The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (36 page)

BOOK: The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1)
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        A taut tension seized the room, and it was so strong that she was afraid to breathe. Through half-closed lids, gasping, mouth-gaped wide, she eyed him as he went down on his knees between her thighs. He flicked a drugged gaze over her naked form before giving another satisfied groan. As his hands clenched the sides of her thighs, she nearly came undone.      

        Helpless, anxious, needy, she offered no protest as he pulled her body towards him, fully anchoring her calves along his broad shoulders. His hot breath teased the fine hairs as he planted a wet kiss, oh, so right there, she mulled, sucking in a tortured breath.

        With the flick of his tongue, he stole a single taste of her sweetness from her slick folds. “Fuck, Olivia, you taste as sweet as I knew you would---so fuckin’ sweet,” he rasped, clasping her hips firmly, holding her in place against his dangerous assault, and under his hold, she buckled against him. “I want you to give me all of you. Relinquish all control over to me.”

        As his mouth closed over her mound, she released the earth-shattering scream. The waves of intense pleasure rolled through her, and nothing existed outside that sweet mouth, the one that was tearing her apart. But, her pleas and cries only increased his sensual fury, and she became the aggressor, urging him own. On the horizon, through the haze, she found the paradise she sought. “Jarrod,” she sobbed raggedly, clenching her thighs against his head, and as his tongue thrust inside her again, she shattered. “Jarrod!”

        Breathless, dazed, she embraced the storm, riding its high tides, and finally came crashing back down to earth.

        In the darkness, she had no defense, she realized, watching his shadowed form as he moved.

        For he was all that she breathed---

        Now, he stood alongside the bed. “Look at me,” Jarrod demanded softly, closing a firm hand along his hardened shaft. “Look at what you’ve done to me. You’ve stripped me fucking bare---I have nothing left to hide.” He sucked in a tormented breath. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone.”

        Hair wild and untamed, she rose up on the bed, unaware of the bewitching sight that she made. She was a siren, a well-loved woman, on a drugged-high, panting, needing, and wanting more---

        Barely hanging onto any sanity, body naked and flushed, she moved to the bed’s edge before giving him a long appreciative look. Six feet of hard raw male, she thought, inhaling a sharp breath, and slid a glance along his fine, well-built body. Naturally tanned skin, broad shoulders, a six-pack abdomen, strong muscled thighs, calves, and a male organ that was so full and engorged…

        Her green-eyed lover was the only thing that she craved, wanted, or needed.

        His eyes met hers in the darkness. “I want you.”

        “No more than I need you,” she admitted breathlessly, leaving the bed, and stepped before him. She closed a hand over his, the very one holding his shaft. As the hard shudder racked through him, she leaned into him and closed her eyes tight. “And I know that you need and want me just as much.”

       Fisting his hands in her hair, he held her closer to him, only fueling the fiery danger between them. With reluctance, he pulled her hand free from his shaft before making a deep husky sound. “Trust me, baby, I’m barely holding on as it is,” he admitted, still holding her flush against his hard body, and tightened his hold. “I don’t want to rush things.”

        Then, the truth dawned.

       Though he fought to hide it, she sensed his quiet desperation.

        She closed her eyes against her own tears.

        It was if he were afraid to let her go---that she’d flit away into nothingness.

        He was deathly afraid of losing her.

        Not only that---

        It wasn’t just the physical intimacy that he sought, but their emotional closeness as well.

        My poor baby, she mulled, tearing up again.

        Hadn’t he suffered in a world of loneliness for too long?

        And for the longest, they stood there, holding each other, and absorbed each other’s strength. But, pleasure soon overrode the calm, and their bodies began responding to their natural call.

        On a tormented groan, their lips met again, surprisingly, with a gentleness that she hadn’t anticipated. The kiss was long, drugged, and slow, and with each taste, she embedded him deeper into her memory and soul. “I love you so much it hurts,” she whispered against his lips, pulling back. Staring into his face, her tear-filled gaze searched his. “I never want this night to end. Please don’t let it.”

        “Neither do I,” he rasped unsteadily, tracing a gentle finger along her face. “This night belongs to us and no one else. Regardless of what tomorrow brings, there will be no regrets.”

        “Make love to me,” she pleaded desperately, and began leaving a string of wet kisses along his broad chest. “Please, Jarrod---”

        On a breathless gasp, he swept her up into his arms, and she clung to him as his lips claimed hers in a burning kiss. The cool sheets touched her backside once again, and his shadow fell over her as he followed her down.

        Skin to skin…

        Contact to contact…

        Fingers upon flesh…

        Kisses of fire…

        Nothing existed outside of them.

        Uncontrollable---yes, that’s what they were, she realized through her fogged state, watching as his head descended, just before his mouth closed around a puckered nipple. Somehow, the breath managed to breach past her air-starved lungs, escaping in desperate gasps between her clenched teeth. Over the rise of her heaving breasts, she watched his slow descent, and then closed her eyes against the mind-blowing sensations as his mouth reached her private area again. Shame, she had none, she thought desperately, clenching her thighs against his head, holding him in place again. “Jarrod,” she pleaded, panting fast against his sinful ministrations, and trembled violently. “Oh, please…”

        As his head came up fast, she moaned in protest, but the wicked gleam in his eyes promised further pleasure. “Oh, please what, my sweet Olivia?” he rasped, dipping his tongue into her navel and laved it with a kiss. “Don’t you realize that I’m the only man who can give you what you want?”

        Through half-closed lids, she watched as he ascended up her body, making devilish promises along his way. Bracing his arms alongside her body for support, he loomed over her, and the darkness of the room only made him seem edgier and dangerous. His head dropped low, leaving only the whisper of a breath between their lips. “I want you to taste your own madness,” he taunted, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth, and then thrust his tongue into her mouth for a deep kiss. Moaning deeply, she held on, and when they broke apart for air, he taunted her again. “Taste the essence of you---
this is what I do to you
.”

        At his words, their lips met again, demanding even more.

        The scent of their lovemaking filled the room.

        Their desperate mingled breaths killed the silence.

        Finally, all the teasing games were over.

        All they knew was each other.

        With a dangerous slowness, she slid her hands over his sweat glistened skin, and as she touched her lips to his collarbone, she tasted its saltiness. His heavy body covered hers, and with all her fantasies, nothing had prepared her for the intensity of the moment. Parting her thighs wider, raising them alongside his hips, she cradled his huge form, and with a deep shudder, he pulled her closer.

        Whispering his name, releasing soft pleas, she trailed her hands further, finally reaching his taut hips. As his mouth closed over a breast again, she sank her fingers deep into his buttocks. Desperate, pleading, she closed her eyes against the rising pleasure before forcing a hand between their slick bodies. As her hand closed around his rigid shaft, his entire body quaked in response.

        “Baby,” he rasped, body rigid, staring down at her. “What are you---”

        “I know what you’re doing,” she accused him, holding his stare, and began sliding her hand along his shaft in subtle movements. “Stop denying yourself the true pleasure of really being with me.”
        “Damn it, Olivia,” Jarrod said through clenched teeth, and sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought for control. “I---”

        Raising her head from the pillow slightly, she captured his lips, pulling him into another deep searing kiss. “I won’t let you deny yourself. Let go, Jarrod, just let go,” she pleaded, biting his lip. “Let go….oh!”

        In one swift movement, he plunged into her deep.

At his deep intrusion, she dispelled a gasp of wild pleasure, and for a moment, he didn’t move. Desperate, pleading, she dug her nails into his hips, and whispered at his ear, “Please, Jarrod…I---I”

        With one deep thrust, he left her mindless and her words ended. Over and over, he drove into her, feeding their desperate madness. Gripping his hips firmly, she held on. But, still, they couldn’t get close enough.         Releasing a guttural growl, fisting his hands in her hair, he pinned her deeper into the bed’s mattress. Spurred by her own desperation, she wrapped her legs around him, allowing him to plunge deeper. His thrusts were deep and perfectly-timed, and whatever little sanity that she’d had remaining, she lost it in that very moment.    The tide rose, threatened to take her over, and finally, she threw herself headfirst into the crashing waves. As the pleasure washed through her, she cried out his name. Somewhere at the far corners of her passion-fogged state, she heard her own name called.

        Only the remembrance of their embrace mattered…

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

        Satisfied that the rode was still intact and placed, Jarrod stood before casting a look upon the dawning day. Though it’d been hours since the storm had passed, the dark heavy clouds lingered overhead and a light rain fell from the sky. Bare-chested and clad in nothing else but jeans, he was careful before padding across the deck to the helm. After switching on the monitor, he checked the radar and nautical distance. Naturally, the storm had taken him off course, but the worst was over.

         “What was I thinking?” he sighed, releasing a shaky breath, and stared unseeingly into the distance. As an avid sailor, he fully understood the dangers of a violent storm, but like a fool, he’d willingly gone straight into one. Anyway, hadn’t he done what he did best---running away? But, there wasn’t a distance great enough that could keep him from the inevitable truth that he loved Olivia.

         More than he’d loved any woman, he realized.

         A mutual obsession had pulled them both in, and together, they were pure fire.

         While the storm had raged outside, they’d been hurled into a sensual tempest.

         Their desire had been insatiable.

         And the endless times that they’d made love---

         So enamored they’d been, he lost count after awhile, too selfishly absorbed in what they’d found together. Exhausted, spent, she’d fallen asleep in his arms, and like a besotted fool, he’d watched her as she slept, taking in her every breath with her. Then, he’d taken leave and come on deck to gather his scattered thoughts.

         He took in an unsteady breath.

         Falling in love had never been part of the plan.

         Yet, here he was----

         Suddenly growing restless, he broke away from the helm and headed for the deck below. After making a quick descent down the short steps, he reached the salon, and upon entrance, made way to the galley.

        He was careful to keep as he maneuvered around, and he had a clear destination in mind. After wrenching the cabinet door open, he spotted what he was looking for and grabbed the bottle of bourbon. With a fast twist he’d removed the cap and started drinking straight from the bottle. As the alcohol burned his throat, he closed his eyes shut against its sting.        

        Minutes later, cradling the half-empty bottle loosely in his left hand, he treaded for the sleeping quarters, and once reaching his room, he stopped in the doorway.

        A subtle darkness stole the scene though it was early morn. The scent of their lovemaking lingered in the room still.

        From the threshold, he took in her sleeping form.

        Again, he was sucker punched.

        “Damn you for making me want you so much,” he whispered, tortured, and raised the bottle to his lips again. Yet, it did nothing to lessen his desperate need and want, and like a helpless fool, he caved into it.

        A second later, he was standing alongside the bed.

As he took another drink, he froze, hypnotized by the sight that she made. The crumpled covers barely hang over her breasts, and by gads, it outlined her voluptuous form to perfection. Even now, he remembered the feel of being inside of her, exploding within her sweet haven---

        “Fuck,” he hissed, closing a free hand over the bulge in his jeans, and sucked in a ragged breath. Keeping his green eyes riveted on her, he removed the jeans before drinking the remnants of alcohol from the bottle. Still, the alcohol did little to numb his rising pleasure, but he forced himself to calm.

    After their amorous escapades last night, she did need some rest.

        He placed the empty bottle on the night table.

        Rather than climbing right in, he watched her. “I love you, Olivia Lange,” he whispered to the silence, and the hard tears burned his green eyes. “I know that I don’t have the right to, but I do.”

        The bed sagged under his weight as he climbed in, and like a magnet, she gravitated to his warm body. “Jarrod,” she mumbled sleepily, not opening her eyes, and snuggled closer. “I love you.”

        “I know, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss atop of her head. “It’s early yet---get some rest.”

        At her soft snore in response, he gave a half-grin.

        Minutes later, her rhythmic breathing was all he felt against him, but sleep evaded him still. Perhaps his mind was too full, he mulled, caressing her soft skin gently with his hand. Or rather, he was afraid that if he let go, she’d be gone---vanished.

        Taking a shaky breath, he tightened his hold around her, and forced himself to relax.

        This thing they had---

        No longer did he have to strength or desire to fight it. As he embraced the thought, sleep claimed him.

        Awhile later, he awakened to a world of wicked pleasure.

        A soft voice coaxed him, and all the while the movements along his engorged organ quickened. As the soft hand tightened around his erection, he threw an arm over his head and groaned in pleasure, but still didn’t open his eyes. “Olivia,” he breathed raggedly, lifting his hips from the bed, intensifying the mind-blowing pleasure. Just when he thought he’d explode and meet a desperate fiery end, the hand fell away.

        The body meshed against his side was soft, warm, and pliant. He kneaded the soft hips and received a breathless gasp in response.

        At the dark cresses of his mind, he sensed her desperate need. Needing no further encouragement, eager himself, he hauled her across his chest.

        Through half-cracked eyes, he met Olivia’s passion-slumbered stare.

        And damn, she was sexy---

        Passion-swollen lips, hair mussed, love bites marring her delicate flesh---

        “I want you so fucking much,” he breathed again, feeling his erection harden further. “Damn you for making me want nothing else.”

        “I want you, too. Just as much or more,” she whispered, haunted by her desire, straddling him, and as the fire danced in her brown eyes, he realized that she enjoyed the position. Leaning down, she bestowed a single kiss across his full lips, and her breath teased them as she spoke. “You’re the only thing that I want to breathe in.”

        Clasping the back of her head, he held her in place, deepening the kiss. Her tongue snaked in, challenging him. As he stroked his tongue against hers, she shuddered against him violently, and he sensed her need again.

        Fuck, he hissed inwardly, moving beneath her, and slid a hand up her left thigh. All he wanted to do was sheath himself inside her until his soul was afire.

        He was hard as hell.

        He sucked in a ragged breath.

        Already, she was probably dripping wet---

        “No,” she whispered, breaking away from the kiss. “Not yet.”

        “Damn it, Olivia,” he rasped in a shaky breath, raising his hips from the bed, and again, he feverishly pondered if he’d be able to hold the erection much longer. Her innocent ministrations were making it increasingly hard to do so, but he understood that she still needed some patience. For she was still learning herself as a woman. “Are you trying to kill me?”

        As she laid a finger against his lips, her eyes searched his. “Let me show you how much I want you---please,” she pleaded softly, and he sensed her quiet desperation again. “Close your eyes.”

       
He struggled to see past passion’s haze, but couldn’t. Embracing the blind trust that she invoked, he did as she bade.

        He grasped the bed railing behind his head.

       Something said it was going to be one hell of a ride.

        Whispering his name softly, she left the straddling position, and her hair was feather light as it trailed along his chest. Along with it, her lips followed, leaving their own trail of sweet destruction.

        A hard shudder racked his body.

        Still, he fought to hold on.

        “I love you,” she whispered, planting a wet kiss, just above his navel. “You’ll never understand how much.”

        In a slow movement, with her tongue, she traced a circle around his navel, and then dipped her tongue in.

        His hands tightened along the rails.

        A desperate growl left him.

        And now, he groaned, throwing his head back.

        She was right there----

        At the source of his heat---

        His desperate fire---

        But, evidently, she was intent on torturing him further, he realized, as she closed a gentle hand along his sacs and kneaded them gently, whispering his name all the while. Though he tried, he couldn’t hold back his response and lifted his hips from the bed.

        Against his thighs, he felt her pleased smile.

        A feather light kiss---

        Here----

        There---

        And then---

        Like a suction trap, her mouth closed over him.

        She took him in.

        On instinct, his hard thighs parted further, allowing her greater access.

        Oh, her sweet mouth, he panted hard, lifting his hips.

        She stayed him with a gentle hand.

        Delirious with pleasure, he clenched his jaw tight, eagerly awaiting her next moves.

        Her sweet assault---

        It was long and deep.

        Fast, then slow.

        And the slow, he realized, drugged, it was absolutely, fucking tearing him to shreds.

        Desperate now, he forced his eyes open.

       As he did, he met his destructive end.

        The sight of her---

        Between his hard thighs---

        The feel of her sweet lips, he groaned, clasping her head to hold her in place.

        It was too fucking much---

        “Olivia!” he growled, bucking beneath her, and embraced his fiery end.

        In that breathtaking moment, all of his defenses tumbled down, and all he understood was what he felt. He was bare and wide open, more so than he’d ever been. The dizzying lights blinded him as he closed his eyes tight against the burning pleasure. Helpless, defenseless, he shuddered violently as he exploded in her mouth.

     At the back of his mind, he heard her soft, but desperate pleas. Growling, releasing the railings, he hauled her up, and she did little to protest.

        Their gazes clung in the semi-darkness.

        In the mind space, they realized their obsession.

        His movements were swift as he adjusted their positions.

        “You’re going to pay for that, sweetness,” he rasped hoarsely, flipping her until she lay flat on her stomach. Bracing his arms alongside her, he held himself above her, and then, he whispered at her ear.      “I’m going to return it to you ten-fold.”

        “Jarrod,” she whispered, biting her lip, and released a pent-up moan. It was obvious that she was reaching the point of no return. “What are you going to do?”

        “I think you know what I’m going to do, and you’re already wet with anticipation, aren’t you, baby girl,” he taunted, finally settling his hard body on hers, and felt his erection against her hip. He groaned out loud at the intimate contact. “I’m going to make love to you until you’re fucking crazy with need and want. You’ll beg for my mercy.” His words were deep and low. “But, I will never give it you.”

        At his wicked promise, she trembled violently, and again, he sensed her need.

        And wasn’t his greater, he mulled, shuddering in response.

        In one fluid movement, he entered her from behind, but forced himself to still. Again, she had to adjust to a new sexual position.

        Not only that---

        He had to deliver as promised.

        In the darkness, her eyes filled with wonder and surprise.

        Holding her in place, he made a long and slow thrust.

        “Jarrod,” she gasped helplessly, biting her lip, and her eyes fluttered shut. The sheer pleasure on her face nearly made him come apart. “Oh, oh…”

        Her insides clutched him tightly, clamping him, oh so right, he breathed hoarsely, forcing himself to keep the slow rhythm. And it was worth every second, he mulled, relishing the sound of her breathy responses.

        “Please, Jarrod. I need you.”

        At her plea, he gave fast thrusts.

        Her mouth gaped open wide, and another round of desperate pleas escaped her lips. “Oh…please…Jarrod…”

        “How much do you need me, baby?” he breathed at her ear, slowly increasing his thrusts until he reached a satisfied tempo. “Do you need me this much?”

        She bit her trembling lips. “Yes,” she gasped helplessly, pushing up on both forearms, and he rose with her until he was on his knees. As he stopped his rhythmic pacing, she protested. “Please, Jarrod---don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

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