Passion's Dream (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 1) (18 page)

Tears stung her eyes.  Lowering her gaze, she returned to her explorations, circling her tongue around the trench at the base of his flared head, digging at it like she was digging a ditch.

With a sharp, hissing intake of breath, Clay bucked his hips, shuttling his cock deeper into her mouth.  His hands came out and grabbed her head for balance, his fingers fisting in her hair.  “Christ, Leah!  That feels so good.  So fuckin’ good!”  His fingers tightened, tugging at her scalp, hard enough to bring pain, but she barely noticed.  “Now gather as much spit as you can, then take me all the way inside your mouth as far as you can.”

Raising up a little on her knees, she closed her lips around the head of his cock, bathing it in her saliva.  Then, hollowing her cheeks, she pulled him into the lush, silky haven of her mouth.

“Fuuuuuck!  Leah!” 
His body jerked in pleasure as the cry left his throat, shattering the peace of the wooded glade.

She pulled back up, palpating him with her tongue as she rose, sending another cry ululating through the glen.  Then, wrapping the base of his cock in her fist, she began fellating him in earnest, her head bobbing up and down, her hand twisting with each stroke.  She felt him thicken and jerk in her mouth.

“Fuck, Leah, I’m coming!  I’m coming!”  His thighs were shaking, every muscle in his body was taut as a violin string.  And then, with a shout of pleasure, his hips thrust forward and he blasted his seed against the back of her throat.  Releasing the seal of her mouth, she swallowed his load.  Speeding up the action of her hand, she coaxed another burst out of him, catching it on her tongue.  She slurped the next burst off of his cock, licking each subsequent dribble until she had cleaned him completely.  Releasing him, she looked up at him, a triumphant grin on her face.

His shoulders slumped forward.  His legs gave out and he fell to his knees.  Throwing his arms around her, he jerked her up against him, smashing her breasts against his chest, desperately seeking her mouth.  Her moan died in her throat as he crushed his lips to hers.  Opening her mouth with a sharp twist of his head, he swept his tongue inside, engaging hers in a frantic duel, tasting the faint remnants of his semen.  His hands were impatient as he reached between them, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, shoving them down her hips.  “Take them off,” he ordered against her mouth.  “Lie flat on your back, legs spread.”  He released her, straightening.

She battled with her jeans, trying to pull them off over her tennis shoes.  When that didn’t work, she just yanked her shoes off her feet, kicking the jeans off with them.  She lay back, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.  His hard-on was still huge.  It was like a giant club rising between his legs.  Her arousal spiked, robbing her of her breath.  The wild darkness in Clay’s eyes told her what he wanted from her.  More than mere submission.  Surrender.  Total capitulation.  Need wrapped around every cell of her body, igniting the hunger that always seemed to be just below the surface.  Need for this man and this man alone.  Slowly, provocatively, she bent her knees, licking her lips as she slid her feet outward and let her legs fall open, revealing herself to him, pink and swollen and completely hairless.  Her breathing hitched at the sight of his hand reaching for his still-hard cock, glistening with her saliva, fisting it much more tightly than she ever could.

His jeans were around his ankles, so retrieving a condom involved a bit of contorting, but he finally managed to open the packet and glove himself.  Crawling between her legs, he lowered himself onto his elbows on either side of her head, lowering his mouth to capture hers in a kiss that was a languid exploration, heating her blood until it was boiling in her veins.    He rubbed his cock up and down her newly-hairless slit, coating himself with her slickness, until it snagged on the entrance of her vagina.  Pleasure zig-zagged through her, a bolt of lightning straight to her core.  “Guide me in” he ordered, lifting his mouth from hers just long enough to speak those three words.  Then he went back to kissing her with skill, passion, and something deeper, something…softer.  Something she craved with every cell of her body.

Reaching down and grabbing his cock, she lifted her hips while he lifted his head, the liquid heat of his gaze burning into hers, holding her captive while he flexed his hips forward, entering her one excruciating inch at a time.  She felt her tissues parting, opening up as his cockhead advanced until he was in all the way.  The breath hung suspended in her lungs as he hovered above her, stretching her, filling her, gripped by her clenching muscles.  “Christ, Leah, you’re so tight.  So sweet.  I love fucking you.”

  Then she felt her tissues collapsing, closing in on the emptiness he left behind as he withdrew inch by excruciating inch.

With just his cock head remaining inside her, he lifted himself up slightly, balancing his upper body on one hand to stare down at where their bodies were joined, watching avidly as his glistening cock slowly disappeared inside the raging inferno of her cunt.  He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, keeping his strokes slow and steady, varying the angle of his thrusts to stimulate every part of her clenching inner walls.

“Harder,” she begged, licking her lips.  “Faster.  “Please, Clay.”

“All in good time, baby,” he soothed.  “I want to savor this—savor you.  I took you so fast last night, I didn’t get a chance to do that.  I want this time to be about the journey, not just the destination.”

Her response was to close her eyes, throw her legs around his waist and lock her ankles behind his back, thrusting her hips upward.  Her inner muscles flexed, sucking him deeper into her heated core.  “Please…please.”

Clay gritted his teeth. 
Christ! 
Her body was heaven!  It would be a miracle if he survived this so-called journey.  Sucking in his breath, he gave her what she so obviously wanted.  What she so obviously needed.  He sped up, thrusting in and out, caressing her tender tissues with heat and light that exploded behind her eyelids in starbursts of pleasure.  His energy closed over her, swamping her, sending a current of electricity sizzling through her.  Her muscles convulsed around him as he built her orgasm with every pistoning motion of his hips.

He rammed inside her, driving as deep as it was possible to go, as if he were trying to pierce her very heart.  She moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounded into her like a battering ram.  Grunts and groans, the animalistic sounds of mating, rent the air as the coil within her grew tighter and tighter.  He pumped his hips, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he drove them both higher and higher, until, with a howl, she exploded beneath him, her convulsing body pulling him over the edge right behind her into destruction.  Their cries shattered the quiet as pleasure crashed over them in monstrous waves, tumbling them, dragging them under, slamming them against the rocks.  Until the convulsions heaving through them slowed and finally stopped, leaving them limp and exhausted.   Clay slid his arms beneath her and held her tight.  Bodies still connected, he rolled onto his back, pulling her around to lie atop him where she sprawled like a sweaty blanket.  Finally, his penis deflated and slipped out of her.

He just lay there holding her with one arm, stroking her hair with the other hand as their pounding heartbeats returned to normal and their breathing slowed.  “Lift up, baby,” he said quietly.  Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed herself up, looking at him through eyes that were dazed and unfocused, her tousled hair in wild disarray around her head.  He rolled her off of him onto the blanket.  “Stay right here, love, I’m going to get something to clean us up.”

“Oh, not that cold water,” she protested.  “I’d rather go home reeking of sex than bathe in ice water.”

Clay just chuckled.  “I have some wet wipes in Hercules’ saddlebags. I’ll be right back.”  He went over to the horse, who had been quietly munching grass through the entire scene.  When he came back, he ripped open several packets and wiped as much of her as he could.  Then, while she was putting her clothes back on, he tied off the condom and cleaned himself.  Careful to pick up every scrap of trash, he put everything into a zip-lock bag and zipped it shut.  He looked up to see Leah eyeing him skeptically from beneath raised eyebrows.  “What?” he asked.

“Nothing.  You just seem awfully well-prepared for a spontaneous outing to the falls,” she commented.

He laughed.  “Believe me, there was nothing spontaneous about it.”  He waggled his eyebrows.  “This, my lady, was a carefully planned seduction, designed to ravish your senses and render you insensate, so as to take advantage of your ripe, luscious body.  So how’d I do?”

“No complaints on this end.”  She grinned, letting him take her hand and pull her up off the blanket, which he proceeded to fold.  “Do you…um…do you ravish many ladies here?”
  Omigod, I can’t believe I just asked that!
  She bit her lip as her cheeks heated.

He stopped, turning to face her.  When she couldn’t raise her head to look at him, he curled his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his.  “I have never brought any woman to this spot, Leah.  You are the first and only woman I
have
ever, or
will
ever, share this place with.”  When she didn’t respond, he added, “Even if you decide to return to your life in San Francisco, there will never be another woman in this place.”

“This place is very special to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.  I come here whenever I need to unwind.  Or meditate.”  He hesitated.  “Or pray.”

“You pray?” she asked curiously.

“Yes.  To the spirits of nature.  They are all strong in this place.  Earth, air, sun-fire, and water.  I know they watch over me and that’s why I wanted to make love with you here.  So they would see how special you are to me and know to watch over you, too.  Not just here, but wherever you go.”

Tears clogged her throat, welling up in her eyes.  God, where did he find the words he used?  He was a SEAL.  A warrior.  A man whose character had been shaped by poverty, neglect, tragedy, and violence.  Yet his words were like poetry
.  Like a song so beautiful, it ravishes the heart.
  She just stared up at him, unable to put thoughts into words.  How could she even
think
of leaving someone whose every word was spoken straight from the heart?

As Clay watched, one lone tear spilled over her lower lid and started down her cheek.  He bent his head and licked it away with the tip of his tongue, absorbing the chaos of her emotions into himself.  Into that deep, inner stillness that was at the core of his being.  “C’mon, baby.  Let’s get back to the house.  I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

The ride back to the house was uneventful.  Too hungry to shower first, they raided the sub-zero freezer and found that Hector had left stacks of neatly-labeled casserole dishes with the names of the meal and the dates they were to be eaten written on strips of masking tape.  Nothing like a former Navy man to keep things neatly organized.  They decided on spaghetti, nuking some frozen sauce, heating three loaves of frozen garlic bread in the oven, and boiling angel hair pasta because that cooked the fastest.  Leah was just slicing the last radish into an enormous bowl of salad when Mitch, Ray, Al, Mark, and Rusty came walking into the kitchen, and she had to suppress a laugh.

They had dressed up!  No more dusty boots, jeans and hats.  No more sweat-matted hair.  No more hay clinging to their clothes.  To a man they were combed, spit-shined and polished.  Mitch had even shaved!  Clay watched, bemused, as the five men fell all over themselves practically fighting to be the first to pull out Leah’s chair, get her something to drink, fill her plate with food.

As they talked, she learned more about each one.  Ray Sadler wanted to go to college and major in animal husbandry so he could open a sanctuary for wild mustangs.  Mitch Thompson wrote his own songs and performed with his band, The Midnight Riders, every Friday and Saturday night at Passion Lake Lodge.  Rusty Madison was studying to be a big animal vet.  Al Eaglefeather was happy exactly where he was.  He loved working for Clay and he loved the woman he was courting, one Linda Patterson, a retired NYPD Lieutenant who had come to Passion Lake to do a little fishing and had liked it so much she’d decided to stay.  She was now Passion Lake’s only female deputy sheriff.  Mark Austin had grown up around thirty miles down the road from Passion Lake, in the little town of Marshall’s Creek, and he was more than Clay’s foreman.  He was also a junior partner in Clay’s fledgling horse breeding business.  He lived in his own house, a log cabin set in a wooded copse, a little farther down the driveway.

After dinner, the guys put the dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned up the kitchen, and left.  “See you later, Leah”

“Later?”  She just looked at them blankly.

“At the town meeting.”

“Oh.  Right.  The shareholders’ meeting.”
 
She’d forgotten all about that.

“What time does the meeting start?” she asked Clay after they’d left, letting the kitchen door slam shut.

“Eight o’clock.  Why don’t we go grab a shower and then you can call your Uncle Everett, let him know you’re okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”  His grin was wicked.  “You have no idea what awaits you in…The Shower!”  He lunged for her, sending her scampering out of the kitchen, squealing with delight.  She dashed up the stairs and down the hall into their bedroom with Clay right behind her, uttering deep-throated growls.  “You’d
better
run, little girl.  You are about to be ravished!”