Breathless (12 page)

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Authors: Bonnie Edwards

BOOK: Breathless
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“Y
es, I want you grinding into me, hard, hot, and fast.” Tawny’s words sent him over the edge and he obliged her. He pressed his hips deep between her thighs, but her ugly-ass dress got in the way. Miles of heavy denim wrapped her in a cocoon solid as a chastity belt.

“Take this off.” He pulled and tugged and yanked the yards of cotton up and over her head. “I hate these things you wear, and, babe, it’s gotta stop.”

She tugged her T-shirt off next. The look of her skin went from sallow and sickly to rosy and flushed when the yellow material no longer framed her face. “You must be color-blind,” he said, “to wear such an ugly color.”

“No, just determined not to be noticed.”

He stood back to see her from head to toe. “Magnificent,” he murmured, but she looked cautious at the word.

No way would he say another word. No way would he frighten her into running again.

The scent of her rose to him and he lost his mind as he allowed his need to take over. The need for sex, his need for release, need for touch, his need for Tawny overcame his caution.

He slid his hands to her lower waist, felt the heat of her soft flesh, and tugged her close. He pressed his cock against her thigh, desperate for the feel of her there against his sensitive skin. He wedged himself between her legs and slid back and forth along the crease between her leg and her pussy. If he felt her wet channel graze him, he’d slam into her and pop like a teenager, so he kept away from her inviting wetness.

“We need to move to the bedroom. I don’t keep protection in my kitchen drawers.” His voice was guttural with need, but he didn’t care. She had to know she had the upper hand here. He was lost and he couldn’t hide it.

“Yes, thanks,” she said, foggy and unmindful. The idea cheered him. He wasn’t alone in this sexual fugue. “I nearly forgot about protection.” She bit her lip; then she said the words he’d waited to hear: “I want you so much, Stack. I’m dripping.”

“You are,” he said as he set a fingertip to a warm trail of moisture on her inner thigh. So soft. He slicked his finger along the moisture, savoring the flavor. Her eyes flared as she watched him lick his finger. Salty-sweet need slid across his tongue, inflaming him.

He hadn’t seen her body since that day at the pool, but his memory had served him well. Caution stopped him from speaking. He didn’t want to remind her of his reaction that day. He might break if she walked away from him now. In this moment, there was nothing he needed more than Tawny.

So, he looked his fill but said nothing. Exactly as he recalled, her breasts were full, high, and heavy, and overfilled her plain cotton bra. An image of her bikini top overlaid the ugly cotton.

This bounty of lush female flesh was all Tawny. She wore no push-up pads. There was no silicone. Nothing but what her great genes had given her. Mountains of warm, soft flesh and feminine sexuality that called to arms everything sexual in him. She was completely female to his male. Her waist was narrow and firm, her belly flat but softly giving. He smoothed his hands up from her pubis to cup her breasts, warm and pliant. He ran his hands down her sides, feeling the flare at her hips that said she was wide enough to take everything he wanted to give her. Inside his head, he roared with possessiveness. His blood pounded and his cock stiffened to a thick spike of need.

He tugged her thong away from her lower belly and looked down. She squeaked and he chuckled. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You look delicious, Tawny.” This time, the roar in his head settled in his throat and he growled his need. Her scent, fully aroused, moist and female, bloomed in his nose. Unlike a lot of women, Tawny hadn’t shaved. She was lush with soft curls that shone with her juices. “I’m going to have to taste you, you know that.”

She squeaked again, and glory of glories, her legs opened and he knew he’d been right. She knew what she wanted, knew what he wanted, and was willing and even anxious to let him get his mouth on her.

All the blood in his legs had gone to his cock, and he wasn’t sure he could stand much longer.

Tawny James was a helluva woman: built for loving, built for sex, built for babies. He slid his hand to her pussy, combed through her curls, felt her wet and full in the palm of his hand.

His legs started to shake as he lost himself in the scent and feel of her. He tapped her slit and felt her lips open.

“Oh, shit. I’m in over my head, Tawny.” And he didn’t care. He wanted Tawny James for every reason a man could want a woman.

“Not yet, you’re not,” she murmured, and pressed her hands on his shoulders to ease him to the floor.

For the first time in his life, a woman made him fall to his knees. Happily.

He pressed his face to the curls at the top of her legs and breathed in her musky desire. His heart stopped beating, his hands shook, and his mouth watered. His dick wept with the drive to enter and take and fill her. His balls ached for need of release, and all he could do was open his mouth and seek the glory she offered.

Tawny opened for him, ripe and plump and juicy. No thong that he’d ever envisioned could compare with the reality of this thin, red line of material that did nothing to stem the tide of juices he found.

He’d need his tongue for that.

Her clit peeped out at him, firm and rubbery. He laved and suckled at the delicate flesh, while her thighs trembled and shook with each stroke. He was in heaven, buried chin deep in Tawny James.

He braced her knees on his shoulders to help her stand while he burrowed and worked at her pussy. Her folds opened like a blossom in the sun when he slid his finger along her trench.

Inside, she was slickly hot and ready for deep penetration. He obliged with two fingers and pumped hard to prepare her for more.

Her delicate clit got harder with each pass of his tongue, while her juice flowed over his chin. She moaned and rocked against his mouth, urging him deeper, needing to come.

“Oh! I’m coming.” The words were throaty, guttural, and came with a gush of moisture so creamy he wanted to drown in her.

Her quaking shudders continued until she was lost in a haze of sensation. Soft cries rained down on him as he held her still against his mouth and tongue. He swirled his tongue, let her rock against his firmed lips until she quieted and her shudders eased. His heart pounded so loud she must have been able to hear it.

He wanted to let loose an earsplitting yell of triumph, but that would only spook her. Instead, with the last ounce of control he possessed, he stood and lifted her into his arms. All he wanted was to carry her to his bed with some measure of grace. She fit against him perfectly. Her pert, luscious ass rubbed his cock as he moved. Beyond all reason, his bloodless legs worked the way he needed them to.

Tawny gloried in Stack’s attention. She was tall, solid, and had never been lifted and carried by a man in all her adult life. When he set her on the bed, she slipped her thong off and waited while he undressed. She wanted to cover her face, but she was too desperate to see him for shyness to ruin things now.

He was stupendous. His black hair flowed to his shoulders in abundant waves. Body, his hair had body. And his body had hair. A glorious mat covered his chest in a manly V that narrowed to his groin. Black and lustrous, it matched the thick hair on his head.

Stack Hamilton was perfect, absolutely perfect.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice suddenly rough and worshipful. He’d said that in the kitchen, too, but now he sounded desperate to convince her that what he said was true.

She flushed hot in the face and patted her cheeks. “Stack, you don’t have to—”

He raised a hand to cut her off.

She fell silent. What more was there to say? She’d already let him eat her into a raging come. His mouth had been on her, his tongue inside her. She could think of nothing more personal, more intimate than that.

Except…

“Lean forward,” he said. His request was rough, earthy, and she didn’t hesitate to follow through.

She leaned ahead so her forehead rested on her raised knees. His hands went to her bra catch. “What the hell?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry,” she said, and reached behind her to undo all three catches. “Guess you haven’t seen this much support before.”

“This is one ugly-ass bra,” he said as he slipped the straps down her shoulders.

The bra fell away and she tossed it off the bed. It was ugly, that much was true. But she’d never worn bras with seduction in mind.

“If I don’t use decent support, I’ll have boobs to my knees by the time I’m thirty. And those pretty lacy things you think look so good will not hold up these babies.” She supported her breasts to show him and his eyes widened at the gesture.

“Flick your nipples,” he said, his voice a throaty hum.

She did, surprised by the urgency in the sensation—urgency and disappointment. She wanted his fingers, not her own,
his
hands cupping her,
his
mouth drawing her deep.

“Pull them.”

“What?”

“Like this.” He slid two fingers over the tips of her breasts, wedging her nipples in the apex.

She sighed with the heated intimacy, the quiet surge of sensation. Stack Hamilton was good at this. Very, very good. For three years, she’d hidden from him, from this.

He tugged gently to create an edgy shaft of sensation that zipped to her low belly.

She let her head fall back, her eyes close, better to enjoy the rocketing spasms as he tugged and released. “It’s so much better when you do it.”

He chuckled. “You’re big and soft, and your nipples are perfect.” He bent to suckle and she arched toward him, needing more. He cupped her breasts, made a trench between them, and licked her there while playing her nipples into hard hard need.

When his mouth captured her and sucked deep, she felt her womb contract with each suck. She watched his face firm, his cheeks hollow with every intake of flesh. His tongue swirled and his teeth scraped lightly, teasing her into a frenzy.

His knees braced hers on either side so she couldn’t open her legs. She shifted and tried, but he wouldn’t budge. The suckling went on and on while she melted into a pool of achy need at her core, unable to open for him, as much as she needed to.

He
knew
damn well she was flexing her legs. “Let me open my legs. Stack! Let me move!” She made a strong attempt, but he only opened his eyes and stared at her face, his mouth full of her right breast. The suck he gave her was the strongest yet. Seeing his eyes on her as he suckled made her moan. She rode a surge of excitement and arousal.

His cock rose stiff and proud between them, daring her to claim him. She set her fingertip to him, felt the dew drop of need. He jerked in a spasm and she grinned. “Gotcha,” she murmured, as she wrapped her hand around his shaft.

He released her with a soft pop as he straightened so she could get a better grasp on his cock. “Torture, that’s what you’re in for now,” she said, then lowered her face to run the tip of him across her forehead, down her nose to her closed lips.

She licked her lips to get them extra wet. Then she tap-tap-tapped his head against her mouth while his knees flexed and his belly clenched. She liked this. Loved the anticipation of the taste of him, waiting for the feel of his heat inside her wet mouth.

She licked the sticky essence of him off her lips and studied his expression. Hard, demanding, but thrillingly silent, he waited, completely tensed, coiled and ready to spring.

Tawny considered dallying. “Want me to tease you? Or make you pop the way you did to me?” The come she’d had had blown her mind, and she wanted to return the favor.

He reached to smooth a tendril of hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t make much difference, we’ll be at this all night long anyway.”

“If I’d known how this would be, I never would’ve run from you.”

He stilled, then held her cheek with delicacy as if she were a blossom and he a Renaissance lover. “I never would have let you go.”

“Will you kiss me now, please?” That was the intimate act she craved. The one thing she needed in this moment.

He cupped her face in his large, heated hands and held her still. The need, the desire, the affection in his gaze thrilled her beyond anything he’d done to her physically. She was his, completely.

“I can’t believe I haven’t yet. But there’s nothing more I’d love to do. Give me your mouth, Tawny James, and I’ll give you mine.”

She shuddered and shook and settled back down on the bed, while he covered her and fit her to him. Their legs entwined, his chest weighed on hers comfortably, his chest hair brushed her nipples into hard buds. Her belly felt the weight of his hips comfortably between her own. She felt nakedly female, open, willing, while he felt hard and manly and ready to claim her.

She sighed and her breath caught as she gave herself over to him completely.

Tawny’s scent took Stack over the top and he eased her legs open. He settled against her wet cradle. “You smell wet and womanly and ready.” He slid his hands under her soft ass and lifted her against his aching rod. She was wet and open, and he wanted to drive into her fast. But she’d asked for a kiss and the lady deserved to get his best. He gathered the tattered remnants of his control and fell into her eyes.

Fear settled inside him as he watched her. Tawny had seen him with Lila, a woman who called on rare occasions for some down-and-dirty play. Lila was fun and hot, but empty when it came to anything more than a quick ride.

Tawny had shown him over three long years that a woman could be much more. He wanted that
more
that he’d felt with Tawny, he wanted it all.

In a weird way, it came down to this kiss. This personal, intimate, mouth-to-mouth kiss. He didn’t want to mess it up. He wanted her to love kissing him.

A kiss. A nothing little press of lips to lips. A buss. A peck. A meeting of mouths.

The idea of kissing Tawny James made his heart skip several beats. Christ, he’d had his tongue buried in her pussy. Had felt her cunt gush and muscles clench when she came.

But the idea of kissing her felt as if his fate was sealed. His fate bound to hers.

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