Authors: Olivia Arran
“You came up in conversation.” There was no need for him to know that the conversation had been about Bert. “So, why was she so surprised?”
He set the cup carefully on the floor and propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his hands in a look of deep contemplation. “I’m a man of few words—”
“No you’re not!”
“I usually am, but around you I seem to be able to…talk.”
Bless him, he looked utterly perplexed. I took a deep breath. I might as well ask. “Is that because I’m your true mate?”
“Sweet Mother of All, who’s been running off at the mouth?” he groaned, rubbing a hand across his eyes, then collapsed back on the bed. “I didn’t want you to find out like that,” he mumbled from behind his arm.
My mouth had gone dry at the sight of his T-shirt inching up, exposing a flat stomach rippling with muscle, a thin line of blond hair running down the center and disappearing into his pants. “Um,” I tried to answer and failed miserably, my mind struggling to focus. What had I been about to say?
“Ana?” He peeked at me from behind his arm, drawing my eyes up to focus on the thick bicep that bunched with the movement, straining what looked to be flimsy fabric judging by the jagged tears down each side.
Jagged tears?
Before I even had time to think, my feet had darted forward, my hands reaching out to inspect the tears, searching for matching wounds.
“What—?”
There was nothing. Not even a scratch.
I blinked, heat burning my cheeks as awareness flooded me. I was crouched above him, my hands inside his T-shirt, legs straddling him.
Slowly I lifted my gaze, avoiding having to meet his. Could I back away? Kind of jump off him, like a dismount?
I started to slide my hands clear.
Large hands wrapped around my wrists, stilling my retreat.
“Ana, look at me.” The words were a gentle plea, one I didn’t expect to hear from such an obviously proud man.
Blue eyes stared at me, burning with intensity.
He cleared his throat, the sound nervous. “I’m not perfect, I know I’m not, but I’m willing to try and be. What I mean to say is I’ll work hard. No. Shit! That sounds like a fucking job interview! I’m not good at this—”
Before I knew it he had reached up and gently cupped my neck, his lips finding mine, soft and hesitant at first, then firming as he moved, teasing a response from mine.
But you’re damn good at this…
I sighed, unable to stop myself from responding, from sinking into his arms, from tilting my head to deepen the kiss. Unable to stop, not wanting to stop—it didn’t matter, only the kiss did.
***
Oliver
She was kissing me back, her breasts pressed tight against my chest, her pussy cradling my cock as she rocked back and forth, oblivious to everything but the moment.
Maybe words didn’t matter.
Groaning into her mouth, our tongues danced in a mimicry of our hips, thrusting and swirling, our hands grabbing and squeezing.
Rolling her over, I deepened the kiss even further, cupping and smoothing her hips, rubbing and grinding, desperate to plunge into her heat, to take her. My cock was thick and hard, straining with almost painful need, but I wasn’t going to push it, not with what she had been through.
I reached for her pants, flicking open a button, wanting to show her how it could be, how it should be.
She stiffened immediately, her eyes closing in what looked like pain.
“Ana, look at me.”
She shook her head, her eyes still squeezed shut, her whole body shaking. “You should stop. I’m a mated woman.”
“Did you take him as your mate?”
“I didn’t stop him.”
Her words tore at me, savaging the part of my heart that had recently been made vulnerable. “But did you accept him as your mate?” I whispered the words, trying to take away the sting.
Her lips twisted and a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, tracking down her cheek. “No.” The denial was so quiet, so empty of the emotion I knew she was hiding.
I kissed her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears and vowing then and there that she would never shed another, not if I could help it. “Then he’s not your mate. In the eyes of The Mother of All you did not accept him. It was biological, so you could bear him a child.”
Her eyes opened a fraction, wary with disbelief. “How can you be certain?”
“Can you feel him? If you were truly bonded in the eyes of the Mother you would feel his emotions, his thoughts.”
Please, please let me be right!
Her nose wrinkled up in disgust, her eyes narrowing. “No, I’ve never felt him. But that might explain why he didn’t do it. I overheard him saying once that he didn’t make us mate him because he didn’t want us to enjoy it. I didn’t know what he meant…”
Bile rose in my throat as exactly what Bert had meant became clear.
“You’re not a mated woman,” I repeated, a little firmer this time.
Her face went lax with relief, her body yielding once again below mine.
“Will you let me show you how it should feel?” I whispered, feathering her neck with kisses.
“What do you mean?” she gasped, her back arching as I licked her neck.
I mentally filed away the sensitive spot for later, replying, “Let me pleasure you, give you some new memories.”
“I don’t—”
I nibbled at her collarbone, deliberately rocking against her pussy, rubbing and teasing. “Don’t think, just want…”
“It doesn’t mean—” she gasped, her hips bucking under mine, “I shouldn’t want—”
“But you do,” I growled, my mouth moving lower, my tongue tracing a wet path over the curve of her breast, then circling the raised peak of her nipple through the thin fabric. Sucking the mound into my mouth, I flicked and nibbled, mentally cursing the barrier preventing me from tasting her skin.
“I can’t promise anything…” she moaned.
It was a green light as far as I was concerned. It was time to show her what intimacy with a man should really feel like. Looking up and holding her wide-eyed gaze, I flicked open the second button, then the third.
She stiffened as I slipped my hand inside, my fingers sliding through her damp curls, teasing and slow. Then she shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut, her head falling back on the bed.
Satisfaction roared through me. She was giving me her trust.
I had one chance to prove to her she hadn’t made a mistake, one I’d better not fuck up.
CHAPTER NINE
Ana
I shouldn’t be doing this…
but holy hell, I didn’t think I could stop! From the second he had touched me I had been lost, my body responding to his on the basest level, frantic with a need so foreign I didn’t know what to do with it.
His finger swirled across my sensitive flesh, each touch sparking a coiling heat and a sucked-in breath as I tensed beneath him, straining for—? For what?
My hands dug into the bed, curling and twisting the sheets between my fingers. He pressed harder, the resulting jolt shooting my hips off the bed. This
need
I felt... I didn’t know what to do with it. Pressure building inside, my mind spinning, trying to hold on, trying to understand.
A distant part of my mind registered a firm hand tugging at my jeans, peeling them down, taking my panties with them, but the finger continued to swirl and press, a delicious distraction.
Cold air caressed my thighs, a whispering in my mind that I should be scared. Being naked always meant—
“Ahhhh,” the gasp slipped from my lips as a thick finger penetrated my core, pushing deep inside in a smooth glide, my hips bucking to accept the intrusion, to welcome it.
It was a strange feeling, one of fullness, but not quite. Like I wanted something more. Then he started to move, at first a gentle rocking, one that tugged at me, pulling at my already sensitive nerves, then faster, the thickness pushing in and out, friction dragging and building.
A firm hand pressed down on my stomach, encouraging my now-arching back down onto the bed, then slid up my shirt, his work-roughened fingers sliding inside my bra to tease and caress my aching breasts.
He pinched my nipple, rolling the bud in his fingers, his other hand thrusting between my thighs.
It wasn’t enough, I needed…something.
Him.
“More,” I groaned, barely recognizing my own voice, the sound low and guttural. Needy. Wanton.
“No, this is for you.” His reply was a whisper, a pleading denial.
I shoved myself up on my elbows, wanting to see with my eyes, to see how much I wanted this, wanted him. “More,” I repeated.
His eyes were hooded, his lips drawn back in a grimace, his shoulders wide and tensed as his hand thrust in rhythmic movements, pushing me higher with each stroke.
I fought the compulsion to collapse back down on the bed, to give myself over to the sensations crashing through me. But I knew there was more. My body screamed for it.
“Oliver—”
“Oh, I’ll give you more, with pleasure. But this time is for you. Only you,” he murmured, his lips curling up and his eyes flashing with what looked to be anticipation.
What did he—
My thoughts splintered as he lowered his head, his tongue licking through my core in a sweeping motion, circling and lapping, his breath hot and wet on my thighs.
Hands flying from the bed, I gripped his head. My fingers threaded through the thick strands of hair as he licked and sucked, nibbled and teased, his finger driving me higher and higher.
I bit back the shriek that threatened to erupt, biting my lip, my neck straining. My hips thrust out as he pushed me further, my muscles tensing and juddering and my thighs squeezing his shoulders, all reserve gone, forgotten.
Simultaneously rolling my nipple, he sucked my clit into his mouth, his teeth grazing in a move that was almost pure agony. The burning inside me was almost hurting, it felt too good.
“Let go,” he growled, the vibration humming through me, licking at my frazzled nerves and sending me hurtling through that final wall, screaming into oblivion, my back arching and thighs trembling as I came.
A cloud enveloped me, holding me as I floated. Languid heat sunk into me, and my limbs were heavy and relaxed.
The bed dipped next to me, a heavy weight settling against me. Curling onto my side, I snuggled up, burrowing into the heat, refusing to open my eyes. “What
was
that?” I tried to say, but the words came out a slurred mumble.
“
That
is how it should be.”
I felt my lips curl up in a smile, and wondered if I looked like the cat who had just swiped all the cream, but dammit, I deserved it. “Thank you,” I whispered. He probably didn’t know what he’d just done, but he’d given me back a part of myself, something I thought I had lost to Bert forever—my confidence as a woman. “I was scared…I thought that he might have broken me for good.”
A low curse, then, “Hell, no, you’re not broken. I don’t think I’ve seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
I squinted up at him, taking in his clenched jaw, the strain on his face. “What about you?”
Catching my eye, he made a face, then chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it. It’s not going to kill me to have blue balls for a couple of hours.”
“You’d do that? For me?” I couldn’t get my head around it. I was used to men taking what they wanted and screw whether the woman enjoyed it or not. In fact, Bert always preferred it when we didn’t. I shivered, memories threatening to destroy the bliss I was floating on.
“I’d do anything for you.” He said the statement simply, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but my heart stuttered, missing a beat.
“Oliver,” I started, warning in my voice, “I don’t know if I can.”
“Don’t push me away yet. Give me some time to prove myself to you.
Please.
”
The plea was so heartfelt, I hesitated. “Okay. But I’ve got to put Josh first—”
Shit, Josh!
I bolted upright, my mouth hanging open in horror as I eyed the adjoining door. It hadn’t moved and was still pulled closed.
Had he heard us?
Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, hugging me against a hard, unyielding chest. “Don’t worry, I stifled your…um…cries.” He lifted an arm, holding it out in front of me for inspection.
Mortification flooded me as I identified two rows of teeth marks imprinted into his skin. I didn’t even remember. “I bit you?” I squeaked out, heat flooding my cheeks.
“More like I gave you something to bite.” He smirked, looking smug.
I jumped up from the bed and nearly went flying, my jeans tight around my ankles. Yanking them up I snapped the buttons shut, refusing to look at him. It was one thing being naked in the throes of passion, quite another to have my ass hanging out in the aftermath.
I mean, I hadn’t even seen
him
naked yet! Not even the top half. My mind took a U-turn as images assaulted me of him pulling off his T-shirt and sliding down his pants, slow and teasing. His cock springing out, as thick and long as I had felt pressing against me earlier.