Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance (23 page)

I harnessed enough brain cells to spit out a word.  “Wait.” 
I pushed at his hand.  “You.  I want you.  Inside me when I cum.  Please.”

When he stepped back, his breaths heaved.  “Take your shirt
off,” he said.  Then he reached into his pocket, retrieved a condom, and shoved
down his pants.

I fairly ripped off my shirt, but even so, he was bearing me
back against the door before I flung it away.  I didn’t know where it went, but
I didn’t give a fuck.  I was busy sucking Gary’s tongue into my mouth.

He was just this side of rough.  He lifted me up, pinned me
to the door, and pushed into me.  We both groaned, and then it was a frenzied
race to the finish line.  The door thumped in its frame with each of his
powerful thrusts.  I felt each thick, wonderful inch of him as it pounded into
me.

The feeling quickly blended into a crazed crescendo of
pleasure.  I screamed into Gary’s neck, dimly aware my brothers were still just
a few feet away.  Mocha growled again, and if I’d been paying any attention at
all I might have been gratified she was worried that Gary was killing me.

But my body currently had selective hearing.  I could ‘hear’
Gary’s thick cock buried in me to the root, his hard chest flattening my
tingling breasts, his firm hands on my thighs and buttocks.  I could smell the
sweat on his skin and hear his deep groan as he followed me into the roiling
abyss.

Minutes passed where I was just a trembling mess, and it was
all I could do to breathe, once I recalled how.  Luckily my heart kept doing
its thing, and my vision did eventually come back, so that was good.

Gary set me down before I was entirely ready.  He steadied
me, laughing as I wobbled.  “I was the one holding us both up,” he pointed out.

I grunted; post-coital conversation was not my forte.  I
leaned back against the door, still trying to recover.

Gary scooped up his clothes and walked into the bathroom.  I
heard water running, and when he came back out, he was dressed, and looking as
scrumptious as ever.

I winced as his foot glanced an empty beer bottle.  It fell
with a rattle, then rolled and clanged against a chair leg.

Gary glanced at the brothers.  They hadn’t even stirred. 
“Wow,” he said.  “They are really out.  I thought with some of the noises you
were making we’d be caught for sure, but…”

I started to put my shirt on like pants, but got myself
straightened out before anyone noticed.  I yanked my sleep pants up my legs.  I
had no idea where my underwear had gone, but I’d find them later, I was sure.

I crossed to Gary, and observed my troublemaking siblings. 
In sleep, they should have looked innocent, but mostly they just looked
sloppy.  Zack was sprawled on the floor, naked except for a pair of boxers, his
mouth gaping open like a dead person’s.  Rory’s neck was bent at an angle I was
sure he’d feel in the morning.  His feet were on Zack’s legs, and his shirt had
ridden up to reveal a hairy belly.  J.D. was curled up on the next cushion. 
He’d retained his clothes, but not his dignity; his thumb was trying to find
its way into his mouth.

“They drank
a lot
last night,” I said.

Gary slanted a look at me.  “Do you think they were maybe
couldn’t-even-remember-what-happened-last-night drunk?”

I started nodding, and then my gaze locked with his.

He rubbed his chin.  “Didn’t they… lose your boat?”

“They did,” I said.  “They also cellophaned my toilet, and
drank my beer.  And they stink,” I added, noting the lingering bouquet of ass.

Gary’s grin widened as his eyebrows climbed.  ‘Well?  What
should we do to them?’ his dancing eyes asked.

“We could draw penises on their faces,” I suggested.  “I
have a magic marker around here somewhere.”

“Classic and funny,” Gary said, “but…”

“Yes?”  I’d taken a couple steps toward the markers, but was
arrested by his naughty expression.

“...would you like to
really
humiliate them, and
possibly cause permanent mental scarring?”

I sat at the table, leaned back, and crossed my legs.  “I’m
listening.”

He sat across from me, his grin infectious.  “How about we
position them to make it look like they had sex?  Strip them, arrange them so
they’re spooning, leave a bottle of anal lube lying nearby.  Take some
pictures…” 

“I do like that idea,” I said.  “But.  Problems.  One:  I
get the feeling if my brothers were to wake up spooning, the one in the back
would just give the other a squeeze and whisper softly in his ear, ‘Good
morning, sweetheart’.”

Gary pursed his lips.  “So we make it worse than spooning. 
And even if they play it cool, we will have at least created a niggling doubt,
I guarantee it.”

“We?  That was my next question.  Are they out enough for us
to do this, and were you going to help?  ‘Cuz I can’t lift even half of the
bigger ones.”

“Of course I’ll help,” he said, pushing to his feet. 
“Sounds like fun.”  He crossed to the couch and picked up Rory’s arm.  When he
dropped it, it flopped heavily back to the top of the couch.  Rory didn’t
stir.  He pushed Zack’s feet with one of his own, sliding them unresistingly
across the floor.  Then he picked his way around to J.D.

“I’d be careful with that one,” I said.  “He tends to come
up swinging.”

Gary leaned over and did something to my youngest brother, and
then grinned.  “Yup.  They’re out.”

“Okay.  Lastly:  Anal lube?”

“I can come up with something,” Gary said, coming back
toward me.

“Can you now?”

He dropped into the seat across from me again and met my
gaze.

I felt myself getting flustered, imagining Gary coming at me
with a bottle of anal lube in his hand.  It was another thing I’d researched
and written, but had never actually done.  But I’d do it with Gary.  Maybe I
could write it, and he’d act it out just exactly as he had climbing through my
window.

My mind went to work, fleshing out that scene.  For the
first time, I’d like privacy and a bed, but then we could get crazy.  The
dock.  The canoe.  My fingers itched for my keyboard.

Gary snapped his fingers.  “I lost you for a minute there,”
he said.

I cleared my throat, shifting on my chair.  “We’ll talk
about this later,” I suggested.

“I was kinda hoping we’d do more than talk.”

Just like that, the air between us began to feel charged. 
I’d had him just a few minutes ago, but I wanted him again.  For this
helicopter pilot that’d burned my blueberries, apparently I was insatiable.

He was watching me with that intent look, like he was
reading each thought as I had it.

I jumped to my feet.  “Let’s do this.”

He looked up at me, his muscles tensed to move.

“The brothers,” I added hastily.  “Let’s do them.”  I
winced.  “Arrange them, I mean.”

And we did.  It took about a half hour of heavy lifting and
laughter until we had them arranged to our satisfaction.

“You know,” I told Gary as I straightened up for what I
hoped was the last time, “this would be a lot more convincing if you wanted to
strip down and be sandwiched between them.  That way, when they wake up, you
could say something like, ‘Wow, you guys were great, thank you’.”

Gary snorted.  “It’s a good idea, but yeah, no, I’ll pass.”

I put my hands on my hips, surveying our work.  We’d left
Zack on his back on the floor, though had stolen his shorts.  We’d put Rory on
top of his legs in a folded-down reverse cowgirl, also minus his clothes.  J.D.,
we’d curled around Zack’s head so Zack would wake up with a face full of crotch
and a really bad feeling.

Gary had run over to his place and come back with a bottle
proudly labeled, ‘Anal Lube’.  It was cherry flavored, and that kind of scared
me—but I was sure I’d live.  We’d drizzled it over the appropriate areas so the
whole scene was more convincing, and then left it, uncapped, lying next to
them.

“They’re not the one I’d like to enjoy,” Gary added.

I glanced over at him.

“I have another fantasy, if you’re interested.”

It was after two in the morning, but of course I was
freaking interested.  I could sleep when I was dead.  “I’m listening,” I said,
trying to play it cool.

He walked a little closer, so he was standing just inches
away, looking down at me like he had the day he’d emptied a glass of water on
me.  This time, I held my ground.

“I want to dominate you,” he said.

I
never
would have guessed.  “Yeah?”  Despite my
mental sarcasm, my voice came out breathy.  If I was being completely honest
with myself, I wanted that too.

“Yes.  I want you to surrender to me.  Completely,” he
whispered in my ear.  His knuckles brushed the side of my unbound breast
through my shirt, making me tremble.

I stepped back to get enough room to think. 
Complete
surrender
.  I didn’t know what that involved, but I did like it when he
held me down.  So… what?  He wanted to restrain me, tell me what to do?  I had
problems following orders, but maybe just this once I could manage.  He wanted
to be rough?  Sweet.  I’d actually liked it when he smacked my butt, so I had
no real fear there.

Who was I kidding?  With him looking at me like that, I’d do
whatever he wanted.

“Okay,” I said.

His face was serious, but his eyes danced.  “Get upstairs.”

Quashing my instant impulse to do the opposite, I turned and
walked stiffly to the ladder.

“And keep your clothes on until I get up there,” he said. 
“I want to watch you take them off.”

My shoulders tightened.  “But you just saw me take them
off,” I pointed out, turning my head to look at him.

“Are you arguing with me?” he asked, his voice dangerously
soft.

My skin prickled. 
Yes!  Yes I am!
  “No,” I squeezed
out.

He chuckled.

This was going to be hard, I could already tell.

Chapter
Twenty

“S
hirt
first,” he said.  “Slowly.”

We’d climbed the ladder, and he was facing me at the end of
the bed.

I fingered my shirt’s hem, intent on giving him
exactly
what he wanted.  I inched it over my waist, revealing my pale skin in the
moonlight.  His expression went hungry when I revealed the milky curves of my
breasts.  I languidly pulled the shirt up over my head and let it float to the
floor.

“And the pants,” he instructed.  He was already tenting
his.  It softened me just a little to his demands, knowing what I did to him.

I eased my sleep pants down, letting them slide the last
little bit.  I stepped out of them, completely naked, loving the way he looked
at me.  My body wasn’t perfect—whose was, really?—but he was looking at me like
I was devastating.  My breath came just a little harder, my nipples pebbling in
the cool air.

“Now take off mine,” he said.

I stepped toward him.  Reached out—

“With your teeth,” he said, his lips twitching as he caught
my expression.

Really?
  I sighed as I looked up into his face. 
Apparently, he was going to push me.

But, just this once, I allowed my spine to bend.  I leaned
down and lipped at the hem of his shirt.  I was down near his straining
erection, so I took the opportunity to blow a long, hot breath on him. 
See
what you’re missing?

He groaned quietly, and then I got his shirt in my teeth and
dragged it upward.  He met my eyes when I got up to pec level.  “Good girl,” he
said.

I prickled again.  Maybe when he was inside me, I’d let him
get away with shit like that… 

This is his fantasy, Helly!
I berated myself. 
It’s
just this once, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again. 
Even
if I was having mental doubts about this, my body was 100% on board.  I was
wet, soaked through, warm and tingly pretty much all over.

He eased the cloth from between my teeth, and took the shirt
the rest of the way off.  “And the pants,” he murmured.

I looked down, contemplating.  Then, feeling flippant, I
dropped to my knees before him.

He made an appreciative little sound, and I looked up at him
as I slowly leaned in. 
Oh, he really likes this.
  I slowed down even
more, letting him feel my breath.  I traced the tip of my tongue up his shaft
through the material, and finally took his waistband in my teeth.  I pulled the
elastic waistband down over his cock, my whole body clenching as he sprang free
and brushed against my cheek.

I wanted his cock in my mouth, and was pretty sure he wanted
the same.  Just as soon as I got these damn pants down, he’d order me to suck
him off.  Then I could have him.  He’d melt before me, and it would be
great
. 
I dragged his pants down, and then reached for him.

He stepped back, stymying me.

“But…”

He tossed a grin over his shoulder as he walked away with my
new favorite toy.  He shoved my blankets back and lay down on the bed, propped
up on the pillows, his arms behind his head.

Okay, he wanted a lazy blowjob.  Not bothering to stand, I
crept across the mattress toward him.

“I want you to lick your way down my chest,” he said.

Okay, he wanted foreplay with that lazy blowjob.  I crawled
up next to him.

And then… I got to do that which I’d been longing to for
weeks.  I put my mouth on that smooth golden-tan skin.  With my hair trailing
after, I worked my way from his collarbones across his really nice pecs.  I’d
always thought men’s nipples were funny, but neither of us were laughing as my
tongue flirted with his.

Then, and only then, did I allow myself to follow his happy trail. 
I took the scenic route, tracing the dents between each pair of abs as I worked
my way down.

Anticipation had me in its hold.  I wanted to wrap my hand
around him, feel the heated steel of his shaft.  Taste him, see if the rubber
condom flavor lingered, or the salty flavor of his cum.  I wanted to tease him
mercilessly, and watch his handsome face darken with need.

I locked gazes with him as I moved downward, licking my
lips, letting him see my intention.  My eagerness.

“Don’t touch my dick,” he said.

I froze.  “What?  Why?” I sputtered.

“Because you look like you want to,” he said.  “Kiss
anything but.  My thighs, my knees.  My feet have always been pretty
sensitive.”

Stunned, I sat straight up.  “You want me.  To kiss.  Your
feet
?” 
I shook my head.  “Because I want to lick your cock?”  I’d never heard anything
so silly in my life.  His attempt at domination was to rob himself of my mouth
on his cock?  It was the most bass-ackwards thing I’d ever heard.  Downright
dumb, in fact.

It was insanity, and I didn’t have to put up with it.  He
should be
begging
me for the attentions of my mouth, not finally—
maybe
—allowing
me to blow him.  This right here,
this
, was why women had vibrators.

He grasped my arms, not letting me pull away, and rolled his
eyes.  “Oh, fine.  You want the traditional approach?”

I was about to start cussing when he pushed me belly-down
onto the mattress, and rolled on top of me.  He had me pinned in under a
second, his hands on my wrists, his legs and hips over mine, his chest giving
me just enough room to breathe.  The move was sudden, and incredibly masterful,
and it ground his bare cock against the crack of my ass.

A sudden, insane, absolutely irresistible rush of arousal
hit me like a drug.  I moaned, pushing my butt back against him.

“Huh,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.  “You
like this approach better.”

One of his hands left my wrists, and he dragged his
fingernails down my side in a long scrape that sent a white-hot billow of sensation
through me.  Then he squeezed my hip in a way that made me whimper with need.

His weight shifted, followed by the faint sound of my
nightstand drawer.  I heard a condom packet tear.  The sound was loud in the
silence, and sent a wave of delight from my ears down to my toes.  I knew what
came next.  My hand fisted in the sheets while my body tightened in
anticipation.  He slid to the side, probably putting it on.

Without warning, his hand cracked against my ass.  I gasped,
throbbing as the feeling ricocheted up my spine.

“That’s for being difficult,” he muttered.  Then he rolled
back over me.  He dragged my hips up until I was angled to receive him, and his
sheathed cock began to press into me.  It was large and blunt, the feel of it
galvanizing.  I bucked up against him, trying to get more, faster.  He held me
down.

I turned my head and bit the pillow as he pushed into me. 
The feeling was magnificent.  He was thick, and with my legs closed he felt
almost too large.  I started to spread them to ease the ache, but he pushed
them back together.

He completed his invasion on a hard thrust, one that made me
feel like crawling up the walls.  His hips pressed flush to my still-stinging
ass, and the thick root of him split me wide.  He did his crazy hip-roll, and I
swear I felt him all the way up in my belly.  The feeling was raw, and I loved
it.

He grasped my chin, pulling me so I was looking almost over
my shoulder.  He leaned in—a move accompanied by him pressing so high and deep
I gasped—and kissed me.  The combination of his tongue thrusting in my mouth
and his cock lodged deep in my body made me feel claimed.  Used.  It was
awesome.

I lay there and I let him use me, felt the spot where he
pushed into me become slicker, even more welcoming.  I let him force my mouth
open, let him kiss my breath away.

He groaned, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hips
pressing mine into the mattress.  Our breathing quickened, and I was lost in
that place where there was only sensation.

That’s why I was very confused when he suddenly shifted.  He
moved back slightly and dragged me up onto my knees.  He pushed his way inside
my legs, and I almost cried out when he leaned over me.  He was in me so deep,
it was bordering on uncomfortable.  He pushed my upper body down.  I resisted
at first, but he used firm and steady pressure until I let my elbows fold.

I gripped my pillow, pressing my forehead into it.  My ass
was in the air, and he was between my legs, his hands firm on my hips.  My body
tightened, anticipating him plunging into me like a stallion covering a mare.

It felt a lot like submission.  Surrender.

But before I could get bent out of shape, I became aware of
his hands moving.  They stroked over my hips, my lower back, down my thighs. 
Gentling me.  I felt his cock throbbing, but he held almost entirely still.

I resisted at first.  I didn’t like the loss of control.  He
could do whatever he wanted to me in this position.  He could hurt me.

But I knew he wouldn’t.  I knew he’d only bring me
pleasure.  What he was doing already felt amazing, and he wasn’t hardly doing
anything.  I could put up a fight—or I could let him pleasure me.

With a sigh, I let the tension drain out of my body, and I put
myself in his hands.  I surrendered. 

“Good girl,” he whispered.

I grumbled, but the sound cut off on a gasp as he
moved
. 
He plunged into me, smooth, long, slick strokes, each one balls-deep.  My
thighs trembled around his with the effort of staying wide and open for him,
and with the impact of his strokes.

I clenched the pillow tighter and started to make noises
into it.  I don’t even know how to describe the sounds I made.  Whining,
mewling kitten sounds some of them.  Gasps, whimpers.

This was him telling me he was in charge, and yet…I loved
it.

He leaned over me, changing the angle, hitting some deep,
pleasurable spot as he pressed into me.  His hand slid down my belly, and found
my clit.  He stroked me lightly, just barely flicking his fingertips across my
sensitive bud.  Each stroke, inside and out, was a chord that seemed to echo
through to my very soul.  Each thrust was the drum beat, the tickle across my
clit the thrumming bass.  I throbbed for him, my whole body in harmony.

His pace quickened.  Deepened.  My face rocked into the
pillow with each one of his punishing thrusts.  My breaths came almost in
sobs.  My body was rioting, and my emotions were climaxing right along with it.

He started to do that thing I loved, where he pressed in as
hard and deep as he could go, his hips rotating against me.  I gasped.  And
that’s all it took.

I came, my body clamping down around his.  I jerked, but he
held me still.

He picked the pace back up, plunging into my quivering body,
still stroking my clit.  He moved harder and harder, until it felt like he was
spanking me with each thrust.  My butt burned, the depth was intense, and my
orgasm refused to end.

I got loud—probably even sounded like a dying baby animal. 
But he didn’t quit stroking me.  I moved a hand back to stop him and he grabbed
my wrist, holding it, using it to control me.

My clit felt like it was on fire.  The feeling ran through
my whole pussy, escalating with each violent squeeze of my muscles around him. 
It went on, and on.  I was shuddering, my body turning to jelly.  If he hadn’t
been holding me, I would have slid down into a puddle on the sheets.

And I knew, this was me surrendering even more than before. 
He gave me pleasure when and how he wanted to, as much as he wanted to, and my
only choice was to accept it.  That’s what he was telling me, covering me from
behind, his weight pressing down on me, with his hand firm on my wrist and his
cock making a place inside me.  And there was absolutely no hiding that I loved
it; he was soaked in the evidence of my enjoyment.

I concentrated on breathing, knowing I couldn’t take much
more.  He was pushing me to the edge of sanity.  I’d been cumming for what
seemed like a millennia now, and I felt like I was going to explode, or perish,
or in some other dramatic way spin out of control.  Maybe that’s what he
wanted.

Because he didn’t stop.  He continued, thrusting, stroking. 
The area between us was a wet mess, and the sounds we made were graphic.

And I came again.  And again.  Until my womb cramped and I
felt completely broken, yet free.  Until I was barely clinging to
consciousness, and I was drooling on my pillow.  Until I was ready to
acknowledge him as my master.

Then, and only then, did he allow himself his own climax. 
It came with a roar that filled the darkened interior of my cabin.  His hands
clenched, and he yanked me firmly back as he poured himself into me.

I felt a vague sense of relief, but much, much bigger than
that was a burgeoning joy.  The feeling was warm and fuzzy, and it evoked
hearts and puppies.  That imagery worried me slightly, but it was a worry I
couldn’t sustain.  It was almost three in the morning, and the man behind me
had worn me the hell out.  I couldn’t seem to keep my eyelids open, let alone
hold onto a thought.

Gary pulled my knees out from under me, and pressed me
belly-first onto the bed.  Our sweat-slicked skin formed a heated weld, and his
heart thumped against my back, racing just as hard as mine.

He kissed my cheek, and then rolled us onto our sides.  I
was completely boneless.  All I wanted to do—all I
could
do—was lie
there in his arms.  We seemed to be on the same page, because he tucked me
against him and pulled the blanket over both of us.