Pleasure Me (6 page)

They kissed with the urgency of war-torn lovers separated for decades, their fingers pushing into each other’s hair, palms cupping skulls, holding tight. He thrust his tongue into her mouth first.

Screw that.

She pushed his tongue aside to fill his mouth with hers, taste his exquisite flavor, like no one else’s on earth. A man, a wolf, she’d been born for. But there was still her bruised heart to consider. Sex was all she could handle now. Love wasn’t even in the equation at this point. Maybe ever.

Too much had happened.

Crap, she didn’t want to remember bad times. Growling as he had earlier, she dove in for more, her kiss frantic enough for her teeth to cut into her bottom lip. She ignored the pain, struggling to get closer. He allowed her raging lust for a moment before taking command like the kickass guy he was, filling her mouth sure and deep. On an indistinct moan, she slung her leg over his and ground her pussy into his shaft.

Wylder rolled them over and tore his mouth free. His hair swung forward, skimming his cheeks. He grabbed his cock.

“No.”

He glanced up, eyes practically bulging. “What?”

“Not yet. Wait.”

“For what?”

“I want to look at you.”

“What—why?”

“Because I do.” She’d waited twelve long years for this and wasn’t going to endure a second longer. She shoved him as hard as she could.

Caught off guard, he windmilled his arms to stop himself, failed, and crashed over her leg to the grass. She crawled to his side before he could budge. “Don’t move.”

He stared up at her. “Why are you doing this? I’m in pain here.”

And she wasn’t? She spoke through her teeth. “I’m only asking for a minute.”

“Fine. You have sixty seconds. One, two, three—”

She smacked his arm and leaned back to take him in. Her breath spilled out on a wanting sigh. The man was perfect, his chest hard slabs of muscle, skin bronzed, tiny nipples the color of ginger, pecs and abs so well defined they were more than sculpted. Chiseled was the only description she could think of with the word still falling short of how perfect he was.

Her mouth watered.

A silky line of dark hair ran beneath his navel to his groin, his thatch thick and fragrant. His cock jutted from the tangle of curls, the column meaty, several veins dashing down its hard length, the crown smooth and engorged with blood, nearly scarlet with his arousal.

He
was
hurting. Showing off, too. He flexed his shaft again. The thing defied gravity, lifting to point at her before falling back on his belly, exposing his balls.

Starr didn’t complain. His sac was plump and lightly furred with short, dark hairs, the same as his muscular thighs and calves. She cupped his boys and sucked in a breath at their weight and heat.

He inhaled sharply, too.

His hair-roughened skin was so male her pussy creamed even more. She fondled his sac, running her thumbnail over one of his nuts.

He gasped. “Holy shit. You’ve seen enough.”

She was on her back again, hair falling away from her face. Instinctively, she turned her left cheek to the ground as she had before. He didn’t notice this time either. Already he was between her legs, his cock tunneling within her in one assured thrust. He jerked his hips repeatedly to go even further. Their bodies smacked.

A bead of perspiration coursed down her temple. Filling her didn’t begin to address what he’d done. He was a freaking mountain of a man, his rod’s girth stretching her more than any other guy’s had. Hell, his cock fucking possessed. She moaned.

He gave her a love bite on her shoulder. She did the same to him. He made a pleased sound and thumbed her clit.

Each pleasure point in her body shot to attention. She shouted. The sound raced through the trees, scaring several birds. They flapped their wings wildly with their frenzied escape. Wylder kissed her again, silencing her newest cries with his tongue. He pumped steadily, a slow slide in and out of her, while also stroking her nub. Every feeling in her settled between her legs. Warmth, tension, and unbearable delight built to an impossible level.

Gawd.
What he was doing to her was too much.

She thrashed and bucked, needing relief. He pounded faster, rubbing her clit more firmly, drawing the inevitable close. His heat poured into her, caressing her heart, reaching her soul. Longing she’d denied for too long rose from the depths of her being, blending with raw carnal hunger, a desire for him to ravage, fuck her raw until she couldn’t walk, wouldn’t think, couldn’t question.

Leaving her to do nothing except feel.

The first swell broke, washing over her with the strength of a tsunami, currents of pleasure streaming past her pussy to her belly, throat, fingers, and toes. Another flood followed, the bursts of feeling intense and electrifying.

She pulled her mouth free of his, gulping air. A pulse ticked crazily within her core, sucking his cock deeper.

He was still hard, hadn’t come. His shoulders were bunched, complexion flushed, face and chest damp with sweat. He cleared his throat. “You okay?”

She wheezed in another breath. “Yeah. How about you? What’s wrong? Why didn’t you come? Wait. Let me help.” She squeezed her inner muscles around his shaft as hard and as quickly as she could.

He gasped. “Stop, now,
please.
”

“Why?”

“I’m going to come.” He panted. “I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

He lifted his chin to the sky. “I want this to last.”

What?

“Shit. I can’t wait. Shit.” He rested his hands on her knees and pushed her legs back for greater access, his cock burrowed as far as possible within her depths. “Hang on.”

Chapter Four

He would have given his soul to prolong his climax for hours, days even. If he could shift from man to wolf, why couldn’t he do anything else miraculous? All he was asking for was more time after having waited too long for these precious moments.

Ah.

His head fell forward. Her pussy’s snug fit imprisoned him, the smooth expanse of her channel gloriously hot, wonderfully slick with her excitement. Their curls touched, exchanging their scents before Wylder pulled back. She squeezed her inner muscles around him, holding on, creating unspeakable friction. A bolt of pleasure shot from his cock to the top of his head, tingling his scalp. He shuddered.

She squeezed again. Smiled, too.

His grin felt like a grimace. Sweat poured down him. His muscles tensed to the point of pain. Wasn’t anything close to the agony in his poor balls. Those babies shrieked for relief.

No. Fuck no.
This had to last. He had to prove he was the man, the only guy on earth who could bring her to multiple, screaming orgasms.

He gathered what scant control he had left and brushed his fingers over her clit.

Air hissed through her teeth. She forgot to squeeze his shaft, squirming instead at his teasing strokes. Light then hard. Slow and fast. His uneven moves kept her from knowing what to expect next.

He plunged his cock into her again. Their bodies touched. Her boobs shook. She whipped her head from side to side and stopped abruptly then turned her face to the left as she’d done before.

Hiding that part of her.

Oh, baby.

He slowed his thrusts and brushed his lips over her right cheek, her skin softer than kitten fur. He planted a tender kiss there and on the side of her mouth, finally licking away the chocolate smear.

She giggled.

Hot damn, he’d made her happy once more. After tonguing and suckling her nipples, he got back to business, pumping like a madman, while also stroking her clit. Her face turned red. He lost what restraint he had left.

She yowled in release. He roared, the sound more animal than man, an explosion of warmth, pleasure, and feelings he didn’t know he had whisking through him. Impossible delight centered in his balls and cock. His cum spurted into her, nuts pulsating rhythmically to release their load. To make her his.

The top of his head was ready to blow off. His ears rang. Everything around them dipped and swayed, making him hopelessly dizzy. He collapsed, barely holding his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her.

She kissed his cheek and caressed his back, damp with perspiration.

He shuddered again, his balls pumping the last of his cum inside.
Crap.
Now, his cock would shrivel up like an old man’s and slip out of her. He wiggled closer to avoid any separation between their bodies. Never again would he allow even the smallest distance between them, at least emotionally.

She eased his hair behind his ear. “Relax.”

His arms were rubbery, shaking like the feeble. “I’m good.”

“You’re way better than that.”

Laughing, he called on the last of his strength and rolled them over until she was on top. The ends of her hair swept across his pecs, tickling him. She returned his smile, hers the same as he recalled years earlier. As though he made the wind blow, rain fall, and snow melt during the spring thaw.

Wow. How lucky could one guy be?

“Want to sleep?” She glided her fingers over his throat and chest, her touch lighter than a sigh. “I’d ask if you needed to, but anyone who can build a candy tree like you did is obviously far above mortal men.”

He laughed weakly. “You liked it? Honestly?”

“Oh yeah. Made me cry. Same as your note.”

His smile wobbled and disappeared. “Tears weren’t what I was hoping for. I was trying to make you happy.”

She ran her fingers down his torso, past his ribs. He squirmed at the tickling sensation. She looked over and stroked him there again. “You did make me happy. With this.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Sex? Not anything else?”

“Wasn’t this good for you?”

How could she ask? His howl of release had the forest creatures diving for cover. Even birds had avoided flying over them. “Yeah, what we did was crazy good, obviously.” He pushed his groin into hers to keep his limp cock inside. “But there’s more to us than this.”

She turned away.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
He cupped her face. She stiffened and pulled out of his touch. He quickly realized his mistake. Without thinking, he’d touched her left cheek. “We need to talk.”

“What? No.”

He rolled them back over again.

“Hey!” Her surprise fell away fast. As she’d done before, she turned her face to the left.

The pulse in her throat beat quicker than his had during his climax. She was stiff and unresponsive beneath him. He should have dropped the subject and simply hoped for more fun but couldn’t. She was his mate. He needed her to invite him into her heart. “What happened in LA? Please tell me. I can see it’s been tearing you apart.”

She squeezed her lids tight. A tear trickled out, trapped in her lashes.

Soul-deep pain centered in his chest. He struggled for the right thing to do or say. Last night he’d congratulated himself on being a poet. Right now, he was helpless against her anguish and tried to comfort as best he could. “No matter what happened, you’ve always been perfect. Still are.”

“No.” She turned to him, eyes shiny with tears. “Not even close. I’m not who I was.”

“Sure you are. A little older, maybe. Thank God.” He smiled briefly. “That’s a good thing.”

“Why are you pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about? You said you wanted to know what happened. Details, huh? Fine. How’s this for a starter?” She turned her face to the right, her hair sliding past her left cheek and ear with the movement.

He warned himself not to react, not even to breathe. His stomach churned.

A jagged scar ran from her cheekbone to jawline, the deep injury leaving a gulley in her once-flawless skin. The top of her ear was also missing. The angry red edge showed a clean cut as though someone had sliced off the section with a knife.

Horror, sorrow, and rage pumped through him. “Who did this to you?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

Her resignation pissed him off even more. He wanted to shake some righteous indignation into her and tear apart whoever had caused her such pain. “It may be over for the SOB who did this, but not you. You’re all I care about. Do you know who did this? Were you mugged?”

Her lids slid down, her walls going up again.

He held back a shout of frustration. “If you think this changes how I feel about you, you’re dead wrong. You’ve always been and always will be the most perfect woman I’ve ever known.”

She chuckled. “You must not know any besides me.”

“You think what I’m saying is funny…or is your behavior not about your scar or what happened?”

“What else could it be about?”

“You don’t want me as much as you once thought you did and don’t know how to spit out the words.”

She clenched her jaw. “I don’t want to get involved with any man ever again.”

What the fuck did she call him lying on top of her with his rod still inside her pussy? Not to mention the candy tree he’d made and his note she’d cried over. Did all of that make them no more than passing acquaintances? “A lover attacked you.” He glanced at the scar. The wound looked deeper and meaner than a few seconds ago. Another surge of white-hot rage hit hard. “Am I right?”

She didn’t answer.

“If you don’t want to talk, at least blink once for yes, two for no.”

“Get off me.”

He didn’t want to, but finally rolled to the side, expecting her to bolt.

She turned to him. “If I tell you what happened will you never bring this up again? And I do mean never.”

Surely she couldn’t be serious. “Do I at least get to ask a few questions?”

She curled her fingers into fists.

Apparently not. “Whatever you say, I’m good. I just want to help.”

“Quit saying that.”

“No.” He cupped the left side of her face and brought her down to him. “You can’t—you won’t make me stop the way I feel.” He fitted his mouth to hers, kissing her tenderly, a slow brush of lips, tongues waltzing. Even their lovemaking hadn’t been this impassioned. Yearning, rather than lust, enriched the moment.