Текст книги "Nauti Temptress"
Автор книги: Lora Leigh
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
SEVENTEEN
Entering the inn through the front entrance the next day, something she rarely did, Eve started toward the stairs that led to the main residence, and her mother’s rooms.
“Eve, sweetie, did you need something?” Her mother stepped from the kitchen into the dining room and called out to her.
Stepping back, Eve turned and entered the dining room, moving to her mother.
“Are you busy, Momma?”
Of course, her mother was always busy. Mercedes Mackay wasn’t a person who could tolerate sitting still for long periods of time. Unless she was asleep.
“Of course not, I was just making pies for dessert tomorrow. Come into the kitchen.”
She almost laughed. Her mother didn’t consider baking pies a chore?
Stepping into the kitchen, Eve moved to the counter in front of the wide center aisle in the middle of the kitchen floor and pulled a stool from beneath the attached counter.
Taking her seat, she watched as her mother rolled the pie dough carefully, Eve’s mouth already watering for the taste of the flaky crust she knew would emerge once her mother was finished.
“Is everything okay, Eve?” Mercedes paused in her pie prep, her gaze intent on her daughter’s face. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m fine.” She nodded as she drew her hands from the counter and clasped them underneath it.
“No, you’re not,” her mother guessed. “If you were, you wouldn’t be hiding your fists under the counter, and your eyes wouldn’t look like bruised emeralds.”
Eve blinked back the emotion threatening to fill the eyes that were already betraying her with the tears that never seemed far away.
“And now you’re on the verge of tears.” More than a little concerned now, Mercedes set the pie dough to the side, washed her hands quickly at the small sink in the counter before drying them and moving to where her daughter sat on the other side. Pulling herself to the bar stool beside Eve, she drew Eve’s fists from beneath the counter. They were so tight her knuckles were white. Running her hand gently over them, Mercedes watched Eve silently for long moments.
When the words started pouring from Eve, she couldn’t stop them. All the things she couldn’t tell Dawg while they talked spilled out to her mother: the pain, that sense of being so fully connected to Brogan that no one else in the world existed, the sure and certain knowledge that he cared for her, cared for her deeply, and Eve’s certainty that he would turn her away.
“It’s like he was determined to push me away, even as he pulled me to him,” she grieved, her heart so heavy in her chest that the physical ache was draining. “I don’t know what to do, Momma,” she whispered, staring back at her mother almost pleadingly. “I don’t know how to just let him go. I don’t know how to give up, because he already owns so much of me, I don’t know whether my heart would survive just giving up.”
Yet she didn’t know what else to do. Brogan had been gone for over a week now, and though Jed and Eli were still in town, they were rarely in their suites either.
Mercedes listened, her heart breaking for her daughter and for Brogan.
He was a good man. She knew he was. Her Tim thought very highly of him, and Tim was an excellent judge of character. But just because he was a good man didn’t make him a man who knew how to care for a precious heart given to him.
“Do you think you’re pregnant, Eve?” Mercedes asked then.
“Well, now, Momma, I’ve never been pregnant, so I don’t really know,” Eve exclaimed in frustration. “How do you know?”
Mercedes’s eyes darkened with concern, though there was a glimmer of excitement in the depths, Eve noticed. “You can feel it, Eve. From the first day, if you’re still and just think of the child that could be growing inside you, you find you can just feel your child.” Reaching out, she cupped Eve’s cheek with her palm. “I knew the moment I conceived you,” she whispered. “Chandler had left that morning, and there I sat in the house without him, terrified of being alone in a strange country, unable to understand the people’s language or their ways, and I was so very frightened.” The memory of those years haunted her mother, Eve knew.
“I was sitting there at the kitchen table watching the sun rise, spreading its warmth across the canyons and buttes, reaching out for the house. It slipped through the windows, edged over the floor, and I watched as it inched a trail across the kitchen, coming nearer each moment.” She laughed. “One ray was very adventurous. It slipped over my bare foot, moved up my leg. . . .” Her mother touched her stomach as though remembering that moment. “The moment it reached me here”—moving her hands, she pressed her fingers to her abdomen, her face lighting in joy as though she had returned to that moment—“I felt you then,” she whispered. “My first. There was this warmth, like the sun had sunk inside me to touch you. And I knew I would no longer be alone. My child would be with me, and she would fill my heart.”
Eve marveled at the expression on her mother’s face and the love that seemed to transform every inch of it.
“But, Momma,” she whispered. “He raped you. Over and over again, in his attempt to force you to breed sons.”
“But I didn’t have sons, did I?” Mercedes reminded her with tender emphasis. “I had my beautiful, beautiful daughters, and through all these years they have sustained me.”
“You could have gone to school, Momma,” Eve protested. “A real school.”
“I could have been returned to Guatemala, just as Chandler threatened to do, but I was not,” her mother pointed out before clasping both her hands and staring into her daughter’s eyes. “Love him if you must; release him if you must, because you cannot hold one who does not feel the death of all he is inside, without you. If he does not feel that way at the thought of losing you, then you do not need him, precious. You deserve far better. If you carry his child, then treasure it; give it all the love you will find exists inside you the day your baby is born. But”—holding Eve’s hands tighter as she leaned closer, her momma sharpened her gaze, making it harder—“do not let him steal your soul, Eve. He can hold your heart and your woman’s spirit, but if you let him steal your soul, then you and your babe will only suffer for the loss. Your sense of adventure, your independence, and your love of the world you’ve created for yourself are yours alone. No one can take this from you if you do not allow it.”
Eve stared back at her mother in confusion. “What do you mean?” But she had a feeling she understood completely.
“Ah, Eve, you know what I mean,” she whispered. “You are letting this man steal your soul and it should not be his to own, unless he gives his in return. As long as you have that part of you, you will always have the will to ensure that he never breaks you, or breaks the joy you find with your child.”
Eve’s lips trembled for a moment before she found herself suddenly dry-eyed, that core of strength that had always sustained her finally awakening again with a vengeance.
“I can live without him,” she agreed.
Her mother’s fingers trailed over her cheek as an approving smile shaped her lips and filled her golden brown eyes. “You will weep often,” her mother assured her. “You will rage and you will cry and you will ask God why. But you will always find yourself again, and you will never sell your soul to a man who cannot love you. If he cannot love you with all his heart and all his spirit as well, then you are better off without him.”
Eve nodded. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around her mother and held on tight. “I love you, Momma,” she whispered.
“And I love you, my Eve,” her mother swore, hugging her just as fiercely. “And if you carry his child and he does not wish to be a part of your lives, then your sisters and I will surround you and that precious babe with all the love you could ever need. I promise you this.”
Eve nodded against her mother’s shoulder as a single tear escaped.
The last one, she knew. The last one for the child she had been until that final maturity had occurred in Brogan’s arms. One last tear for what might not be, and what she may not ever be able to fix.
She could love him, and she did love him.
But she would never again lose herself for fear of his walking away.
Or for fear of his taking her heart with him.
* * *
Timothy stepped back from the kitchen doorway, turned, and slipped through the dining room, his hands shoved into his slacks as a frown pulled at his brow.
He’d heard it all. Dawg had told him most of it at the reunion, then called later that night to tell him the rest. Neither he nor Dawg had been certain how Eve would deal with it, though. Whether she was strong enough to truly love and understand a man such as Brogan.
She was too strong for him, Timothy decided.
Hell, Eve was too good for the likes of Brogan Campbell and his damaged heart.
He’d give the boy a chance, though. Mercedes would ask that of him; he knew her well enough to know that. And there was nothing he could deny his Mercedes.
* * *
Showered and lying back on her bed, naked and relaxed for the first time since leaving Brogan at the cabin, Eve realized how desperately she had missed him.
Most of it had been her fault, she admitted. She’d kept herself away from the house and away from him until she’d heard he’d left town. Even Dawg didn’t know when he would return, and she was hesitant to ask Timothy.
Timothy was as protective over her and her sisters as she imagined he would have been over the daughter he had lost so long ago. Fortunately, she hadn’t had to rouse his suspicions; nor had she had to tempt that protective side of him.
Lying in the bed now, drifting in and out of a peaceful dreamscape, she found her memories turning to the pleasure she’d found in Brogan’s arms.
Those heated, completely destructive kisses. The way he touched her, as though he knew from one touch to the next exactly what she needed. The way he could make what should be painful, exquisitely pleasurable. A mix of pleasure and pain that she might be becoming addicted to.
As her body began to heat, to pulse with the memories, she found her hands straying to her body, stroking down her side, across her abdomen. One hand caressed her breasts—along the rounded curve, cupping one, her thumb sliding over the nipple as her breathing began to accelerate.
Pausing, her eyes opening on a frustrated groan, Eve moved from the bed and collected the dildo she’d bought for herself a few years before and had never used properly. After meeting Brogan, she had been determined that if he ever took her, then there would be no mistake that he was her first. That she had saved herself for him.
That veil of innocence was gone now. It had been given to the only man she knew would ever hold her heart as fully as Brogan held it.
The warmth beginning to rise in the tender tissue and delicate muscles of her pussy tormented her now. Her nipples and breasts ached, her body tingled for touch, and she was certain bringing herself to release would be better than nothing.
She had the memory of his touch, knew it as freshly as if he had just taken her the day before.
Lying back on the bed, Eve resumed touching, stroking. In her mind he was with her, drawing the breathless little moans from her lips and filling her with a hunger she couldn’t control.
Her own touch wasn’t nearly as heated and knowing. It wasn’t as instinctively experienced. But it was enough. Enough to build the need and the pleasure until she was able to slip the vibrating dildo inside the snug channel with a desperate moan.
She ached for him.
She needed him.
But if she had to, she’d live without him. Now all she had to do was convince her body of that.
* * *
The compensation package the Mackays wanted wasn’t easy to acquire. When it came right down to it, Brogan had to threaten Doogan with his father, and apprising the director of his actions, if he didn’t get it.
Nearly three days after leaving for D.C., Brogan drove back into Somerset after midnight and headed straight to the inn.
He’d missed Eve.
Admitting it hadn’t been easy. He’d lost two nights’ sleep, jacked off more than he wanted to, and found he didn’t get aroused in the slightest when he visited what had once been his favorite watering hole for drinks with his father.
He wasn’t a one-night-stand sort of person, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get aroused when obvious interest was shown. Until now. Until all he could think about was Eve and the feeling he’d had as he came inside her. That feeling that he could sense part of her soul that he had no right knowing. Parts of her heart that he knew no other man had ever felt, had ever gotten close to.
Pulling into the parking area and cutting the Harley’s motor, he breathed out a sigh of relief before slipping off his helmet and hanging it over the handlebars of the cycle. Looking toward the side of the house, he could see the faintest sliver of light beneath Eve’s curtains, and his cock came to instant attention.
For the briefest, briefest moment, a sense of knowledge shot to awareness inside him and his entire body tightened.
Son of a bitch, he knew what was going on, but he was damned if he wanted to admit to it. Not yet, at any rate. There was no way in hell he could have such a connection to a woman. That he could feel her, that he could imagine exactly what she was doing and know to the depths of his soul that he was right.
Blowing out a hard breath, he moved to the porch, making his way quickly along the wraparound porch and moving past the door to his own suite, toward Eve’s instead.
He didn’t bother knocking.
Sliding the key he’d lifted from her room and had copied before he left, he quickly, quietly unlocked the patio door and stepped inside.
“Fuck me,” he groaned roughly, his eyes widening, his breath stopping in his chest at the sight that met his eyes. “I swear to God, if you move, I’m going to die.”
She didn’t move.
Knees bent and lifted, her pretty delicate feet planted against the mattress, emerald eyes slitted and burning with lust, she slid the dildo free of her gripping little pussy until nothing but the head remained, then pushed it in slowly.
So fucking slowly he swore he held his breath waiting for it to stop. Her hips lifted, her breath catching as the toy delved deeper inside her until her lashes fluttered when she could take no more.
Closing the door carefully, locking it without taking his eyes from her, Brogan moved one hand to the buttons of his shirt and quickly released them.
Sitting in the chair next to the bed, he pulled his ankle boots from his feet, then stood and shrugged the shirt from his shoulders. He was breathing heavily as his hands went to the metal buttons of his jeans, released them, then quickly shed the jeans. Still watching her, fighting to remember how to breathe, he wrapped the fingers of one hand around his cock and watched her, mesmerized.
He stroked the hardened flesh from base to tip, a groan working from his chest as he watched the artificial dick pull free of her clenched inner muscles. It glistened with her juices as they clung to the latex form. The realistic design with its flared head and bulging veins was a poor substitute for what she wanted, though.
Desperate for her, his knees weak, Brogan moved to the bed, his jaw clenching as he watched her fuck herself with the dildo, watched the need burning in her eyes. Stepping to the side of the bed, he moved onto it carefully, kneeling on the mattress at her head as his gaze narrowed on the tube of lubrication next to her.
“Ah, baby,” he whispered, watching as her tongue flicked over her lips. “Keep fucking yourself with that toy dick.” Moving closer, he pressed his cock to her lips, watching in anticipation as they parted and her hot little tongue licked out to taste the head of his dick.
Her hand faltered, the dildo pausing in its strokes. Brogan slowly sank the head of his cock past her lips as her tongue rubbed against the sensitive underside and a breathy moan vibrated against his cock.
“Beautiful, beautiful Eve,” he moaned, reaching for the lube as she wrapped her fingers around the shaft of his dick and began working her mouth and tongue over the head as though she were starved for the taste of him.
That was okay, though; he knew what to do for her. He knew how to make her feel damned good. He knew exactly what to do to ensure that, once she came to her senses, those senses would be so infused with him that she wouldn’t have a chance at convincing herself to deny him.
“Ahh, sweet Eve,” he crooned, pushing the dildo slowly into her accepting body. “Let’s see what we can do to take care of you.”
With the dildo lodged in her pussy, the bare, saturated folds parted and gripping it snugly, Brogan carefully coated his fingers with the gel from the tube he’d found at her side. Spreading her legs firmly, he reached beneath the toy and found the tight, clenched entrance to her rear.
Sensual, lush, his Eve gave all of herself to him. Rather than stilling or freezing in shock at his touch there again, she lifted her hips, her thighs spreading as she surrendered the brave sensuality and erotic depths of the woman she was.
Clenching his teeth, reining back the need to satisfy his hunger like an animal desperate to fuck, he forced himself to be patient.
With one fingertip he began working the intimate little entrance open a little at a time. Using the lubricating gel as well as her juices as they wept from her pussy, Brogan prepared the entrance, then applied layer after layer of the cool gel as he worked his finger inside her.
The delicate bud of her clit swelled until it peeked above the folds around it. Her juices wept from her pussy, spilling along the folds, dampening her thighs and sliding slowly to the tight entrance of her ass as Brogan worked it open.
Her mouth worked on his cock, sucking and laving it; she drew on it with heated pulls of her lips as he felt her become lost to the hunger sweeping through her.
Little moans vibrated against the head of his dick, her desperation, her need to be fucked reflected in the deepening moans as he fucked his finger inside her ass.
As she began to take one finger easily, Brogan added another. Pressing inside her, he had to forcibly restrain himself, to do calculations in his head long enough to keep from giving in to the clawing, raking need to come—to end the erotic torture gripping his cock and balls.
Lifting himself until he was staring down at her, watching as he fucked her mouth with shallow strokes, Brogan knew there was no hell he could survive without her—without this.
He’d run out of time, though. If he didn’t pull back, it was all going to be over for a while. If he was going to take her as he was dying to do, better to do it in the first round. He wouldn’t last as long this first time, not after spending more than a week away from her, craving her.
Holding his breath at the sensual agony, he pulled back from her.
“What are you doing?” Moving to sit up before him, to capture his cock in her hands once again, Eve found herself flipped to her stomach instead as Brogan slid between her thighs, keeping her from closing them to hold the dildo inside her.
Pleasure streaked through her as he gripped the base of the fake cock and slid it back slowly before working it inside her once again. He repeated the move, sending forks of fiery sensation to attack the internal nerve endings and draw a ragged cry from her lips.
“Does it feel as good as I do?” he whispered behind her, his lips pressing against her spine, between her shoulder blades as she drew in a hard breath beneath him. “Tell me, baby, does this little dick feel as good as my nice thick one? Does it stretch your pussy as wide, make you as wild for the next thrust as I do?”
“No,” she cried out breathlessly, her hips lifting, thighs spreading as she arched.
Fuck, yeah, that was what he wanted.
The lubricated anal entrance glistened with a mix of the slick gel and her juices as she lifted to him.
He slid the fingers of his free hand along the narrow cleft that separated her rear cheeks. Finding the clenched opening again, he watched, his dick clenching and throbbing as he pressed the tips of two fingers against the opening. Easing them slowly against the puckered, nerve-ridden entrance, he watched as the delicate muscles slowly parted, accepted the tips of his fingers; then he felt the inner muscles draw his fingers inside.
Eve was suspended on the edge of pure electric sensation and racing shocks of burning pleasure. The feel of his fingers easing inside her rear as the toy vibrated gently inside her pussy was filling her with such pleasure she felt tortured by it.
“Damn, Eve, how I love your body.” He groaned behind her. “No matter what I do, it loves my touch. Loves every caress, every kiss, every penetration.”
No, she loved it. Loved every caress, every kiss, every penetration.
“Do you know what I’m going to do to this hot little rear of yours?”
She shivered beneath him, anticipation sending a rush of adrenaline tearing through her and sensitizing her body further.
“I’m going to stretch your pretty rear nice and sweet; then, when you’re taking three fingers instead of two, I’m going to leave that dick buzzing in your tight little pussy while I fuck this tight, hot little ass.”
Quivering, heat burning through her flesh, she thought the words should have been vulgar. They should have never turned her on with the force that shot through her, nearly pushing her into orgasm from the excitement alone.
Pulling his fingers back from the gripping, responsive flesh, he laid another kiss between her shoulder blades before straightening behind her. When his fingers returned they were cool and slick with the lubrication. His fingers slid inside her again, stretching her slowly, patiently. Pulling back again, relubricating his fingers, he returned.
This time the wider, burning penetration assured her he was reaching his goal.
The thought of taking him there, of feeling his cock throb inside her rear, had her juices rushing from her, spilling along the dildo lodged inside her.
“Do you like that, baby?” he crooned behind her, leaning over her to allow his lips to press to her shoulder. “You’re taking three fingers, sweetheart. You’re so hot and tight around them. It’s going to feel like sinking inside the tightest, hottest little flame. You’re going to burn me alive, Eve.”
If he didn’t burn her alive first.
His fingers pulled back. He moved over her again, supporting his weight on an elbow next to her shoulder as his lips brushed against her ear.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he growled as the thick, flared crest of his cock pressed between the cheeks of her rear and found the tender anal entrance.
“Brogan.” She was burning with excitement and a pleasure so heightened it was nearly agony. Eve’s breath caught at the feel of the broad crest pressing against the tender entrance.
Blistering, hot, the nerve endings the thick flesh stimulated sang in ecstasy, creating a feeling of such intense pleasure, such burning pain, that she had no idea which should be uppermost.
“Bring your legs together,” he said in a groan behind her, easing his legs from between hers until his knees bracketed her and she was suddenly gripping the fake cock vibrating inside her pussy as the additional pressure created a firestorm inside the delicate flesh.
It was the slow, searing impalement of her anus that was stripping her of any sense of reality, though. With each roll of his hips, each press of the thick cock head working its way inside her ass ravaged her self-control.
“Brogan.” She gasped his name, certain she couldn’t bear another touch, yet desperate to be touched everywhere.
Unclenching her fingers from the blankets at her sides, Eve slid one hand beneath her, her fingers finding the achingly hard tips of her breasts and enclosing one between her thumb and forefinger.
“Oh, God, Brogan, please. Please . . .” The sharp flare of heat that pulsed from the nipple she rolled and tugged at with burning pressure struck her to her clit, to her womb.
The muscles of her anus clenched around the throbbing tip of his cock, making her hungry for more as the vibration in her pussy rippled through her clit with an intensity she had never felt before.
His free hand gripped her hip as his lips smoothed down her neck, over her shoulder. As his teeth gripped the base of her neck at the point where her shoulder met the sensitive column, the head of his cock slipped fully inside the clenching, quivering entrance and sent a shocking surge of pleasure through Eve so intense it bordered on agony.
A hoarse, throttled scream escaped her as her hips jerked, lifting, pressing closer, fire and ice streaking across her nerve endings as her senses slipped into chaos.
“You belong to me, Eve,” he urged her softly, the deep, sexual tone of his voice sliding across her consciousness with an eroticism that pulled her deeper into the dark sensuality holding her captive.
There was no room for deceit, no place to hide or to deny what she knew was the truth.
“Tell me, Eve,” he demanded, his tongue licking over the bite before his lips moved to her ear. “Tell me you’re mine, Eve.”
“Yours,” she cried desperately, her anus clenching involuntarily as she fought to press closer, to drive his cock deeper.
At the same time, his hips eased forward, the added pressure suddenly driving the broad head past the snug ring of muscles that tightened in response to the pressure before the burning width cleared it. Ecstasy and agony poured through her senses. Fire and ice raked over nerve endings that seemed bared to his touch and screaming out at the overstimulation.
Her hips jerking, her back arching as she felt him drive in to the hilt, Eve cried out in tortured pleasure as her senses expanded in brutal awareness.
Sliding his hand between their bodies and finding the base of the dildo vibrating inside her pussy, Brogan found the controls. The gentle rasp became a furious, never-ending pulse of sensation that traveled through her vagina to the point where the nerve endings of her clit met the rarely touched flesh high within her pussy.
The stimulation rocked through her body as his hips moved behind her, driving his cock into the milking tissue of her rear.
Each stretching, burning stroke sent spikes of ever-increasing sensation tearing through her senses as she felt Brogan’s hand gripping her wrist, pulling her fingers down her body as he drove his cock inside her, stretching her anew with each thrust.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he growled behind her. “Let me feel you stroking that pretty clit, baby.”
Mindless, she concentrated her senses fully on every fiery stroke into her rear as the dildo’s hard vibration and the stimulation of her fingers against her clit sent rapid, driving pinpoints of sensation surging through her.
“Fuck, yes,” he snarled behind her, straightening, both hands gripping her hips firmly as he began to move harder, faster behind her.
He dragged his cock fully from the gripping channel, only to return immediately, fucking her to the hilt as an agonizing ecstasy tore through her, raking her senses with burning force.
Each hard thrust pressed the dildo deeper inside her, as each retreat lessened the pressure. Harsh groans spilled from her lips as each rasp of the vibrator’s tip against inner muscles connected directly to her clit had her begging—begging, pleading with the rapidly increasing pace of the strokes of his cock.
Eve couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She wasn’t going to survive.
“Fuck. Eve . . .” The growl of male ecstasy came as she felt herself unraveling.
Sensation. Agony. A pleasure that bordered on insanity.
Her orgasm tore through her, melting her senses as her pussy, the spasming muscles of her milking anus, the hard throb of her clit exploded in excruciating sensation. She was flung into rapture. Brutal waves of agonizing pleasure battered her senses as each nerve ending seemed to explode, sparking a conflagration inside her body that wiped her mind and sent her hurtling through chaos.
Fear could have dragged her back. The complete destruction of her senses could have been weakened by an inborn sense of survival that would have driven the sensual creature exploding in rapture back into the confines of her body.
But she wasn’t alone.
Brogan flew beside her, his spirit wrapping around her, infusing her, holding her secure in a world of blinding, overwhelming ecstasy.
She was crying. She could feel it, sense her own tears as the exploding pleasure threw them higher, harder, and bound her closer to the man leading her through each chaotic storm of rapture that tore through her.
The feel of his release spurting against the naked nerve endings inside her anus was an added pulse of sensation, another explosion.
“Mine,” he snarled, his lips at her cheek, the growl surging through her with another pulse of sensation. “Tell me, Eve. Tell me.”
“Yours. Yours,” she said in a sob. “Oh, God, Brogan. I love you. I love you . . .”
He owned her.
