Ace's Wild (31 page)

“My God, stop, I mean...”

He didn’t care what she meant. He wasn’t stopping now, not until she screamed his name and the world exploded, and the only thing that existed was him and her and the surrender she couldn’t help. He was hers, and she was his. After this they would both know it. After this, there would be no going back. Her taste filled his mouth. Her scent his nostrils. She was fucking his. He drove her higher; she fought harder. He could feel her starting to fight.

“No!” With a nip at her clit, he centered her.

“Ace!”

“Take it,” he growled against her pussy. “Take what I’m giving you.”

“I don’t know—”

He cut her off. “I do.” Another nip on her clit followed by a fast circle. “Trust me.”

Her reaction was immediate. Her hands fisted his hair, opening and closing with the silent battle she fought. Taking full advantage of the little movement he allowed her, she drilled her shoulders into the bed, shaking her head in denial even as her body raced for what he offered. Too fast. She was going too fast.

“Not yet.”

Her heels tattooed his back in a frustrated protest. “Yes.”

“No.” He wanted a little bit more. To savor this first little bit longer. She’d never surrender to him again the way she did tonight, with nothing but trust to guide her. He didn’t want it rushed.

“I can’t.”

His cock throbbed painfully in his pants, adding its protest to hers. “You will.”

“I can’t, Ace. Not when you do that.” She bucked against him. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

But she was. Clinging to him as if her sanity depended on it, but holding back, because he asked for it. And then he was the one that couldn’t wait. He wanted to see her orgasm, taste it. Revel in it. “Come for me.”

Slipping his finger inside her snug little vagina, he tested her slick heat. She was tight, but not too tight. He added another, sliding them in and out as he sucked on that turgid nub of flesh where all that sensation blossomed.

“Please!”

The
please
put him over the edge.

“Now,” he ground out, pushing his fingers deep, searching for that certain spot. Covering his teeth with his lips before biting down, giving her a bit of pain to push her over that edge.

And she went. On a scream of his name, she went. Body jerking, pussy pulsing, her nails ripping across his neck. Adding her own brand to his skin.

Yes!

He wanted the pain, the mark. The passion. He wanted everything she had to give. By morning she’d bear marks of her own. Savoring the burn, he gave her a moment to settle, suckling gently, easing her back to a simmering calm. Letting her legs slide down his arms, he stood and lowered her to the bed. He didn’t follow her immediately. Instead, he just looked at her, from the tousled blond silk of her hair to the slender elegance of her feet. She was beautiful. So very beautiful. She took a shuddering breath. He placed his palm over her mound, centering her focus. Her gaze snapped to his.

“Good girl.”

He saw the flash of resentment in her gaze, followed just as quickly by pride. She took another breath. And another. With a dip of his finger, he destroyed her grab for composure. He wanted her off balance. Her vagina clutched at him. She gasped again when he pumped it in tiny pulses, stroking the ultrasensitive inner tissue. Her breasts quivered with every breath, the normally creamy white skin flushed with residual passion. Atop each a berry-red nipple begged for attention. Coming down over her, on his way up to her kiss, he nibbled each. With a gasp, she grabbed his face and pulled his mouth to hers.

“I love you,” she whispered into his mouth between frantic kisses.

The declaration sank all the way to his soul. This was his Pet. She didn’t do anything by half measures. Sliding his arms around her, he rolled to his back, cuddling her above him. And she went easily, ending in a complacent, slack-thighed heap atop his chest. She wiggled and scooted until they were hip to hip, chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat. Stroking his hand down her hair, he said the only thing that mattered, “Mine.”

Her teeth brushed his shoulders. She bit delicately. When he looked down she was looking up at him, a smile on her lips. “You do like to drive me crazy.”

He pushed her hair off her face. Some things needed complete understanding. “No, I
love
to drive you crazy.”

“My mistake.”

She shifted her position, straddling him as she had this afternoon. He allowed it, holding her steady. There would be time later to teach her the finer points of what it meant to be his woman, but right now he wanted to feel her love pouring over him, filling all the empty spaces, bringing the light out of the dark, bringing him home. And she did, unbuckling his belt, then his pants, pushing them down when he lifted his hips. In an endearingly awkward move that had him gritting his teeth, she took that first inch.

Home.
The word echoed in his mind as his cock entered her heat. He was home. The thought wouldn’t leave his head. When he should be thinking of thrusting, he was consumed with thoughts of Pet. Pet waiting for him at the door; Pet cooking dinner. Pet on her knees welcoming him with a warm mouth and a happy smile, in his bed, spread across his thighs. Pet big with his child.

Placing his hands on her slender hips, he stilled her descent. He wanted, no, needed, to see her. Really see her. His woman.

“What?”

“I want to look at you.”

It was a bald statement that produced the predictable hesitation. She was beautiful with the light from the lamps reflected off the golden strands of her hair. Her skin glowed with a sheen of passion. Her hard-tipped breasts begged for his mouth. She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful. His gaze dropped to where they joined. His hands were dark against the pale skin of her hips. His cock appeared impossibly huge between her thighs. So close to paradise.

His.

Inside. Outside. Now and into the future. This wasn’t for this week. Next month. Or next year. This was...forever. Pet was his ace in the hole. The wild card tossed in his forever mix. The game he’d never played. Because he’d been afraid, he realized. Afraid he’d never find a woman with his commitment, with his strength.

“You’re marrying me, Pet.”

She fell forward, bracing her weight on his chest. Her hair tumbled about his face, partially blocking the light so he saw her expression in bits of color as she flipped her hair back. The white of her teeth, the blue of her eye, the red of her lip. Part, when he wanted it all. The sting of her nails blended with the burn of lust.

Gathering her hair at her nape he tipped her head back, and then he had what he wanted. All her love. Her passion. Her humor. It shone down on him right along with her happiness.

“We don’t even know if I’m pregnant.”

“I don’t care.”

She wiggled her hips. A creamy drop of fluid dripped down his cock. He licked his lips, remembering her sweet taste. Damn, he wanted her. His cock jerked impatiently.

Her smile slipped. “Do you promise to love me even on those days I forget to trust?”

“I will love you always.” Tears misted her eyes. He couldn’t stand to see her cry. He pulled her in for another kiss. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t spank you when it’s called for.”

He slapped her sexy ass for emphasis. Then, because she tightened and squealed so delightfully, he did it again, shivering as those hot, silky muscles clenched around him and another drop of fluid followed the first, bathing them both in desire. “But just to be clear, this is how it’s going to be between us,” he managed to grind out through the haze of lust. “First you’re going to fuck me, then we’re going over to drag the judge out of bed and then—”

She worked down on him. Taking a quarter, a half, and it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.

He thrust. She gasped as she took him all, her nails digging into his chest. “And then?”

“And then,” he gritted out, tilting her head back farther. “You’re going to stand in front of him, still wet with my seed, and you’re going to make an honest man out of me.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

On a soft, pleasure-filled sigh, she sealed their fate.

* * *

I
T
DIDN
’
T
GO
the way Ace had planned. The judge wouldn’t get up. By the time he did answer the door, Hester was awake. As soon as the word
wedding
was mentioned, all control slipped out of Ace’s hands and into the women’s. His access to Petunia had been cut off, and even his time with her had become limited because of all the plans that somehow “had to happen” in addition to the holidays. Now a month later, Christmas had come and gone, and he was standing at the altar, the bluest balls a man ever had tucked inside his pants, family and friends filling the pews, waiting for Pet to formally give herself to him.

He folded his hands in front of him and immediately changed his mind when his ribs protested. Beside him, Luke chuckled.

“Petunia’s dad weighed in a bit heavily on his daughter’s pregnancy?”

He wasn’t happy. But Ace was. In a soul-deep way he’d never expected to feel.

He touched his tender rib. He’d have been happier if Petunia’s dad wasn’t a big Swede with fists like sledgehammers and an uncompromising attitude. “The son of a bitch wouldn’t approve the marriage without tossing an opinion.”

Cocking his eyebrow, Luke asked quietly, “How many of those opinions did he land?”

“Three or four?” Truthfully, the first had left him so befuddled, he’d lost track. Been a long time since a man had been able to do that to Ace. Jarl Wayfield was a man to be reckoned with. The grudging respect irritated him even more.

“Shit, didn’t you fight back at all?”

But not as much as that comment. It was Ace’s turn to cock a brow. “He’s going to be my father-in-law. What do you think?”

“I think you should have forgotten he’s going to be your father-in-law. That man has fists as big as a summer ham.”

Ace pressed that tender spot again. “No shit.”

Another clearing of his throat from the reverend.

“Oh, give it a rest, padre.”

“We are in the Lord’s house.”

“Can’t be disrespecting the Lord now, Ace,” Tucker offered helpfully from where he sat with his wife, Sallie Mae. Even sitting he towered over everyone.

“Especially when you’re skating on thin ice with His good graces as it is,” Caine added.

The front four pews were filled with the men of Hell’s Eight and their women. Only Sam and his Bella couldn’t make it. Center front was Tia and her husband, Ed. He wanted to pitch every smirking one of them out the brand-spanking-new stained-glass windows. The men anyway. “Why don’t you send out a telegraph, all of you?”

So far no one outside the family knew for sure of Petunia’s pregnancy.

“We considered it,” Tracker tossed out.

“Even had my horse saddled up,” Tracker’s twin, Shadow, said too casually in that quiet, powder-keg way he had.

“What stopped you?”

It was Caden who answered. “Her father stepped off the stage.”

“Those boys sending that letter saved me a heap of trouble.”

Ace glared at Shadow. “If you wanted a fight so much where were you when he was kicking my ass?”

“Close enough to interfere if necessary.”

That Ace didn’t doubt. “You want a thanks for
almost
stepping in.”

Shadow bared his teeth in that cold smile of his. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

Luke covered a laugh in a cough.

“It’s not more than he deserved, taking advantage of Petunia like that,” Maddie muttered loud enough for the whole congregation to hear.

“Damn it, Maddie. I asked her to marry me.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Actually—” The preacher began.

“It doesn’t!” Maddie snapped.

Ace sighed. No, it didn’t. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I know she’s your friend.” Too much of Maddie’s past haunted her for her to be relaxed when it came to the people she loved.

Caden took Maddie’s hand and tucked it under his arm. “Petunia is marrying the man she loves. Focus on that, Maddie. She loves him.”

Ace rubbed his bruised jaw. Another gift from Petunia’s father. With a name like Wayfield, he’d been expecting someone small and...businesslike. Not a bruiser like Jarl. Not even Tucker hit that hard. “No shit.”

The preacher frowned at him. Frustration had Ace snapping, “The good Lord bore up under worse than a cussword in his day.”

“Easy, Ace.”

“I’m not some damned horse pitching a fit at the sight of a bridle, Luke.”

“Didn’t say you were, but you are jittery.”

“Hell.” Ever since last night’s confrontation with his soon-to-be father-in-law, Ace had been possessed of an odd emotion. This morning he’d finally identified it. Fear. He was afraid Petunia wouldn’t walk down that aisle today. Jarl Wayfield had made it very clear he had enough money and influence to buy his daughter out of anything, including the scandal of being an unwed mother.

A door hinge creaked at the back of the church. A squeak from the stool in front of the organ as Hester checked the disturbance. Turning back, she caught his eye as she flexed her fingers. “It’s that time. If you’re going to bolt, best do it now.”

“I’m where I want to be.”

“Let’s hope Petunia feels the same,” Luke hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up, Luke.” He didn’t need his fears made real by speech.

Luke patted his coat pocket. “Just in case, I brought a flask.”

Ace’s response to that would have had him thrown out of the church if just then the organ hadn’t wailed with one long, discordant note.

“Oops. Sorry about that,” Hester apologized. “It’s been a while.”

She started again. The notes flowed. Ace clenched his fist. The door opened. For a heartbeat, nothing filled it. Something was shoved into his hand. Inside, a growl started. Where was Petunia? There’d be hell to pay if she thought she’d get out of this. If he had to, he’d follow her all the way to Massachusetts and drag her ass back. Let her daddy buy her out of that scandal. He started for the back of the church. Luke grabbed his arm. “Hold on. She’s coming.”