Voluptuous Vindication (15 page)

He looked her over and nodded. “It will do until we return to Las Vegas. We can get more clothing there.”

If they delayed here long enough, she wouldn't even need new clothing in Las Vegas. The days were passing quickly, and her time on earth was growing short. In the past, she would have anticipated returning to Heaven. Now she was anguished, dreading the days until she left Ian.

It was a hopeless situation, and so was she. The truth was fairly obvious. Sara was falling hard and fast for this Endurer, nurturing feelings that were unwanted and wouldn't be appreciated if she were foolish enough to reveal them.

Ian sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at her with a curious expression. “What's it like, up there in Heaven?”

Sara shrugged. “I don't know, to be honest. When we are sent out on long-term assignments, we lose our behind-the-scenes knowledge. Occasionally, I get a flash of memory, but generally I can't remember. I just know it's peaceful. There's no pain, uncertainty, or anxiety there.”

“So you prefer being there?” Ian prodded, his eyes never leaving her face.

“I used to, but it really doesn't matter now. It's no longer an option.”

Ian stood up, walking to her with a grim expression on his face. He grabbed her upper arms, not painfully, but with enough pressure to make her take notice. “Look at me, Sara,” he growled out, his eyes glowing. “Maybe you think what happened between us was a mistake, hell, maybe you even regret it. I don't, though, and I'm not going to make you stand alone through this. I don't know what the future holds for either of us, but I'm not going anywhere. Just give me some time to figure it out, okay?”

Sara stared in his face, her jaw slack. Something lay in his brief speech, something that gave her hope. She nodded slowly in agreement as he dropped her arms.

“The men are building a storage shed, I can hear them from here. I'm going to join them and give you a little time to yourself. There's a shower a few doors down, and the robe is on the bed. It's up to you what you wear. They won't force us out of here just because you choose to remain dressed.”

He smiled sardonically, gesturing grandly at his body. “As you can see, I have no problems with nudity.”

And he wore it so well.
The urge to drop her eyes was strong, but
Sara refused to let him tempt her. “I guess I'll see you later then,” she replied nonchalantly, moving over to the bed.

“I guess so,” he replied, whistling as he walked to the curtain and left. 

Sara released a huge sigh of relief. Ian was a dangerous man, at least to her self-control. The erotically-charged conversation was over, but her body didn't seem to realize it. Her breasts were heavy, her panties wet.

Hurrying to the window, she waited for him to come out. After several seconds, he did, his bearing proud as he walked down the steps and across the grass. The women outside stopped and stared, some of them with speculative, lusty expressions across their faces. Ian was making a stir, and she didn't like it one bit.

Gnawing on her lip, she watched as a dark-haired woman broke away from the rest and quickly caught up with him. She was beautiful, even Sara could see it from her perch at the window. Her dark hair was long and thick, curling slightly as it flowed down her frame.
Her slender, but well-developed frame.

She had large breasts, rounded and firm, her stomach flat. Her skin gleamed with oil, likely some kind of suntan lotion. The woman was everything she wasn't. Slim, seductive, and bold, she wasn't afraid to go after what she wanted, and it looked like she'd found it. Ian didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry to walk away. Her hand slid to his arm as she smiled up at him.

Sara turned away from the window, disgusted with it all. “Go to it, big boy,” she muttered, angry with Ian, herself, and the woman making a play for him.

It wouldn't hurt so bad if she hadn't slept with him. No wonder mortal women were so heartbroken when a relationship ended. It was devastating when you'd given everything, including your body, and it still wasn't good enough. Or even worse, when you had to watch the man you wanted desire someone else. It hurt, much worse than she would have imagined it would.

Grabbing the robe from the bed, she marched to the door. If he wanted his free-spirited, nudist babe, he could have her. She wasn't going to waste anymore time worrying about it. Ian had sorely tested her pride, leaving it smarting. Let him have the piece of fluff he was playing with. To hell with the both of them.

Sara spent the rest of the afternoon convincing herself that it was a good thing.

* * * * *

Ian walked down the dark dirt path, his eyebrow furrowed as he thought about Sara. He'd just gotten back, risking a half-hour away from the safety of the nudist camp to run to the local general store. They'd had clothing, a drab selection of modest skirts and shirts that Sara would be pleased with. He grimaced. He wasn't sure if he should be pleased she was so modest or irritated. The last thing he wanted was another man staring at the plump curves of her silken flesh.

She hadn't been in the house when he had returned, nor was anyone else. Everyone was at the bonfire, enjoying the perfect weather. He was surprised she'd loosened up enough to go with them. He quickened his steps, eager to be in her presence again. It wasn't like him to crave a female's companionship, at least not outside of the bedroom, but he craved hers.

Stopping at the edge of the trees, he scanned the naked bodies surrounding the bonfire. Bringing Sara here had been a bold move. The look on her face at Dan's naked body had been priceless. It was time the angel broadened her horizons, and he was just the man to see it done.

His breath turned into a strangled gasp as his eyes singled her out. Stunned, he could do nothing more than gape at the sight in front of him. “What the hell?” Ian muttered, his eyes widening as his confused mind tried to reconcile what he was seeing with the woman he knew.

Sara sat on the ground in front of a log, only a few feet from the fire. The flames glinted off her her pale, nude body, her cheeks rosy from the heat. In her hand, she held a glass jar filled with a liquid that was likely some kind of home brew. She was singing a bawdy song with the rest of them, lyrics that no near-virginal angel should ever know.

His eyes shifted to the man behind her, and then narrowed, in rage. She sat between the knees of a well-built man, her arms resting across his thighs as she sang. Leaning her head back, Sara laughed, her loose hair swinging across the other man's nether regions.

“Oh. Hell. No.” Ian growled out, letting go of the tree he'd nearly slumped against in shock. While he'd been out, carefully shopping for a wardrobe that would be better suited on someone's grandmother, she'd been here getting seduced by some long-haired stud. And by the looks of it, she'd been loving every moment of it.

“Guess what, angel? Playtime is over,” he bit out softly, furious as he stalked in her direction.

Bypassing everyone, he ignored the greetings that were sent his way. His rage boiled over inside of him. Never, not one in his wildest dreams, would he have imagined returning to find Sara naked and singing off-key like a drunken lush, burrowed comfortably between another man's thighs. His hands clenched into fists as he stopped in front of them.

“Get up now, Sara,” Ian ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. His body fairly hummed with the force of his emotions. He stared down at the man sitting on the log with death in his eyes.

“Go to hell, Ian,” Sara slurred back before hiccuping loudly. “Oops,” she added on, giggling, as everyone around her laughed.

Dan got up as he attempted to diffuse the approaching catastrophe. “Have a glass of brew, Ian, and pull up a log. We're all friends here.”

“I'm not friendly enough to share my woman with another man,” he roared back in response, never taking his eyes off of Sara. “We are going back to the house and calling it a night. End of story.”

She tried to get up, but fell back against the man behind her. They both laughed. Her breasts brushed against his hardened shaft, and Ian saw red.

In one swift move, he reached down and pulled her up. Swinging her into his arms so he wouldn't punch the male, he nodded at Dan. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Alright, Son,” Dan replied, saluting Ian with his jar. He was light-hearted and easy going, enjoying the events of the night. “Have a good night.”

Ian turned, leaving the bonfire swiftly. Sara pouted up at him, by some miracle still holding her own jar. “Party pooper,” she said, taking a sip of the contents.

The anger was leaving him with every step he took. He should have known they'd break out the home brew. As innocent as Sara was, it really hadn't been her fault. As it was, no harm had been done, but it could have been, had he not returned when he did. The image of her between another man's naked thighs had unsettled him, beyond belief. He now knew how Shayne must have felt, that night outside of the club.

“When we get back to the house, I'm getting rid of that jar,” he warned her. Ian was in uncharted waters, never being the responsible one before.

In the past, he couldn't have cared less if one of his bed mates sought out the pleasures of another male. With her, it was unacceptable. Only over his dead body would he ever allow that to happen. “How many of those have you had, anyhow?”

“Who knows, and who cares?” Sara shot back, finishing it off in one long swallow. “All I know is that I feel
incredible
!” Leaning her head against his chest, she continued, “You know, Ian, you're awfully strong to carry me around like you do.”

The tone of her voice was low and throaty, sexy without intending to be. Ian groaned. It was going to be a long night.

“Why are you so grouchy?” Sara asked in the silence as he carried her into the house. “I thought you'd be pleased that I'm being friendly.”

“Friendly?” Ian retorted in disbelief. “Woman, if you were half that friendly towards me, that sexy ass of yours would never leave the bed.” He stopped and stared down at her dazed eyes and added, “
Never.
”

Laying her down on the bed, he crossed his arms as he looked at her leisurely. Her beautiful blonde hair flowed across her body in waves, ending well below the rounded curve of her butt. With pink cheeks and her full, soft curves, she reminded him of the Rubenesque beauties of the middle ages, in a time where a soft, feminine form was appreciated.

His cock sprung out boldly. Ian didn't try to hide it. Instead, he stood there and waited, wanting her to see how much he desired her.

He wasn't disappointed. Her eyes locked onto his shaft, gasping softly at the proud display. He let her look her fill, aroused at her perusal until he couldn't take anymore. The naked longing in her eyes was nearly his undoing.

Grabbing the jar from her slack grasp, he turned away with the last bit of his self-control. It was hard. Ian wasn't known for denying himself when it came to sensual pleasures. Walking to the doorway, he said quietly, “I'll be back.”

Chapter 11

“I'm flying,” Sara squealed out as Ian carried her down the hallway. He rolled his eyes, but really, he found it rather amusing. It was a side of her he'd never seen before. Gone was the prim, uptight woman she'd been, replaced with a fun-loving nymph without a shred of modesty. He was enjoying every moment of it.

She hung her head backwards, letting her hair trail against the wooden floor. “Look, I'm dusting the hardwood,” she informed him before giggling drunkenly. Her large breasts bounced, just inches beneath his chin. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face, his self-control all but shot.

“I want you to use the bathroom, Sara. You're going to need to after all the alcohol and water you drank. Call me when you're done.”

Standing her up in the hallway, he closed the door and released a pent-up groan of frustration. If he didn't get release soon, he was going to explode. He just knew it. Pinpricks of heat ran along his nerve endings, his shaft rigid and purple from lust. Closing his eyes, he hoped she could manage to find the toilet, but he wasn't willing to bet on it. Not as intoxicated as she was.

The toilet flushed. A moment later she said, “Oops,” and giggled. It was followed by another groan from him as he leaned his forehead against the bathroom door.

Sara opened it, placing one hand on her hip. “Why are you groaning out here?” Sara asked, smiling. “It sounds funny.”

Brushing past her, Ian hissed as her hardened nipples grazed his chest. He walked to the small shower, turning it on. Once the temperature was right, he turned to face her. “It sounds funny, huh?”

His eyes slid down her curves before slowly moving back to her face. “We're going to take a shower, and I'm going to show you exactly why I'm groaning.”

Her eyes widened as she slurred. “I'm not taking a shower with you.”

“Why not?” He asked, advancing on her until he stood right in front of her.

“We won't fit. I'm too big.” Her eyes slid down to his perpetually hard cock before whispering, “It's too big.”

“Oh, Angel,” he replied, chuckling. “You weren't saying that the other night.”

“Don't remind me,” she groaned, as he guided her to the shower.

“I will remind you and often,” Ian fired back, as she stepped in. He quickly followed, guiding them underneath the head of the shower. “I want you, Sara, more than I've ever wanted anything in my unending life. What I want, I have... And I'm determined to have you.”

Ian didn't give her time to respond. Instead, he tilted her face up to his, taking her mouth forcefully. He wouldn't penetrate her tonight, she was too intoxicated for that. He would make her burn, though, using every skill he'd picked up over the centuries. By the time he was done with her, she'd beg for fulfillment.
Guaranteed.

He pulled his lips from hers, moving down to kiss her sensitive neck. “We shouldn't be doing this,” she murmured, tilting her head to give him full access. “But right now, I can't remember why.”

Ian grinned in victory against her neck, reaching for the soap. Lathering his hands, he slid them across her breasts. Her hands grasped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles. “Oh, God,” she gasped out, “That feels so good.
I want more.
”

“Open your eyes and look at me, Sara,” he ordered, his hands stilling. When she did, he continued, “I want you, more than you could ever imagine, but not tonight. When I take you again, it's going to be when you're totally sober, and pleading prettily with a clear mind.”

“I know what I want,” she whispered back as her hands slid down the front of his chest. “And it's you.”

One of her hands continued to slide down. Ian's breath caught and held, his abdomen taut. Silently, he begged her to take it, at the same time, he damned it. As determined as he was not to take her, a man, especially one as red-blooded as him, only had so much control. If it snapped, he'd be behind her and buried to the hilt before she ever knew what hit her.

Sara's hand stopped just inches away from his pulsating cock. Their eyes met and held as a long, breathless moment passed. Without taking her eyes away from his, her hand closed around him.

Ian threw his head back, groaning loudly at the hot, tight grip of her clasp. “Stroke me,” he demanded. “Milk me with your hand, just like you did with that hot puss the other night.”

Her hand moved slowly up his shaft, testing the motion as she moaned.
Interesting.
His words excited her as much as they excited him. “Sweet Sara, I can smell that delectable pussy getting hot. It's driving me wild.”

She whimpered at his words, both of her hands wrapping around him. Already, he could feel his orgasm nearing, simmering as it had been, just beneath the surface. Sara was a quick learner. The motions of her hands were bringing him to the edge.

“I'm about to come,” he warned her, his hands sliding to her breasts. “I'm going to spew all over these gorgeous breasts.”

His eyes slid shut in ecstasy. It was nothing like being inside of her, but for now, it was a welcome relief. “Yes,” he hissed out, his body tightening.

Sara leaned forward, kissing his chest. The feel of her plump lips against his wet skin sent him over the edge, his cock spewing out his seed in long jets of release. 

Grabbing her, he buried his face in her neck, shuddering from the force of his release. “Naughty angel,” he growled, his hands sliding down to cup her ass. “You've done released the beast now.”

Sara laughed, her voice husky with her own arousal as she asked, “What does that mean?”

He pulled her to him, letting her feel his still-hardened shaft. “That means it's your turn, something I've been anticipating for quite awhile now.”

* * * * *

Ian carried her back to the bedroom. He'd thoroughly washed and dried her, her skin still tingling from the contact. Inside her core, though, she was burning like molten lava. 

Laying her down in the center of the bed, he slid in next to her. “When I saw you sitting so comfortably with another man, I saw red,” he told her, kissing his way slowly down her shoulder. “If you want to go to a bonfire, you tell me and I'll take you. I couldn't stand seeing your beautiful body pressed up against his.”

“You're jealous?” Sara asked in disbelief. The buzz she'd experienced from the alcohol was gone, burned off by the intense passion between them.

He stopped for a moment, his expression puzzled as if he found the idea preposterous. Finally he said, “I guess I am. It's an amazing feeling, experiencing a new emotion at six hundred years of age, but it is what it is.”

Ian rolled over on top of her, his green eyes glowing as they bore into hers. They were filled with a possessive intent, a look that made her shiver in longing. “New or not, I don't share, Sara. Not when it comes to you.” His hand slid down her stomach, hip, and thigh. “Every inch of you is mine. My cock claimed you, it was my dick that tore through your virginal covering. No other man.”

“Surely, you've had other virgins?” Sara said, striving for casualness.

Ian shook his head vehemently. “Never, and I always swore I never would. You're making me break all my rules, Sara, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. It's not just the virginity that drew me to you. Even if you wouldn't have been one, I would still feel the same way.”

He nudged the head of his shaft against her mound, making them both gasp. “You're making me crazy. All I can think about is being in that tight puss.”

Swallowing hard, she asked, “Why aren't you, then?”

He sighed, rocking against her again. “Baby, you don't know what you're saying. You've been drinking. It's not done between us, not by a long shot, and it won't be until I get you out of my system. Just not tonight.”

“I feel fine,” she moaned out, wiggling her hips underneath him. “I know what I want.”

Her actions jostled his swollen crown even closer. “Not tonight,” he told her again, smiling cockily as he pushed himself up. His large hand was wrapped tightly around his shaft as he squeezed it.

Ian stood up at the edge of the bed. Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her down, his muscular arms bunching. Staring at the area between her legs, he whispered, “Such a beautiful pussy. Bend your knees, Angel. I want to take a taste.”

It was wicked and decadent, but Sara wanted it, too. Closing her eyes in surrender, she obeyed him as she pulled her legs up and let them fall apart.

Ian kissed his way up her inner thigh. “Your skin is so soft it's almost like the finest silk.”

Reaching the uppermost part of her thigh he stopped, his palm taking the path his mouth had. Ian's hands were meticulous, his nails perfectly maintained, but his palms spoke a different story. They were a working man's hands, abrasive from hard labor.

She felt delicate in the face of such masculinity, the strength of his hands a powerful reminder of who and what Ian was. His body was purely male, his frame strong. There wasn't a woman alive that could be the focus of this magnificent masculine specimen and not feel as if she were the most wanted creature alive.

“Please, Ian,” she panted out, feeling his heated breath against her wet core. “Oh, God, I can't take waiting.”

“She begs so prettily,” he purred, his long fingers gently tugging at her plump lips. He spread them wide, revealing the sensitive flesh underneath. His tongue darted out, flattening as it slid across creamy, slick flesh. “Delicious,” he rasped out in a low, sensual tone. “You're so delicious, and just think?  I've got the whole night to enjoy this plentiful feast.”

The curtain was pulled to the side. Sara froze in shock and horror as the dark-haired woman stepped in, pulling it shut behind her. She stared at both of them before smiling sensually and saying, “Looks like I got here just in time.”

Ian jumped up, pulling the sheet over Sara. His nudity didn't bother him as he stared her down. “What are you doing here, Julie?”

Julie walked up to her, her hips moving in a practiced sensuality that Sara would never have. She stopped right in front of Ian, her slender hand moving up to rest on his muscular chest. Her breasts were full and swollen, her nipples puckered as they brushed against his skin. “Remember the last time you were here, how much fun we had? I want to pick up where we left off.”

She looked past Ian, staring at Sara with a look of disdain across her delicate features. “I don't know how or why you ended up with something like that, but I can only imagine it was out of pity... Or maybe someone dumped her off on you. Regardless, send her away, Ian, and I'll definitely make it worth your while.”

Sara was mortified, her mind and body too shocked to even think. She could see herself in the other woman's eyes, one of her thighs big enough to make up both of her delicate ones. It was a horrible feeling, that moment when you realized that others not only found you unattractive, they found you
disgusting
.

Her throat tightened as she stared at the perfection of Ian's tanned back. Her eyes dropped down lower, taking in the tight curves of his ass before moving down to his powerful thighs. Julie stood in front of him, her body a feminine version of Ian's perfection. The other woman was right. She had been dumped off on Ian, a burden he hadn't wanted or needed.
What had she been thinking?

“You bitch,” Ian spat out, the muscles of his back and neck visibly tensing. “If you were a man, you'd find yourself slumped against the wall for a comment like that.”

“Oh, Ian,” she replied, nearly purring. “If it would mean I'd end up with you dick-deep, I couldn't care less. I like it rough,” she continued, trailing her fingers down her breast and abdomen. “And I've got the body to take every hard thrust of yours.”

Ian's lip curled up in disgust. “Get the hell out, Julie. There's nothing about you that would tempt me again, and certainly not your trashy attitude. You couldn't hold a candle to the woman laying behind me, and deep inside, I think you know it.”