake, Sheriff,” she said, her voice low and husky.

His cock thrust upward inside her squeezing palms. “Joe,” he said, his voice sounding rusty and thick. “Call me Joe since it looks like we’ve been introduced.”

A slight smile curved the corners of her lips. She bent and stuck out her tongue to lick the head of his cock, taking a bead of pearly excitement from the tip, her gaze locking with his all the while.

He watched her pink tongue lap him like she was licking ice cream, curving under the ridge, delving into the little eyelet hole. Lord, he wanted to fuck that mouth. Would she climb between his legs and give him leverage to plow into her mouth? Could she take him deep like he was dying to go?

She glided her lips over his head, and then she lifted her face again. “Bet you’re wondering why you’re here.”

Lord have mercy. Just the sexy velvet voice made every muscle in his body tense. “Haven’t been able to hold a single thought since I woke up with my cock in your mouth,” he drawled.

Despite the blush staining her cheeks, she raised one dark eyebrow in an unspoken challenge. “Can I convince you not to think for a little while longer?” She pumped her hands down and up his cock.

He swallowed hard, feeling his gut tighten, priming for release. “Guess it depends.”

She gave him a slow, spiraling twist and smiled when he groaned. “Depends on what?”

He gritted his teeth and bit out, “On whether there’s going to be a posse with shotguns sitting outside your door in the morning.”

Her smile held a wicked warning, but she circled her cheek on the head of his cock. “This is just between you and me, Joe,” she said softly and released him. “Besides, it’s been pointed out to me that the virtue of a woman who travels alone is suspect. No one’s gonna come storming my doors demanding you do right by me.”

Drawing a deep breath of equal parts relief and regret, he said, “I’m sorry about what I said, Honey.”

She shrugged—a movement that lifted her breasts and drew his gaze down again. “I’m not. At least I know where I stand. Now I don’t have to worry about holding anything back or wondering if you’ll still respect me in the morning.”

He tugged the ropes around his wrists—more for something to alleviate some of his frustration—but he felt a slight slackening. His heartbeat thudded slowly, pounding in his ears when he realized he could free himself, turn the tables on her and have her completely at his mercy. Honey had thrown down the gauntlet, giving him the right to have her when she’d taken him and tempted him with her sweet little mouth. She hadn’t thought to tie his feet—big mistake. “What do you have planned for me?”

Her gaze was direct. “No plans. I’m just feeling my way.”

She’d said that before when she’d shyly caressed his cock in the jailhouse. He wondered how experienced she really was. First, he’d give her one last chance to keep this on equal footing. “Wouldn’t this work better if you untied my hands?”

She shook her head. “Not until we’re well past the point of no return. I might never work up the nerve to do something like this again. I don’t want you hauling back on the reins while I’m still raring to go.” Then she sucked a breath between her lips and sat up, letting him see exactly what she wasn’t wearing beneath her corset.

Air hissed between his teeth, and his whole body tightened. The corset reached only to the notches of her hips, below stretched another creamy expanse of bare flesh and a triangle of dark reddish hair.

“Just so you know. I didn’t dress this way for you,” she whispered.

His gaze lifted to her face and he saw a hint of vulnerability in the stubborn tilt of her chin. A pang struck him in his chest. “Then why?” he asked, his voice rough as sandpaper.

“I have my own fantasies, Sheriff. Things I want to learn. I figured since the ladies were so kind to give me this gift, I’d take my fill.”

Ladies?
Honey wasn’t responsible?

Still, she’d accepted their gift. Seemed to be enjoying the fruits of their ill-gotten gain. He could be merciful—after he saw to her
education
. Clawing need settled in his loins. He strained against the ropes, and they gave a little more. Perhaps it was a good thing he’d awoken bound. If he had his hands on her now, he’d flip her on her back and crawl right inside her. He’d show her how well he’d fill the pretty little quim she’d flashed.

He drew a deep breath, seeking to calm his galloping heart. Inside, his whole body was well past primed for lovemaking. He was so hard, he ached.

He’d have her now, make her just as hot and hurting, make her beg for release before he’d work himself inside her body, stroking her inner walls, tunneling so deep, thrusting so hard she’d be a wild thing in his arms.

Only he didn’t think he’d last that long the first time. He needed to come now, needed his mind free of his own painful need before he saw to building hers.

Could he talk her into stroking him to completion? “Honey, I don’t suppose your fantasies include watching a man come?”

She blinked and then her gaze dropped back down to his cock. “Why would I want to waste this watching you…spend yourself?”

“Don’t you think I can get it up again?”

“You can do that?” Her surprise seemed genuine.

What kind of men had she been with before? “I promise I can. And I’ll be more cooperative, see to your needs if you’ll just help me out here first.” As she hesitated, he added, “Have you ever seen a man explode?”

She shook her head, but he could see he’d sparked her curiosity. She narrowed her eyes and bit one side of her lip. “How would you like me to proceed?”

“You were doing just fine before, but I need to lift my hips and push into your mouth.”

“I see.” But she didn’t move.

“If you’ll slip your knees between my legs, I can dig my heels into the mattress for leverage.”

“Oh.” After a moment’s hesitation, she quickly shifted to the side so he could move apart his legs. Then she settled in between.

The space relieved the pressure on his balls, and he sighed. Since she seemed so eager to please, he pressed for more. “One more thing.” His glance dipped to her corset. “I need to see you naked. A man likes to look.”

Her hands shook as first she stripped off the stockings and garters, then unlaced the corset and slowly peeled it away, revealing her breasts and a narrow waist.

Her breasts were so lovely his mouth went dry. Perfectly formed, just the right size to overfill his mouth and hands. Large pink areolas with hard little buttons at the center.

“Touch yourself,” he rasped. “Pretend it’s my hands, my fingers.”

This time, she didn’t hesitate. She tossed back her red hair and cupped her breasts, lifting them, staring down at herself as she squeezed them, her soft belly quivering with her quickening breaths.

“Your nipples,” he gritted out. “Pretend it’s my fingers pleasuring them.”

She circled her thumbs and toggled her nipples. Then she pinched them between her fingertips and her lips opened around a moan, and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Jesus.” He closed his eyes for a brief second while he struggled to control his need. When he opened them again, she was staring at him, barely breathing. Waiting for him to tell her what to do next. The thought nearly unmanned him. “Baby, I need your mouth on me. Do it now.”

Swiftly, she bent over him and gripped his cock between her hands and sank her hot, wet mouth over him, murmuring as she drew him inside.

He couldn’t hold back another second and flexed his hips upward, spearing into her like he’d imagined, stroking past her tongue to the back of her throat.

She gagged slightly and then opened her jaws, taking him deeper, her moans vibrating along his shaft.

Groaning, he lowered his hips and lifted again, driving upward while her mouth sucked and her tongue stroked his length.

Over and over, he thrust inside her, groaning, shuddering, as she worked him with her mouth and hands, bringing him quickly to the brink. “Back off me, now, baby. I’m gonna come.”

But she murmured a protest and tightened her grip around his shaft, forcing him deeper into her throat. He roared, growling, cursing, thrusting upward, his balls emptying, forcing liquid through his cock in an endless, pulsing stream.

Honey swallowed, her throat clasping and opening as she drank, wringing every last drop until he shuddered one last time and let his hips fall to the mattress. Still, she sucked and licked, soothing him now. When at last she raised her head and let his cock slip from between her swollen lips, she gave him a look filled with wonderment.

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