Читать книгу Tucker's Claim - Sarah McCarty - Страница 7

Kissing Sally was as natural as breathing. Tucker bent and she lifted, participating in the discovery as if she were as hungry for the taste of him as he was for her, her lips already parted when they met his. Soft, demanding with feminine hope. She didn’t have to worry. He wouldn’t let her down in bed. Supporting her with his hand in the small of her back, he arched her closer, not immediately taking advantage of her parted lips, savoring the anticipation, raising it with light nips and easy busses. Grunting as the fire gathered deep inside, built, flashed outward in a near crippling release of pleasure.

“Ah, damn, pretty thing, I knew you’d be like this.”

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, gripping tightly as the shock went through her. No shy miss here, just an open, honest woman very sure of what she wanted, which was good because he’d never been so vividly aware of a woman, the press of her nipples against his chest, the soft graze of her hips, the sweet relaxation of her body against his…Never been so vividly aware of his own senses through a kiss to the point that he could feel his blood surging through his veins, feel her breath whispering over his skin as she relaxed against him with the soft sigh of surrender he’d been imagining for the past six months. Her lips were soft, her muscles taut as she rose up on tiptoe, stoking the fire between them. She pulled back. He allowed it, barely.

There was a touch of wonder in her expression. “Thee kiss like an angel.”

He caught the words in his mouth, holding them, irrationally making more of them than was wise before letting them go and falling into the game, the seduction. Brushing a few strands of hair away from her temple, he smiled as if he weren’t so aroused that he was in danger of simply lifting her, unbuttoning his pants, finding the wet heat of her through the slit in her pantaloons and thrusting deep. “You should see what my devil can do.”

“An angel, a devil, a man and a woman. Our bed is going to be crowded tonight.”

Laughter caught him by surprise, escaping before he could muffle it. “I suppose we could kick a couple out.”

“Good, because I want only thee.”

For tonight. As a young man he’d been slow to hear that silent qualification, but he’d soon learned the reality of this exchange. And the benefits of giving a woman what she wanted. Pretty much, his size and muscle, when combined with the forbidden of his ancestry, meant that no matter what town he landed in, his bed was never empty unless he wanted it to be. Since he’d landed in Lindos for the first time a year ago, he’d slept alone because the only woman he wanted was grieving, but now it looked like his luck was turning. Satisfaction spread right along with his smile. “Good.”

Sally Mae blinked, reached up and touched the corner of his mouth. “Thee are smiling.”

The tenderness, when he expected passion, threw him off balance.

“You’ve seen me smile before.”

She shook her head, leaning back. He liked the way she trusted he’d support her almost as much as he liked the gentle brush of her fingertips over the corner of his lips. “Not a true smile.”

“I’ve got you in my arms with the night in front of me. That’s a lot to be happy about.”

“Will thee think badly of me if I admit I’m smiling for the same reason?”

He pressed experimentally with his fingertips. She responded by snuggling closer, her breath catching as she felt the extent of his desire. “If I say yes, will you try harder to please me?”

“I would be more likely to find a man less persnickety.”

“In that case, absolutely not.”

The softening of her smile let him know she understood his teasing. “Ah, good, because I have my heart set on thee.”

Inside, the music died off. People would be coming out soon to catch a breath of air. They couldn’t stay here.

“What are thee thinking?”

“Where we can go for a little privacy.”

“Thee do not have this all planned?”

The question hit him on a raw spot he had thought long since scabbed over. His mother being Indian didn’t make him an amoral tomcat with nothing better to do than plan the next skirt to lift. “I’ve been busy.”

Trying to find Desi’s sister, Ari, before her uncle’s henchman did. Trying to keep Sam and Bella alive against the outlaws that wanted Sam dead and Bella’s inheritance in their pockets. Trying to keep his hands off Sally Mae.

Sally winced and sighed, her palms pressing against his chest, stroking the apology into his skin. Her fingers tangled in the cord around his neck, sliding down to nudge the bullet he always wore around his neck as a reminder of what happened to those who were weak. “Thee should know I’m not good at this.”

He pulled them away, not liking the thought of her tainted by the memories it harbored. “What exactly is this?”

“This is supposed to be me seducing thee.” She slanted him a look from under her lashes. “I’ve been led to believe it doesn’t take much.”

“To seduce an Indian?”

This time, she slapped his shoulder, the small, painless violence just arousing him more. Pushing back, she glared at him. His hand in the small of her back kept her from putting any real distance between them, but it didn’t keep her from trying. A little of his resentment faded as he quelled the rebellion by lifting her just a bit so her struggles snuggled the ridge of his cock into the V of her thighs. On a sharp gasp, she went utterly still. But she didn’t back down.

“Any man.”

“Your momma tell you that?”

“It was more of a warning, to keep me safe from the base desires of men.”

“And yet, here you are, blatantly tempting my baser self.”

She frowned. “Who wants to aggravate me.”

“Who wants you very much,” he corrected, sliding his hands up her back.

“I’m not so sure I want thee anymore.”

The little liar. The truth was in the way she cuddled against him and the way her eyes watched his lips shape around the words as if imagining other things. “Even if I promise to be very easy to seduce?”

Her fingers dug into his shoulder as he pressed against her in little pulses. “How easy?”

Trailing his fingers down her cheek, over the slight ledge of her shoulder to her chest, he confessed, “Very.”

Biting her lip, she continued to hold still as he found and followed the strap of her camisole beneath her dress. “I could meet thee in the barn.”

The confession came out in a breathless rush that touched his tender side and reminded him she was new to this, likely had never been with anyone but the good doctor. That being the case, this was a very big step for her. The least he could do was make it easy. As his finger hit the bodice of the hidden camisole, he kissed her lips for no reason other than that it had been fifteen seconds since the last time he’d placed his mouth on hers, fifteen seconds since he’d taken her breath as his. Fifteen seconds since he’d felt that particular arc of pleasure go through him. It was no different this time. Pleasure arced in a rich unfurling. And when its journey culminated its race down his spine, settling in his balls, pulling them up tight, it was almost like coming home. This time, when their lips parted, he couldn’t manage easy. His impatience bit into his drawl, dragging it down to a rough growl.

“The barn’s too conspicuous.”

She blinked, not with him yet. Her tongue ran over her lips. “I can sneak.”

As if sneaking was an option. “The rumors will start before you get to the rose garden.”

His staying in her barn when he was in town hadn’t raised suspicions when her husband was alive, but now that she was widowed, a hostile edge had invaded his dealings with some of the town’s more ornery citizens. Pretty much everyone but Sally Mae held his motives in suspicion. And as the days passed, that suspicion was growing.

She sighed and flicked her fingers in dismissal. “Some people lead very boring lives. They seek something to talk about.”

She’d obviously never been on the wrong side of community opinion, otherwise she’d know how much other people’s assumptions could ruin a life. He drew his thumb across the remnants of their kiss, the soft, moist flesh clinging to his calluses.

“Bored people could make life very difficult for you.”

“If I worried about how others see my choices, my life would be equally boring.”

He kind of liked the idea of her life being boring. Predictable. Safe.

“Thankfully, the sacrifice won’t be necessary.” He let her slide down, his breath hissing between his teeth as her stomach slid along his cock. “The moon’s bright enough. I’m thinking that I could meet you down by the pond.”

She ran her hand up his back. “Outside?”

She didn’t sound put off by the idea. He hadn’t really expected her to be. In his experience, being taken outdoors was part of what women expected when they invited him to their bed. “Yes.”

Her fingers pressed against his nape in a fleet kiss of excitement. “I’ll have to take my leave and then stop by the house. I will meet thee in an hour.”

An hour was too damn long. As the only thing he could figure she needed from the house was a blanket, he offered. “I can take the quilt off my bed.”

She stepped back, out of his arms. “Not those kind of things.”

He had a gnawing urge to drag her back. “Care to explain?”

She sighed. “Thee must not take this wrong, but I do not wish to become with child.”

He wasn’t in any particular hurry to be a father, though a part of him couldn’t resist toying with the thought of a child. A little bit of him to go on in the future. He wouldn’t have one, of course. Caught between the Indian world he’d never known and the white world that wouldn’t accept him, there was no place for him, any more than there’d be a place for a child who would no doubt bear his skin color. For him, there were just these stolen moments with different women with no forever on the back end.

“You’ve got a way of stopping that?”

“Yes. Jonah taught me.”

“It works?”

“We were married six years and I do not have a child.”

She sounded neither happy nor sad when she said that, which just struck him as wrong. A woman like Sally Mae, who cared for everyone, would have strong maternal urges. Yet she didn’t have children because her husband had taught her how to avoid it.

Sally’s fingers brushed his, drawing his gaze. “This bothers thee?”

He smiled automatically. “Not a bit.”

She didn’t smile back.

“I do not want thee to take offense, but…” She licked her lips. “I must ask…”

No doubt she wanted to caution him to be gentle. Women always seemed obligated to ask that, as if he weren’t aware of his size and the harm he could do. “What?”

“It occurs to me that a man like thee might already have a woman.”

Shit. He’d rather she’d ask him to be gentle than to be insulting him. “If I did, I wouldn’t be out here kissing you.”

She shook her head, causing moonlight to dance off the crown of braids wrapped around her head as the strings to her white cap danced about her shoulders. He wanted to pull those hairpins out so that heavy swathe of hair spilled like sunlight, brightening the darkness around them.

“I don’t mean to insult thee. It’s just not my way to cause another pain.”

He knew that about her, but it annoyed the hell out of him that she didn’t know the same about him. Then again, why should she? To her, he was a means to an end. “Then you can stop worrying. No one’s expecting me anywhere.”

Except Ari, Caine’s sister-in-law, either dead or held prisoner somewhere out there. But until he received a response to his latest query, he didn’t have a lead to follow so he had no choice other than to stay put.

Sally Mae reached up, cuddling the softness of her breasts into the hardness of his chest. His hand fell naturally to the small of her back, supporting her. There were definitely compensations to staying put. “Except me.”

“Except you.”

He shook his head, feeling her shiver when the ends of his hair f licked across her forearms as her fingers linked behind his neck. She was very sensitive to him. “I’ll be waiting for you at the woods straight off the back door.”

“But what if someone—”

He put his fingers over her lips. “No one’s going to see me unless I want to be seen, but you’re not to walk in the woods at night by yourself.”

“I have done it many times. Two nights ago, in fact.”

“I know.”

She frowned. “Thee watched?”

“I kept guard.”

Her smile caressed his fingertips. “Thee always watch over me.”

“I owe you.”

She went still against him again.

“What?”

Her hands slid down to his shoulders. “Thee are not planning on being with me tonight because thee feel obligated?”

Only a woman could come to that conclusion. “Moonbeam, I’m not that nice a guy.”

The mischief came back to her smile. “Good.”

It was foolish. Someone could come out any second, and the one thing he never was, was foolish. But when Sally looked at him like that—part seductress, part challenge—he lost all sense of civilization. Yanking her into his arms, he kissed her with all the hunger she roused—hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave an impression. And when he let her go, she swayed, her gray eyes glazed over with the same passion tearing through him. Hell, when he finally got her to himself, they were going to set the grass on fire.

Touching his finger to the kiss-swollen center of her bottom lip, he drew it away from her teeth, revealing the moist inner lining. He licked his lips, savoring her taste. Tonight he’d know what she tasted like all over. Tucking his finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his.

“Don’t make me wait too long.”

Sally stood in front of her mirror, studying her reflection. Tucker McCade was waiting for her out in the woods. The illicit thrill that went through her was very much out of place, but exciting. Staring at the mirror, she wondered what he saw in her. She was a plain woman with plain ways, wearing a plain dress. She had nothing frilly under her dress, such as the saloon girls wore to entice a man. No fancy scents to please his senses. She was just Sally Mae Schermerhorn, widow of Jonah Schermerhorn, mother to none, daughter to none. A woman who’d come west in the hope of finding the sense of belonging that she’d never had, even amidst the accepting arms of the people who had taken her in when she was ten. Even in the arms of her husband.

She touched the demure white cap she always wore over her coronet of braids. Nothing like what was worn by the other women Tucker had known, she was sure. Tucker, with his big bones, big muscles and bold face with the aggressive slash of his cheekbones beneath his incredible silver eyes was a harshly exotic, handsome man. There was nowhere he went that women’s eyes didn’t follow. A dart of insecurity pierced her anticipation. Which meant he could have his pick.

She pulled the cap off slowly, watching in the mirror as it revealed the tightly pinned braids. Suddenly she hated the hairstyle and all it represented. Conformity. Control. Acceptance. Tonight, she wanted to be the woman that Tucker imagined. Someone as fanciful as a moonbeam. She studied the cap, her image. Tonight, for whatever reason, he wanted her. And tonight she wanted to be more than plain Sally Mae. Tonight she wanted to drown in the attraction between them and just bury the pain that festered inside beneath some sort of joy. Since that horrible night when the sheriff had brought her Jonah’s bloody body, along with his last words, she’d been silently screaming. She didn’t want to be silent anymore, locked in her mind with her screams. And tonight she didn’t have to be. Tonight she could give Tucker what he wanted and take a little for herself. No promises would be made. No one would be hurt. Just two bodies coming together to satisfy separate needs. And when it was over, she’d go back to her silence and plain ways and Tucker would go about his wild ones. There was no worry that he would gossip. The added benefit of taking a man with Indian blood as her lover was that he wouldn’t—couldn’t—say a word for fear of being strung up. She didn’t personally care about his heritage. God created all men and women equally, but societal issues did offer her that guarantee.

Another pause as she considered how selfish she was being, using a man to relieve pain. But then she remembered the look in Tucker’s eyes as he’d stood in the back of the cemetery on one of her recent visits. He had stalked over the rise like some wild cougar, his torn-off shirtsleeves and leather vest showcasing his massive chest and powerful muscles, giving him a primitive intimidation, making everyone and everything else seem insignificant. The ever-present bullet hanging on the leather thong around his neck completed the image of a cold, lethal predator. Until his silver gaze met hers. There hadn’t been any sympathy there. No pity. But as she stared into his eyes, understanding arced across the distance between them, and she saw the pain he, too, felt.

It would just be one other thing they had in common—an understanding of how pain too great to be borne had to be hidden, because to let it loose would destroy everything they were. At first, that had made her uncomfortable, but as the months passed there was comfort in knowing that her secret was shared. And now their relationship was going forward, down a path that had a predestined feel to it. An opening, Friends called it. An opportunity, presented by God, to grow.

Sighing, she put the cap on the polished vanity top.

She was going to take a lover. A man not of her race, not of her beliefs. A man who, supposedly, was built of nothing but violence and darkness. A man who had such bright, shining moments of goodness that it was very hard to reconcile his reputation with what she knew. A man with whom, tonight, she would share more secrets. Intimate ones in a step she’d accepted was meant to be. She wasn’t sure what God had planned for either of them, but tonight was right. Others might point a finger if they found out, but the same way she’d known since she was ten that Jonah was to be her husband, she knew Tucker was what she needed tonight.

The knowledge didn’t make her any less nervous. She had an incredible urge to slap the cap back onto her head, to go back into hiding, to let the pain grow until it got too big to fight anymore. To be the coward no one ever let her be. Instead, she unbuttoned her dress and quickly divested herself of her corset. It didn’t seem right to go to a tryst wearing one. She didn’t look in the mirror as she tossed it on the bed and rebuttoned the fastenings.

Running her hands over her stomach, she sighed. It felt strange to feel her flesh beneath her dress. Wearing a corset always made her feel more in charge, as if she had a second backbone to see her through when her own failed, but tonight, it was just her. Tucker had better appreciate it.

A glance at the clock on the wall showed more than an hour had passed since Tucker had left.

Don’t make me wait too long.

Or what? She hadn’t asked what, but nothing her imagination came up with made her feel better. He’d leave? She didn’t want that. He’d come get her? Even worse. The whole reason she was late was because that cantankerous, lecherous Lyle—her current patient—had proved demanding, wanting food and making insinuations while she’d served it. Thank goodness, by tomorrow he’d be up and about and gone. He made her nervous with his sly glances and free ways. While it was her duty to care for the sick, there were some patients she debated the wisdom of saving. Lyle was one.

Immediately, she felt guilty. All men were capable of change. The prompting came from within and there was every chance this last brush with a knife had opened Lyle’s heart. If Jonah was here it wouldn’t be so hard to believe that. She likely wouldn’t have slipped in the first place. Jonah had believed very strongly in God’s power to induce change.

Unlike her. She glanced at her reflection again, noting the high color in her cheeks. The almost wicked anticipation in her eyes. The utterly proper braids above. She reached up and changed her mind halfway to her destination. She couldn’t walk out the door with her hair down. It was too brazen, too bold. It would leave her feeling naked.

Sally knew there was a wildness in her that could match the wildness in Tucker, but knowing it and experiencing it were two different things. To complicate matters, she had a tendency to be shy. If she got mad, that fell by the wayside, but she didn’t intend to be mad tonight. Raking her teeth across her lips to give them a bit more fullness and color, she turned away from the mirror. She would have to do as she was. Jonah had always enjoyed taking her hair down for her. Maybe Tucker would enjoy it, too. Smoothing her skirts, she headed down the stairs and into the sweetness of the night.

Tucker was waiting for her right where she expected. As soon as she stepped into the shadows of the trees, his hand reached out and snagged her arm, pulling her into him.

“You’re late,” he growled as his other hand cupped her head, tilting her head back. Before she could answer, his mouth was on hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise as his tongue plunged past her lips, all the wildness she’d ever sensed in him pouring over her in a shocking bath of fire.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, digging her nails into his nape, she let his passion sweep her up. Pulling him to her, opening her mouth wider, she begged for more as he made a rumbling noise in his chest. A growl? Had he really growled? She shivered with the possibility as he lifted her and walked her back until her shoulder blades came up against a tree. His chest came down against hers, holding her prisoner as his mouth continued to ravish hers.

She’d never been wanted like this. Never had a man come at her like he’d starve if he didn’t have all she had to give as fast as he could get it. It was surprisingly erotic. His thigh pushed between her legs as her knee came up and met the barrier of the fabric of her skirt. She strained forward. He was so close, so close…

That low rumble surrounded her again. His big hands left her back and reached down. His lips bit at hers. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Any less and I’d be naked,” she moaned as he worked his knee higher so it just grazed her center. Three yanks on the yards of fabric and he had her right leg free. She wrapped it around his calf, which was as high as she could reach. Another rumble, this one bit off in the middle by frustration. “What the hell’s wrong with naked?”

There was no way that he could do anything with her skirts like this, but she could feel how hungry he was, how fevered with need. Because of her. Power and wonder joined desire. “Someone would see.”

“Who cares?”

“Thee would.” She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.

Fabric ripped and his hands closed over her thigh. Heat seared through her skin. “Yes, I would.” He squeezed. “Only I get to see you like this.”

“Thee can’t see anything.”

This time the rumble was anticipation. “Yet.”

Yet. Such a powerful word. She shuddered. Bark rasped against her back as he shifted his grip. As if she weighed nothing, he lifted her higher, snuggled her tighter. The muscles of his thighs flexed against hers. He was so different from her. Pure muscle and temptation.

He bent his head. There was no evading his mouth. No wanting to. She loved the way he kissed. The way he tasted. She wanted to taste him more intimately. To feel all that muscle flex at her command. She pressed against his shoulder in a silent request.

He shook his head, his hair tickling the sides of her neck. His hat brim shadowed her face as his denial grated into her mouth. “No.”

“Yes.” She pressed harder. “Let me go.”

For a second she didn’t think Tucker heard, but then his chest heaved against hers and he stepped back, his hands settling on the tree beside her head. Still keeping her within the circle of his arms. His mouth was set in a straight line. Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes slitted. A shiver of awareness swept over her skin. This wasn’t the man she knew. This was the man outlaws feared and women desired. He looked like he’d kill to have her back in his arms. Oh, she liked that.

His mouth twisted. “I’m sorry.”

Licking her lips, she caught the lingering salt of his kiss. “For what?”

His hands drew up into fists, scraping across the rough bark. “I usually save the rough stuff for a little later in the game.”

It took her a minute to understand his meaning. He thought she was afraid? The harsh line of his jaw drew her touch. His skin was smooth without the constant roughness of impending beard that her husband had had. Did Indians not have facial hair? “I like that thee want me like this.”

His teeth closed over the tip of her finger. “Good, because I feel like I’m about to go off like a firecracker.”

She slid down the tree, the bark pulling at her hair, smiling when his hand automatically came between her head and the tree, protecting her even as his breath came in a hard sigh. “Then maybe we should do something to ease the worst of thy hunger.”

She held her breath as she reached for the button fly of his pants. Jonah hadn’t liked her to take charge. Tucker merely took a step back, giving her a bit more room. “Sally Mae…”

There was enough light to see the bulge of his erection pressing hard against his pants. She leaned forward. His fingers twined beneath her braids. To pull her away or hold her close? “What?”

“You’re living dangerously.”

Her smile deepened as she brushed her lips across the broad tip where it rested above his hipbone. His breath hissed in as she opened her mouth and encompassed as much of the broad head as she could through the thick cotton of his pants. “Thee have been telling me that for months.”

“You might want to listen.”

“Not tonight.”

This time when she pushed, he took that step she needed, his eyes shining like silver fire in the new moonlight as she knelt in front of him and unbuttoned his pants. His skin was hot and damp, enabling the slide of her hand down beneath the material. She held his gaze, not bothering to hide how he made her feel. Tonight was about pleasure. “I like knowing I can affect thee like this.”

His laugh rumbled softly around them. “Good, because there isn’t a chance in he—hades after this that I’ll be able to pretend that you don’t.”

She liked that he modified his language for her. She liked even more that, when she slid his underwear down, his cock fell into her hands. Big, surprisingly thick. She curled her fingers under the head, sliding her hand down, her grip widening as his cock thickened until she got to the base. Hair tickled her fingers. He didn’t move as she cupped his balls, rolling his testicles gently between her fingers as she slid her hand back up. Once again as she worked her hand down, her fingers were forced open. She paused, studying his cock—the dark color of the flared head, the sheer size, taking in the enormity of what she was doing.

She was going to sleep with a man other than her husband, going to take him into her body. And once she did, there’d be no going back. She’d no longer just be Jonah’s widow, her future defined by her past. She’d be Sally Mae Schermerhorn. A woman whose future stretched…endlessly…in front of her. She closed her eyes. She felt as though she were perched on the edge of a cliff. One way was disaster. One way was safety. She just didn’t know which way to go. Forward or back. Life or death.

Dear God, I need a sign.

Tucker’s cock flexed in her palm, drawing her attention. His fingertip under her chin pulled her gaze to his. Looking into his eyes was like looking into the vastness of the night sky. It was scary and exciting all at once. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of with me, moonbeam.”

It was the moonbeam that got her. That silly, fanciful name he called her should have offended, but it didn’t. Because it very much fit how she wanted to see herself. She wanted to be silly and fanciful. To be the woman who truly felt as if she could take on anything, especially Tucker’s passion.

“Thank thee.”

Watching his face as she was, she couldn’t miss the smile that twitched his lip at her politeness. She couldn’t blame him for the humor, but laughter wasn’t going to give her what she needed. She needed passion. A lot of passion. Passion so bright it burned her from the inside out. With a swipe of her thumb across the sensitive head of his cock, she banished the humor. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. His mouth settled into the familiar straight line that gave him that dangerous look. Her pussy flexed and her breath caught. Yes, that was how she wanted him to look. Dangerous and ready.

She opened her mouth, letting him watch as she angled the tip downward, not immediately taking him into her mouth, teasing him with the heat of her breath, the sweet agony of anticipation. Pressure on the back of her head pulled her forward. She resisted, just another second, for no other reason than she could, but there was no fighting Tucker. He was a force as elemental as the night, as unstoppable as the wind. As soon as her lips slid over the crown, a drop of hot liquid coated her tongue. Salty. Earthy. Good.

Tucker groaned and his grip on her skull tightened convulsively. “Shit.”

If her mouth hadn’t been full of him, Sally would have smiled. She intended for him to lose a lot more control before morning came. Tonight he was her dream come true and she wasn’t missing a minute of it.

Bobbing her head up and down the length of his cock, she adjusted to his width by stretching her mouth as far as she could until he hit the back of her throat. It was her turn to moan. No matter how hard she worked, she could only take half of him. It wasn’t enough. She wanted all he had to give, wanted to give him everything, more than any other woman ever had. As she caressed his cock, she realized that she wanted to be memorable. To him. Dear heaven, she was breaking her own rules.

His big hand cupped her cheek, his fingers caressing behind her ear as she struggled with the urge to gag.

When she met his gaze, he shook his head. The swaying ends of his hair created slender shadows around them.

“Don’t force it. Just let it happen.”

Everything in her rejected the suggestion. It couldn’t just happen. It had to be right. The way she’d planned. She took him faster, her hands working his balls and the base of his shaft. He didn’t protest, but this time his fingers pressed at the nape of her neck, tilting her head back as she withdrew until she held only the heavy tip balanced on her tongue.

“I’m not going to last too long like this.”

She drew back. Proof welled between them. A shimmering drop of desire bathed in white light. Pure and tempting. Another sign?

“Are thee only good for one time?” That would require an altering of her plans.

Tucker laughed and shook his head, his hair sliding across his shoulders in a pagan enticement. She’d love to feel that hair brushing over her skin. Her nipples tightened and a shiver went through her as her imagination provided an image to feed her passion. His eyes narrowed.

“I’ll be at you so much, you’ll be lucky if you can walk come morning.”

That sounded good to her. If he was “at her” she couldn’t think. Couldn’t mourn. Couldn’t long. “Prove it.”

His expression shifted, lost its neutrality. In its place was lust, passion and a wild emotion she couldn’t place. His beautiful lips barely moved as he said, “That was a mistake.”

She didn’t get a chance to ask why. And in the next breath, she didn’t need to. His cock pressed into her mouth, spearing strong and deep as he pinned her with his knees to her shoulders, holding her to the tree a willing prisoner to his desire. Holding her for the thrust of his cock, the pulse of his pleasure.

The passion in his eyes burned over her, finding an answering level in her, jerking it to the fore, causing her to gasp. Lovemaking with her husband had been proper and satisfying, but it hadn’t had this wildness. And she wanted it, every primitive wild pulse.

When Tucker tried to pull back, she leaned her head forward, doing a little imprisoning of her own, sucking and licking along the throbbing shaft, urging him on with her tongue and teeth, studying his reaction. Glorying in it. Glorying in him. His hand cupped her head in a subtle command to stay put.

“Unbutton your dress.”

She’d never known an order could be so arousing. Clenching her thighs together, watching him watch her, she did. Without being told, she untied her camisole, too, separating both layers until the taut fabric cupped her breasts, pushing them in and up. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, insecurity gnawing at her confidence, stilling her movements. She wanted to please him.

Tucker swore, his eyes glued to the sight, and then with a jerk, he tore his cock from her mouth.

“No.” She grabbed for him, finding only the hard muscle of his thighs.

“Hold still.”

Angling his cock downward, he pumped it once, twice and then hot come splashed over her breasts, covering her nipples in an erotic bonding.

It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him in her mouth, a part of her. When he jerked and his cock came within reach, she tucked her tongue under the broad head, held his gaze as she wiggled it lightly, and let him see the final splash of his seed coat her tongue before slowly swallowing. Tucker swore and moaned. His still-hard cock forged into her mouth, filling her the way she wished it filled the place between her legs. She held him as he relaxed, cuddling her tongue to the softer shape, breathing through her nose as desire and satisfaction poured through her.

She thought it was over, but with a simple motion of his hand behind her head, Tucker took her with him. “I didn’t know you wanted my seed.”

She blinked at the apology. She wasn’t used to such plain speaking. His fingers cherished the curve of her cheekbone, followed the line of her jaw, tucking into the corner of her mouth with the same tenderness with which she cradled his cock. He held her to him as if he couldn’t bear to part. He reached down and cupped her breast in his big palm. The heat of his hand joined the lingering warmth of his seed, sending a shiver down her spine. His lips softened into a smile. “Did you like that?”

She nodded. She had and she wanted more. She wanted the whole experience of Tucker, no matter how shocking, how wild.

“Good.”

Those pagan eyes of his captured every nuance of her expression as he took a step backward, forcing her to creep along with him, and leaned back and sat down. She caught her weight on her hands as he spread his thighs, making a place for her. He clearly did not want her mouth separated from his cock. She didn’t have to wait more than a second to wonder why.

“Get me hard again.”