The Lawson Boys: Marty (19 page)

Fire seared,
pouring through her, coming out from the centre of her to surge
through her body, pushing outwards only to curl in as his shaft
thrust deep, the tide of passion rolling in upon itself, crashing
down and drawing back into her on strings of taut desire, fiery
brands that pulled and plucked at her womb as surely as his seed
leaking from the tip of his shaft branded the walls of her
sheath.

It felt like
her soul shattered, fiery sparks that tore her asunder, a wild wave
that tore her apart, throwing her out in carnal abandonment only to
suck her back under.

As her orgasm
swelled, she dimly heard Marty growl something, felt his last, hard
thrust, then the heat of his seed deep inside her, his body hard
against her, taut, pushing and pushing, and then she was flung over
the wild wave and could only ride out the orgasm in a flame of
desire that took her apart.

~*~

Slumped over
Belle, his chest against her back, his groin snug against her lush
bottom, Marty took deep breaths, calming his ragged breathing,
enjoying the feel of the generous, warm curves beneath him.

Jesus, he
couldn’t remember sex ever being this hot and wild, and he’d had
some pretty wild sex in his time. But sex with Belle had just about
blown his head off. It sure had blown another head off.

He couldn’t
stop the small chuckle escaping him. Oh yeah, he felt great. True,
his knees were a little weak, but he also felt like beating his
chest with his fists and yelling out his claim to the
neighbourhood. He felt energised, his blood pumping through his
veins, and the combined scent of Belle, himself and sex that
drifted in the air pleased him. It was an aphrodisiac that made him
harden and slowly he pulled back, his shaft sliding through her
slick sheath, rewarded by her quick intake of breath.

Feeling her
tense, he couldn’t help the supremely male grin curve his lips.
“Hey,” he said and slid back in deep.

Oh yeah, it was
like coming home, like he belonged, her body a tight, perfect fit
for his shaft, those lush curves cradling him so sweetly. Bending
low, he scraped his teeth across her shoulder blade, laughing
softly when she shivered beneath him. Her body, still damp from
their previous love making, creamed under his ministrations, and he
slid one hand over the gentle swell of her belly and lower,
brushing through the curls that protected her secrets.

Leisurely he
pumped into her, enjoying the clasping sheath, the drag and push of
his shaft inside her. Loving the way she arched back, her head
angled just right for him to lean down and place his lips on her
cheek, rasping his tongue down to the corner of her mouth, and as
her face turned towards him, he claimed her lips in a long,
leisurely kiss.

When he broke
the contact of their mouths she moaned, and he looked his fill of
her, seeing the red, swollen lips that he’d caused, the dreamy yet
hot gleam in her eyes, the green of her irises seductive pools. Her
cheeks held a light flush.

Belle looked
like a woman who’d been made thorough love to, and right now was
gradually spiralling upwards once more.

Pressing hot,
open-mouthed kisses to her throat, he flexed his hips, pumping a
little harder, a little deeper, while sliding his fingertips
between the swollen folds of her sex, finding the little clitoris
which was hardening, begging for his touch, and he feathered over
it, teasing, enjoying the way Belle undulated against him, pushing
herself into his hand, wanting more.

Begging.

“Please.
Please, Marty. Please.”

Soft little
whimpers that held the rasp of building desire. It inflamed him but
he didn’t want to let this magical moment go, this time of just him
and Belle, their naked bodies sliding against each other, her
pretty little kitchen with its country theme a private oasis, the
world shut outside.

Just him and
Belle making love. Sweet, slow, torturous, hot love.

With several
expert strokes he had her ardour climbing, felt her shiver, felt
her sheath contract and clasp him tight in an erotic fist as her
climax shuddered through her, and still he pumped slowly, riding
her almost gently as she came down, but she didn’t come down
completely, not with his hips moving continuously against her, his
hands now cupping her generous breasts, his thumbs scraping across
the little pink nipples that begged for attention.

Soon, he
promised himself, he’d claim those little nipples with his mouth,
suck them and roll his tongue around them, but right now he played
with them, alternating between light flicks of his thumbs and then
rubbing them against the middle of his palms, rewarded by the
small, hard nubs pushing against his skin.

“Marty,” she
whispered. “Oh, God.”

“Just what I
like to hear.” Grinning, he changed angle, making her gasp and try
to rise on tip-toe in ecstasy, but catching her hips he held her
still, laughing softly, darkly, when she tried to pull away with a
frustrated moan.

“Oh no, baby,”
he said. “Stay right there.”

“I don’t -
Marty, I can’t take it - ohhhh.” Closing her eyes, she shivered as
he again changed his angle slightly, titling her hips back and
up.

“You can.” He
pressed his lips to her nape, breathing in the scent of her
shampoo, the silken strands of hair tickling his chin. “You
will.”

He simply made
her, his greater strength and height making it easy to control her
movements, to shift her to ensure she received the greatest
pleasure, holding her at just the right angle as his hips fastened,
his thrusts becoming more vigorous, harder, longer.

The fire that
had been smouldering in his loins started to spread, searing out,
curling fiery tongues inside the sac beneath his shaft and pulling
tight. Blood pounded hotly in his veins, churning through his
system, and carnal heat flowed through him.

He gave himself
up to it, hearing Belle cry out as she orgasmed, the clenching of
her sheath around his shaft causing him to dig his fingers harder
into her, making his hips drive harder, his shaft harder and
thicker and stiffer than he’d ever felt it before, his movements
harder.

God, Belle made
him
so hard
.

He couldn’t
stop the rush now if he tried, not with her soft, sweet body
pressing back against him, her female muscles clamping around his
shaft, her broken moans of ecstasy filling the air and sinking into
his senses with tendrils of pure heat.

His sac felt
tight, deliciously tight, then almost achingly so, his engorged
shaft pumping deep, so deep into her hot, wet secrets.

Ardour rode him
hard, as hard as he was now riding Belle, hips pistoning as he
thrust almost ruthlessly, but every stroke shorter until he was
pushing into her, pressed against her so tight that nothing could
come between them, the pressure building and building in his groin,
almost pain and pleasure combined in a hunger that was
ravenous.

Ravenous for
Belle.

The pressure
grew, his heart thundering, and then he reached the top, his seed
bursting forth deep inside, coating her walls, marking her as
his.

Mine. All
mine.

The thought
came right before he splintered, his control shattering and the
orgasm taking him.

Arms wrapped
tight around Belle, holding her fast to him, he shook as he emptied
into her, feeling as though he would never empty and not wanting
to. Wanting the erotic moment to go on and on. Not wanting to let
her go.

Then he knew
nothing but soul-searing pleasure.

When he finally
came to, he realised that Belle was shivering in his arms. Her body
trembled and he could feel every bit of it because he held her to
him so tightly.

Gentling his
hold, he gasped, “Wait, baby. It’s okay. Just wait a few minutes.”
Straightening, he kept his arms around her, taking her with him
until they both stood before resting his chin on top of her head
and breathing deeply, calming his thundering heart while soothingly
running one hand up and down her arm.

When her
trembling didn’t stop, he turned her in his arms to cradle her
against him, and after several seconds she relaxed and rested her
cheek on his chest.

Closing his
eyes he relaxed in turn, leaning into her and feeling her do the
same. Right in that second he was the most contented he’d ever been
in his life. Belle in his arms just felt so natural, so right.

He’d have been
content to stay like that for a lot longer, but after several
moments when Belle placed her hands on his upper arms and pushed,
he released his hold only enough that he could look down at
her.

Uh-oh.

He might be
supremely satisfied but her face was totally expressionless. Or
what he could see of it, because she was looking directly at his
chest. “Belle?”

“I need some
space.”

Uh oh again. In
his experience that never boded well, especially as it was usually
him that was saying it, not the woman who was usually clinging to
him. Talk about role changes.

Ducking his
head down, he peered into her face. “Belle, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.
Everything.” She looked away. “Please, let me go.”

Ah, shit. This
could go either way. Obviously she wasn’t having the warm
after-fuzzies that he was experiencing, and that was something he
wasn’t used to, never in the history of his love-making, in
fact.

Not wanting to
push her, he slid his arms away and stepped back. Immediately he
felt the loss of her warmth, the cool air creeping over his heated
skin as she moved to the side.

Biting her lip,
she looked down and fastened her bra and re-buttoned her shirt with
trembling hands.

Warily keeping
one eye on her, Marty pulled up his jeans, refastened his shirt and
tucked it back into his jeans before zipping them closed.

Taking a deep
breath, Belle shoved a thick swath of silky curls back over her
shoulder before moistening her lips nervously.

Oh Jesus, what
the sight of her little tongue sliding across her lush lips did to
him. His shaft actually jerked in response. Marty closed his eyes
briefly. He could take her again, right here, right now. Somehow he
just knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. Damn it.

Feeling her
shift, he opened his eyes immediately and reached out, wrapping his
hand gently around her upper arm and bringing her to a halt. Still
she refused to look at him, her head bent down, the flush in her
cheeks bright. No way was he allowing her to avoid him.
“Belle?”

Without
answering, she turned her head further away.

“Please look at
me, honey.” When she didn’t, he placed his fingers beneath her chin
and turned her head, tilting it back so he could meet her eyes
without bending down. Immediately his gut clenched at the misery in
her expression. “Oh, Jesus. Don’t cry, Belle.”

“I’m not.” The
tears shimmering in her eyes belied that denial, but true to her
word she somehow managed to stop any tears escaping.

“What’s wrong?”
Shifting his hand, he ran his thumb caressingly across one flushed
cheek, concern filling him, wanting to comfort her but not sure
exactly how. “Speak to me, Belle.”

“Nothing.” She
blinked the tears away, but the misery was something she couldn’t
hide.

“Honey-”

“You have to
go.” Pulling abruptly out of his hold, she slid out of reach and
around the counter. “Now.”

“Go? But-”

“Now!”

Okay, this was
unexpected. Hands on hips, he eyed her closely. What harebrained
idea was she cooking up inside that pretty head now? And he knew
she was, he had a sister, he knew how the female of the species
thought. Without commonsense.

Not that he’d
ever tell his sister that, not if he wanted to live.

Her hand
smoothing low across her belly suddenly had concern spiking through
him. “Did I hurt you?” He walked around the counter. “Was I too
rough?”

“What? No.” As
skittish as a wild deer, she backed away.

“Are you sure?”
Watching her closely, he stopped moving.

To his relief
she halted her retreat as well. “I’m sure.”

“Then what’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He couldn’t
prevent the snort of disbelief. “Trust me, when a woman acts like
this and says nothing is wrong, something sure as hell is.”

“Well, you’d
know, wouldn’t you?” There was a bite in her tone.

His eyes
narrowed. Oh yeah, she was cooking up a harebrained idea, all
right. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

Lifting her
chin, she met his gaze unflinchingly, though her hands wringing her
skirt gave away her nervousness and the red in her cheeks sure as
hell gave away her self-consciousness.

Not phased by
either tell-tale sign, Marty started forward again.

Almost
immediately she started backing away.

“Stay right
there,” he ordered.

She halted, but
her chin remained up and her eyes glittered, this time with
anger.

Okay, anger he
could handle. Tears were another story.

He hadn’t
gotten close to her, however, before she held up a hand.
“Stop.”

“Oh no, honey.”
He shook his head as he continued striding forward. “That doesn’t
work with me.”

Belle actually
stamped her foot, which did make him pause momentarily, right
before he laughed in genuine amusement. “Jesus, you are a ferocious
little thing when you’re angry, aren’t you?”

“Damn you,
Marty! Go away!”

“Not until you
tell me what’s wrong.” Stopping directly in front of her, he
changed tactics, sliding his thumbs into the loops on his jeans and
rocking back on his heels, smiling beguilingly and letting the
rebellious hank of blonde hair fall low over his brow.