Claimed by the Mate, Volume 1 (13 page)

BOOK: Claimed by the Mate, Volume 1
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It would only take a single step and everything between them could change. Would change, because she knew she would be a different woman after sex with Cain. She wouldn't call it making love. She couldn't call it anything but sex, but she wanted it just the same. Wanted it so damned much.

“Cherry?” Cain's voice was so deep she knew what she heard was the result of desire thrumming in his veins—the same desire that sizzled in hers.

She smiled and, for the first time in her life, felt powerful. “Cain?” She took a step toward him, not the least bit intimidated.

He held up his hand, as if reaching for her. His fingers trembled. “I don't want you to think that I planned this, but I have protection in my pack. Of course”—he shrugged and gave her a disarming smile—“I want you, obviously.” He glanced down at himself, his erection easily visible in the clear water, “But only if you feel the same way.”

“Will you kiss me?” She couldn't believe that was her voice, that those were her words. Her desires—and she was actually putting voice to them.

Cain stepped closer, moved into her space, and she swore the heat off his body was even hotter.

“I was actually planning on that, regardless.” He slipped one hand around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. He was tall—at least six two—and his cock rested against her stomach. The wet hair on his chest was a slick and springy abrasion against her breasts. The same coarse hair on his thighs tickled her legs, and the heat from his shaft branded her belly. He pulled her close, lifted her against him. She stared into his eyes as his lips came down on hers.

Green eyes, as green as the pines in the forest, flecks of blue and gold this close, and then his mouth was on hers, his lips pressing, his tongue testing the seam between her lips until she opened to him. It was a vacation fling, a chance meeting with a guy who made her so damned hot; it was nothing, and everything, and her body went liquid in his arms.

He gripped her buttocks with his big hands and lifted her higher. She tightened her grasp on his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him, holding him close, preternaturally aware of the hot length of his cock resting between her legs, so hot that the water in the pool was suddenly icy in contrast.

She clutched his shoulders; their mouths sealed, their tongues twisted and explored until she finally broke away only long enough to breathe, long enough for Cain to whisper, “Condom,” in a ragged voice.

He carried her to the shore and, still holding her with one arm, reached for his pack, dug through the thing one-handed, and pulled out a foil packet.

Chapter 12

She'd never had sex with a guy wearing protection. She'd had sex once in her life and not again, not since she was an eighteen-year-old virgin and the guy she thought loved her took what he wanted and then publicly humiliated her. Memories flashed into her mind, memories she'd never been able to bury, but Cain's hold on her tightened and he paused, holding her close, gazing into her eyes with an expression of care and concern.

“Cherry? Are you afraid? We don't have to do this.”

“No, I'm not,” she said, holding him close. “Yes. We do.”

He turned and set her on the rock at the edge of the pool. “We don't, sweetheart. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Cain, I'm going to be totally honest with you.” He had no idea how hard it was for her to tell him this, but she wanted him to know why she had so many hang-ups, why she was such a freak. “I'm twenty-eight years old and I've had sex once. Just once, with a guy I thought loved me. He didn't. To him I was a joke and he made a point of letting everyone know how horrible I was in bed—except it wasn't in bed. It was the backseat of his car.” Her voice broke, and it took everything in her to finish what she needed to say. “That's my only memory of sex with anyone.” She couldn't stop the tears. She hadn't wanted to dump this on Cain, but he needed to know what kind of basket case he was dealing with. “I want a good memory. I think that can be you. I hope it's you. Please?”

“Ah, Cheraza, my sweet Cherry. Tomorrow you give me the bastard's name and address and I will personally take him out.” He smiled at her. “I can ensure a long and painful death.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and laughed. Actually laughed, and it felt so damned good. “Thank you. I may take you up on that. Now, I really want to get back to what we were doing.”

“So do I.” His laughter was ragged, that of a man on the edge. “You have no idea.”

He sheathed himself and leaned over her. It was shallower here by the edge, and he stood between her legs in water that reached his hips. Her legs were in the water, and he laid her down so that her back pressed against the smooth surface of sun-warmed granite. There were a few fluffy clouds floating by overhead, and birds flitted about the trees along the creek. A hawk screeched in the distance, water rushed into the pond, splashing over rocks and fallen trees, and Cain was there, leaning over her, kissing her, and then sliding lower, using his hands to plump her breasts, sucking first one nipple and then the other, and it felt so good she moaned. Actually moaned, lying on a sun-warmed rock in the woods with cool water up to her thighs and a gorgeous man between her legs.

She couldn't believe this was happening to her, until Cain moved lower and put his mouth between her thighs. She gasped, sucked in a breath, and tangled her fingers in his long hair. He licked and sucked, twirling his tongue between her labia and then circling her clit, teasing her until she was ready to scream.

She whimpered and Cain raised his head. “Ready, Cheraza? It's been a long time for you, sweetheart. I want to be sure you're ready. I don't want to hurt you.”

She let out a huff of breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, raised her head, and glared at him. “The only one who's going to be hurt is you if you don't get busy and finish what you started.”

“Yes, ma'am!” He ran his tongue between her folds once again and then slid up over her. The thick crown of his penis pressed between her legs, but he rested there, not pushing forward, just holding himself at her entrance. “You're sure,, Cheraza? I want you to be sure, because I have a feeling that once we do this, I won't let you go.”

He sounded so serious, his voice, his words, pulled her out of the sexual haze holding her almost immobile.

She opened her eyes and he was right there, his mouth so close, his gaze intense. “I don't think I've ever wanted anything more, Cain. I don't want to beg, but I will. Now, please?”

“Yes.” His voice was rough with passion. His eyes held hers with laser focus, and he cupped her face in his hands. “This isn't going to be just sex, Cheraza. You had sex with that other guy. Not with me. We are making love. A beginning, okay? Will you think of this as a beginning?”

He didn't force an answer. Instead, he clasped her shoulders and his gaze never left her face as he surged forward. She was so wet, so ready, yet he entered her just enough to ensure he was going to fit. She felt the stretch and burn and remembered what it had been like so many years ago. Pain when the guy forced himself inside without preparing her for his entry, and while he was much smaller than Cain, he'd hurt her, and she'd bled.

Cain was so careful, taking it slowly, in a bit and then out, then in a little deeper. By the time he'd buried himself completely inside, they were both panting with the effort, with the pure sensation of connection.

He'd been right. This was a beginning. Cherry wasn't sure where it would lead. In the back of her mind, somehow she knew that what they did now was more than Cain making love to her. She felt Brad here as well, not between them, but part of them. The next time they came together, would he be with them? She wrapped her arms around Cain and held him close to her while he rested, regaining control, giving her time to fully accommodate his size.

She gazed up at him, at the strain etched in his features, the feral intensity in his eyes, and accepted that while she hardly knew him, she felt so safe, so entirely in sync with him, there was no fear. No hesitation. “When we do this again,” she said, “Brad will be with us?”

Cain's smile changed everything about him. He was handsome and intense, a little scruffy with his long hair and clipped beard, but when he smiled this openly she felt as if he'd given her a gift, a sense of the man behind the laughter. It hit her then, a feeling so powerful it left her light-headed—she could love this man.

She could love Brad, as well.

She tilted her hips and, with that simple lift, invited Cain deeper.

“Thank you,” he said. Then he laughed, and he began to move. She caught his rhythm and their bodies seemed to flow, one into the other. Together they were flawless and she reveled in that amazing synchronization, the way they fit so well together, the way each seemed to know exactly what the other needed.

She could do this forever—at least that's what she thought—until he tilted his hips just a bit and managed to find some magic spot deep inside, a part of her that was obviously the seat of all pleasure, because what had been a lovely, almost leisurely sensual journey had suddenly become a race, one that Cain started and Cherry knew she had to finish. Sensations rippled from her clit to her breasts and back again. Her toes began to tingle, her breath caught in her lungs, and suddenly, without enough warning at all, she was flying, her body arching beneath Cain's as the two of them crested that hill and flew together.

She cried out and birds in the trees overhead took flight. Cain shouted. A curse? A cry? She couldn't tell, only that he pulsed hard and deep inside her, his hands clenched her hips with enough force to bruise, and when he collapsed on top of her it took him a moment to realize he'd fallen hard enough to knock the air out of her.

Laughing, she shoved him to one side as he lifted himself away from her. He rolled to his back, lying beside her on the rock, laughing and gasping for air. It took him a few minutes to catch his breath, and when he did he turned his head until his face was inches from hers.

“Wow.”

She grinned at him. “That's all you're going to say? ‘Wow'?”

He took a couple of breaths. “Hell and holy shit, woman. What do you expect? Wow.”

She sighed dramatically, in spite of the fact that her inner muscles were still clenching in the aftermath of a most amazing climax. “I guess I expected more eloquence. I mean, that was pretty spectacular, you know? Or is it always that way?”

The smile on his face disappeared. “It's never been that way, Cheraza. Not ever for me. I hope you realize, I am not letting you go.”

He rolled over and reached for another condom. He was still hard.

Over the course of the afternoon, she lost track of how many times they made love, though the unfiltered thought in her head was that they'd probably still be fucking like bunnies if Cain hadn't run out of condoms.

Later, lying on the sun-warmed granite, Cherry noticed shadows beginning to creep across their sunny spot. She had no idea how long they'd been out here, but the day was passing and they'd have to get up and get dressed at some point.

Cain rolled to one side and propped his chin on his elbow. “Cheraza? When you asked me if Brad and I were gay a little while ago…”

She couldn't have kept a serious expression on her face for anything. “I think you've convinced me you like women, Cain. I may never walk again.”

He smiled at her, white teeth against tan skin, lips slightly swollen from kissing. She touched her mouth and wondered if—

“The thing is”—he interrupted her thought with a smile and the gentle stroke of his fingertip along the line of her jaw—“we don't want women, plural.” He gazed at her so intently, so passionately, her heart bolted. It pounded in her chest, thundered in her ears.

“You see, Cheraza, our dream has always been to find one woman, a very unique woman we can both love. One who will love us.” He took her hand and played with her fingers. She was almost preternaturally aware of the strength in his hands—hands now intimately familiar with her body.

She looked at their joined hands, thinking of what he'd just said.

When she raised her head, he was gazing fiercely into her eyes, the moment so powerful that she wrapped her fingers tightly around his and held on.

“That is,” he said, speaking so softly she could barely hear him, “until we met you. It's too soon to know if what we feel is love, and we have no idea how you feel about us, but what I'm trying to say…” He dropped his gaze, slowly shaking his head. “And obviously, not doing it very well…” He looked at her once again. “Is that we'd like to explore a relationship with you. Not just a vacation fling while you're here, but beyond this week. We've talked about you. A lot.” He grinned then, a huge smile that lit up his face. “We want to spend more time together, exploring…” He let out a deep breath. “Everything.”

She opened her mouth, realized she had no idea what to say, and shut it just as Cain's finger touched her lips. Shaking his head, he said, “No. Don't say anything now. I'm unfair to throw this at you so quickly, and for that I apologize, but one week is such a short time. Think about it. About us. Will you do that?”

She'd certainly not expected anything like this. Even a few days ago, such a suggestion would have had her running far and fast the minute he'd said what he and Brad were contemplating. Except hadn't she already been thinking of just this? She was curious enough to agree with Cain, to actually consider pursuing whatever it was he suggested.

Could she really be the right woman for two strong men such as Cain and Brad? Could she handle the convoluted ties that had to be part of a long-term ménage? It would entail so much change beyond the relationship. If they were involved, she'd have to move up here and live in the middle of nowhere, and what of her job? She really loved what she did and she could do it from anywhere, but they didn't even have cell service here, not to mention high-speed Internet, and—

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