LustUndone (10 page)

“
Non, chere
.
” He shook his head. “Tonight I
want to look at every inch of you. Take my time with you. Taste and feel you.”

He urged her backward until she felt the edge of the bed hit
her and he pushed her down onto it, spreading her legs. She was splayed wide
open for him as he contemplated her with open desire. He traced the line of her
jaw, her neck, the swell of her breasts, his hands moving in an unhurried pace
down the length of her, mapping every dip and swell. Every curve.

Her body was humming by the time he reached her ankles, his
thumbs gently rubbing the inside of them. Whoever thought ankles could be an
erogenous zone? He knelt between her outspread legs and delicately licked the
tender skin, sending shivers skating over her. His mouth moved up her legs,
paying careful attention to her knees and the inner flesh of her thighs. By the
time he reached her pussy she was ready to launch herself at him, the need for
his tongue to lap everywhere ratcheting through her like a wild thing.

But Clint seemed determined to take his time, tasting her,
petting her, his lean hands holding her thighs apart to give him full access to
her.

“Yesss,” she hissed, when he leaned over her and used his
thumbs to spread the lips of her cunt. “God, yes.”

“I can’t wait to taste you,” he murmured, his breath a warm
breeze fanning over her drenched folds.

At the first stroke of his tongue over her throbbing clit
she arched off the bed, pushing herself against his mouth. Clint used his
forearms to hold her down, keep her in place while he lapped at her bundle of
nerves with excruciating slowness. Electricity shot through her, sizzling her
nerve endings and striking sparks into the coil of lust low in her belly. He
held her helpless as a pinned butterfly while he tormented that hard little
knot, pulling at it with lips and teeth while frustration pounded through her.

When finally he thrust his tongue inside her, a long, slow
glide, an orgasm broke over her, her inner muscles clamping down on his tongue.
She clutched the covers in her fists while the spasms shuddered though her.
Clint never stopped the thrust of his tongue, in and out, as she poured into
his mouth, over and over.

She had barely recovered when he rose enough to push her
farther back on the bed and climb up to stretch out next to her. In a moment
his fingers were playing at her very sensitive clit, teasing it lightly, while
his mouth took hers in a predatory kiss. She tasted herself on his lips and
tongue, her own musky flavor blending with his.

She was still so sensitive from her climax that just the
touch of Clint’s fingers stroking the lips of her pussy and whispering over her
clit fired every nerve dancing beneath the surface of her skin.

“Mmm,” she moaned, trying to twist away from him. Catch her
breath. Give her body a moment to recover.

Apparently that wasn’t even close to what Clint had in mind.

His clever fingers pinched her clit and thrust into the hot
swell of her cunt, urging her up the spiral again. Her body responded to his
silent coaxing, the muscles of her lower tummy clenching and tensing. Another
orgasm was building slowly inside her, like the flame of a newly built fire as
it catches on kindling and dry tinder.

But just as she began to ride his hand he stopped, sliding
his fingers from her body. They glistened with her juices. He carefully painted
her nipples then her lips with her cream.

“Taste yourself,” he growled, eyes heating as he watched her
slowly run her tongue over her lower lip. Then he pressed his mouth to hers. “I
love kissing this sweet mouth of yours,” he whispered against her lips, “but I
want to feel it on my cock, too.”

With an efficiency of movement he rearranged them so they
were lying on their sides, her mouth at his shaft, his at her cunt.

“Now, Sophia.” His voice was hoarse. “Let me feel you now.”

She wrapped the fingers of one hand around his throbbing
cock, licking the velvety head, dragging the tip of her tongue through the
slit. At the same moment his fingers slid into her pussy again, curling to
reach that sweet spot, the hot button that kicked her into overdrive.

When she slid her mouth down the length of him, feeling the
hot steel beneath the velvet skin, she reached between his thighs and cupped
the heavy sac with his balls. Clint groaned in response, rasping his thumb over
her clit then setting up a slick movement of his fingers in and out of her
clutching pussy.

She was so aroused she could hardly focus on what she was
doing, moving her mouth and hand in rhythm up and down his erection. He filled
her mouth, stretching it to capacity, just as he’d filled her cunt the night
before. Gently she squeezed his balls, extracting another groan from him. His
lips closed over her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her.

She was startled when, without warning, he shifted his hips
and jerked his shaft from her mouth.

“Savin’ it,” he gasped.

But he wasn’t saving her. Shifting his body again, he closed
his mouth over one stiff nipple and sucked on it hard, as his fingers stroked
her to another orgasm. She cried out, the release shattering her, his fingers
relentless in their plunging and stroking, scraping that very hot spot again
and again.

She was limp and gasping for breath, eyes closed, her body
covered with a fine sheen of perspiration, when she felt him leave the bed.
Before she could ask him where he was going she heard the familiar crinkle of
foil over his rough breathing. Then he was back, poised between her thighs,
legs bent back to open her wide to him. The head of his cock pressed against
her opening, thick and hard and hot.

And then with one swift movement of his hips he pumped into
her, filling every space. He paused for a moment, his breath a harsh rasp in
the still air.

“Look at me,
chere
,” he commanded. “I want to look
into your eyes when I take you.”

She opened her eyes and looked into his, seeing them hot and
hungry. “I think you’ve already taken me,” she gasped.

“Not even by half,” he told her. “Wrap your legs around me.”

As soon as she did he moved, driving in and out of her cunt,
slow then fast, hard then pulling all the way out only to drive into her again.
Unbelievably she felt an orgasm gathering power inside her drained body again.
Somehow this man had the power to arouse her over and over.

And then she couldn’t think anymore, only feel. Feel the
power of him inside her, the strength around her. Plunging into her again and
again.

“So hot. So wet. So tight. Hell,
chere
. You might
burn me alive.”

No, he was burning her. From the inside out. He rode her and
rode her, his eyes like hot coals mesmerizing her.

When the orgasm came it shattered them both. One minute he
was driving into her, the next he stiffened and as he did her body convulsed,
her pussy clutching as his cock, dragging every drop of semen from him into the
latex sheath. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into the
small of his back, pulling him into her as tightly as she could. Riding that
hot, hard shaft as it throbbed inside her.

She had no idea how much time had passed before she finally
felt her muscles go lax and she let her legs fall to the mattress. Her heart
was beating like a trip hammer and she couldn’t seem to get enough air in her
lungs. Clint rolled to the side, taking her with him, his cock still inside
her, his hands stroking her back even as he struggled to get his own breathing
under control.

Sophia was completely undone. No man in her life had ever
taken her on such a sexual roller-coaster ride, ever given her so many orgasms,
or devoted himself to her pleasure the way Clint was doing. But what happened
when she left here? Or was she getting ahead of herself? Was this just a few
hot nights in sweaty sheets for him and then she’d be a faint memory? What did
she really know about him, anyway?

“I hear your brain clicking,” he murmured against her ear.
“I must not be doing my job if you can lie here thinking.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “You’re doing your job very well. I
just…”

“Just what,
chere
?” He licked the outer shell of her
ear.

“This all just happened so…fast. So quickly.” She wound her
fingers into the thick softness of his hair.

“Life’s quick,” he told her. “When something like this comes
along you have to grab onto it. You never know when you might get another
chance. Or when it might fall apart.”

She stilled in the circle of his arms. “Are you trying to
send me a message, Clint? That I’m just some temporary amusement for you?”

She tried to pull free of him but his arms just tightened
around her. And his cock still rested inside her, locking them together.

He tensed. “Not even close.” He bit the lobe of her ear.
“Just…sometimes life gets in the way.”

“Like how? I’m just trying to tell you I don’t fall into bed
for wild sex with every man who comes along and you’re trying to tell me the
meaning of life.”

His hand slid up her spine in a slow caress until his
fingers were at her nape, his mouth coasting over her face. “Forget I said
anything. For however long you’re here I want us to be together. Beyond that?
There are some things you’d have to know that I’m not sure how to tell you.”

She studied his face, so close his breath warmed her cheeks.
“Are you married? Have a string of women hidden away somewhere? On the run from
the law?”

He gave a short laugh. “No, nothing like that. I promise
you.”

“Then what could be so terrible?”

He brushed his mouth lightly over hers. “Nothing we need to
think about now. We’ve got something very strong here, Sophia. If it takes us
where I hope it will, then we’ll talk. Okay?”

He slid from her body very carefully and padded into the
bathroom to dispose of the condom. Sophia lay there still limp, unable to move,
her brain whirling but her body telling it to shut up. In seconds he slipped
under the covers beside her and lifted her so she was straddling his chest.

“Hold on to the headboard, Sophia.” His voice was deep with
a dark tinge to it. “You’re gonna need it.”

He shifted her so her pussy was poised right over his mouth,
his tongue snaking out to lick slowly over her swollen lips, and she fell right
back into the raging heat of erotic haze. By the time he was finished with her
she didn’t have a thought left in her head except about this sensuous man and
what he could do to her.

Finally he rolled her to her back, his mouth whispering
kisses over her face, the swell of her breasts, her tummy.

“I have to go, Sophia. You have no idea how much I’d love to
curl up around you and sleep with you in my arms, but you have a team member
right next door to you. I don’t think you want to start answering his questions.”

“You don’t think he noticed you pull up or heard you knock
on my door?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I was careful. And I parked farther down
in the lot.” He kissed her again, just a touch to her forehead. “Maybe tomorrow
night you can tell me more about the details of this killing and why two
investigators from Texas came all the way to Maine to look into it.”

She stared up at him. “Why? You think you can help?” After
all, he was trained military. He might have a different perspective on things.
And he was French in ancestry. Cajun, maybe, judging from his soft drawl. They
believed in things like the devil beast.

“Think about it,” he said, and rose to pull on his clothes.
“Be careful, Sophia. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Before she could respond he opened the door and slipped
quietly into the night.

* * * * *

In less than twenty minutes Clint was home. Frenchy was
sound asleep, thank the lord. He didn’t want to have to think up answers as to
why he was so late getting home two nights in a row. The old man was far too
smart to see through any flimsy story.

Clint stood in the darkened kitchen, ran a glass of water
from the tap and drained it completely, then filled it again. Sex always
depleted him, and sex with Sophia Black just about destroyed him. It took every
bit of discipline he could muster in the heat of orgasm to keep the wolf at
bay. The animal growled constantly inside him, aroused by Sophia’s sensuous
heat.

He could just imagine her reaction if he laid it all out for
her. In Louisiana it might not matter, a place where secret creatures and
legends of all kinds lurked. Especially in the bayous and swamps around New
Orleans and Acadiana. The rougarou—half man, half wolf—was a legend told and
retold. The generations of his family, tracing all the way back to when the
English had chased the French out of Acadia in Canada, had wrapped themselves
in the legend, using it to conceal their particular heritage. The Beaudines
were shifters, a condition Clint had grown up with and learned from his parents
how to manage and control.

But when a bunch of drunks had burned down their fish camp
and most of his family with it he’d set out to get as far away from the people
who constantly tormented the swamp dwellers as he could. His thumb had taken
him all the way to Maine, close enough to where his family had come from to
give him a feeling of connection.

But outside Presque Isle he’d run into trouble hanging out
at the back door of The Crown. Frenchy had caught him trying to lift someone’s
wallet and for whatever reason taken him inside, fed him and taken him home to
sleep. Steeped himself in the legend of the rougarou, Frenchy hadn’t been the
least dismayed to discover Clint’s true nature. Instead he’d homeschooled him,
taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and when the time came helped him
enroll in the Army.

Frenchy’d also looked up what herbs Clint would need to keep
the wolf under control since he couldn’t necessarily rip off his uniform when
the urge hit him and go racing around in wolf form. Clint had handled it for
four tours of duty but at the age of thirty-six decided he wanted something
else out of life. He just didn’t know what, except maybe a place to belong once
and for all.