Splinters (10 page)

My hope and desire twist painfully and wither inside me. I press my face into the pillow, shocked and… Well, heartbroken. What had I misunderstood? What had he? Maybe I should’ve been more blatant about my expectations.

I frown at the damn door. Should I have drawn him a picture?

Even if he didn’t know exactly what I expected, why wasn’t he up here making his own wants known? Unless…
Oh
. Unless he didn’t want me after all.

But why kiss me like that? Why hold me and whisper such wonderful things? Why let me stay?

Damn
. Was he afraid someone might find out? He couldn’t possibly think Elsie would care at all, considering the things she’d said. Mia wouldn’t still live here if she had a problem with Duke bringing a guy home, would she? Not even one he’d found tied up like a gift for him on his own land. And the teasing from Ray and Toby had felt fond, brotherly even, so Duke couldn’t—

He’s peeking! Or he peeked because it was only for a second before he withdrew.
Shit
. I should’ve been sitting up, the light on, ass in the air,
some
thing to let him know he better come inside. Now he’s walking away, boards groaning in the hallway. Damn the man. He is
not
getting away from me this time.

I throw off the sheet and tiptoe to the door. I’m wearing my favorite white panties with the lace ruffles at the hips and a matching camisole, so I’m technically decent. I don’t need one of the girls seeing me like this, though. The hall’s empty, lights off downstairs, and all I can hear is the quiet sound of the radio in Elsie’s room. I dash down the hall to Duke’s door.

He’s left it open about a foot and, honestly, is that not the universal
come join me
sign? If he doesn’t want to be bothered, he’d have closed his door. Right?

I poke my head in. “Duke?” I stage whisper because if I’m going to be denied it’ll be before I’m inside. I don’t want him to see how it’ll crush me.

“Al?” he whispers back, and I can see his shadowy figure sit up. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

“I thought we were going to…you know. Didn’t I make myself clear?”

He hesitates. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Oh.”

He clicks on his bedside light and the fat belly of the lamp casts a pale yellow glow across the acre and a half of bare skin and dark gold fur covering the front of him.
Sweet heaven
… I stumble into the room, drawn like a moth, and both of us gasp.

“Shut the door,” he says.

I hesitate now. Which side of it am I supposed to be on?

“Allan, shut the damn door and get over here.”

I spring into action, clicking the door shut, twisting a little lock, and then two long strides bring me to the side of his big bed. He’s staring. His honey-brown eyes rake over me and make my every erogenous zone heat with want. What will he say? Where will he touch me first? What does he want?

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers and grasps my hand.

I hum and smile. “You’re such a sweet man.”

He grins. “Not completely.”

“No?” I caress along his cheekbone with my fingertip. “Am I inspiring naughty thoughts, too?”

He swings his legs over the side of the bed. The sheet continues to conceal him from my sight, but the thrill of standing over him while he looks up at me, gaze burning with desire, distracts me completely. I want him to never stop staring at me like this.

Duke releases my hand so he can rest his big, warm palms on my bare calves. I shiver when he glides those hands slowly up the outsides of my knees. Along my thighs he caresses and his fingers pause to flex against my muscles.

“Such gorgeous long legs,” he whispers and rests his hands so his fingers cup the barest edge of my butt and his thumbs slide back and forth over the lace along the legs of my panties. “Your skin’s smooth like satin, but warm and supple. To have this—” his fingers reach higher and give my ass a brief squeeze “—be real satin and so pretty makes me want you somethin’
fierce
.”

He kind of growled that last word. I swallow hard, gasping for breath already. He’s barely touched me and I feel devoured. I open my mouth, ready to hand myself over, but his hands are going up my chest and my back. One’s under the camisole to tease ribs and flick an eager nipple while the other stays on top of the satin and presses it into my skin. I whimper and shudder for him.

“Look at you,” he says all gravel-voiced. “You’re fallin’ apart right here like this.” And his grin says he likes that.

“Duke.” I lick my lips and brace my hands on his shoulders. “Oh, God,” I say because touching his hard muscles and hot skin has taken away my words.

“C’mere, pretty boy.”

He tips his chin up and those hands on my hips now urge me down to him. I practically collapse onto his lap. The inside of my thigh rubs against the outside of his, little hairs teasing me. Our other thighs have caught the sheet between them. Differences like that—skin to skin, skin to cloth—like all of what I’m wearing, drives me wild with want. I press us close together and moan just from feeling the cushion of his chest hair against my top and the thickness of our erections separated by panties and sheet.

“So sexy,” he murmurs, his voice near subterranean in its rumble. “Just kiss me, Al. Kiss me.”

There’s a desperate sound out of me and I’m panting so hard as his hands continue to wander over my body. I can’t do much more than press my parted lips to his, feel his mustache tickle my so sensitive skin. I’m shaking, I’m so aroused. I try to calm down, ease up, with deeper breaths and just hold onto the solidity of him. But he’s breathing hard, too, right up into me, and his hands—damn and bless his hands—pull me down while his hips roll up. More whimpers, more clinging, and I’m grinding against him when his tongue reaches into my mouth, wet and agile, to tease mine out to play.

We’re kissing with force and passion. Jabbing, sucking, nipping and all the while gasping for air and holding so tight to each other. I make sounds like sobs and I can’t stop them, they’re my answer to his every growl and groan. He holds me with such strength, I can’t move anymore and that’s probably good because I could come like this, kissing him, touching him, feeling him explore me.

Knowing he wants me as desperately as I want him.

I throw my head back, struggling for air, only to suddenly gasp in surprise as he flips us around. I’m on my back on his bed, the sheets cool against my enflamed skin. Duke’s above me, pausing so he can look, those deep, dark eyes taking me in. He smiles, looking pleased and eager, and a laugh bubbles out of me.

He takes my breath away all over again as he tosses the sheet away so he can move over me fully. I catch sight of his heavy, red cock before all I can do is feel it slide across my inner thigh all hot and wet. I moan when he settles his hips on mine, the pair of us thick and pulsing side-by-side. He lifts my cami up under my arms so he can press his hairy chest against my smooth skin. I pull him down, wanting his weight, and lean up to recapture his mouth.

His hand, his forearm, snakes under me and along my lower back to hold me close. I can feel his other hand cradling the top of my head and, for a moment, I regret the loss of my hair again. He could’ve tangled his strong fingers in my hair, tugged a little, felt it glide over him. But when he speaks, I forget.

“Baby,” he whispers breathlessly against my cheek. “Aw, baby.”

Tears burn my eyes. I hear so much in that little word. It’s exactly what I crave. I want to be somebody’s baby, the one he’ll take care of and watch over and love.
My God, it’s so fast
. But I whisper, “yes,” and stare up into those expressive eyes because I’m in, I mean it, I’m his.

Duke smiles sweet and happy. If he knows how far I’ve fallen for him already, he’s okay with it. That’s acceptance there in his rugged face. The pace doesn’t matter right now.

With the hand he has under me, he manages to grasp the waist of my panties and pull. I lift my hips and he shifts upward to let me. He stops, distracted by my bare butt in his palm, and the panties are caught under my cheeks while now restricting my cock with even more pressure. For a moment, it feels exceptional to have him kiss me deeply and squeeze my ass while he rumbles. But then I just need the damn things off before I lose my mind.

I wiggle and reach down, annoyed with having to stop touching him. But my panties are rolling, not coming off and I’m killing my own mood. “I can’t get them off,” I whisper urgently. The formerly favored panties bind my knees. I reach down, try to shift.

Duke’s knee slides over my leg to pin the satin and lace to the bed. He’s deliberately holding me down.

“Looks like you’re stuck.” He slides a rough palm up my side and under my arm to make me raise it over my head with the other one. He wraps his big hand around both of mine, leaning and holding my wrist. “I’ve got you now.”

He’s trapped me. I’m trapped.

I can’t breathe. Being manhandled has been fun in the past. But there’s this new element, from this morning, that’s suddenly clawing at my guts to make me get away. Escape.

My voice quavers when I say, “Oh, shit.” I can barely hear myself over the whooshing of my blood past my ears. Am I about to faint?

Duke’s eyes widen and he releases me a second later. He even goes so far as to sit up and pull my panties off so my legs are completely free. Then he’s just staring at me, waiting.

I take a breath and make tense muscles relax. “I’m okay.”

“Wasn’t thinkin’. I’m sorry, Al.”

I watch him watching me. He might’ve been able to read the alarm, but he’s not yet seeing the all clear. I reach for him because, yeah, that scared me, but I’m not done with him.

“It’s fine. Really.”

“No, it wasn’t.” He takes my hand, but resists me pulling on it. “You looked like you were about to panic.”

“But I didn’t. You fixed it.”

“Shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

I shake my head. “Stop beating yourself—”

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

I smile and sit up, run my fingers through his hair. “You’re not. I promise you’re not.”

He stares at my chin, not meeting my eyes. “I was pinnin’ you down, forcin’ you how I wanted. I wasn’t thinkin’ about this morning. I was just wantin’…” He exhales a frustrated, growly noise.

“And that’s fine, Duke.” I lean against his solid chest. “Look, even if I’d been worried about what kind of lover you might be, I wouldn’t be anymore. You just showed me that, even though you might like being all toppy, you don’t want to scare or force me. You took care of me. Still are.”

His gaze finally meets mine. He shifts closer.

“Duke, I can tell you’re a good man.” I lift my leg up to hook my knee over his hip. “And I still want you.” I kiss at his stubbled chin.

He takes a deep breath while I nibble. Slowly, he lets that air out again, and I can feel him relax. He lays back and urges me on top of him. I get it; he doesn’t want me feeling trapped by him again. That’s okay. I straddle his thighs, line up our groins, and ease down to rest against him. Smiling for the warmth and solidity of his body against mine, I close my eyes and hum my pleasure.

“That’s it.” I lean forward to kiss him, but use the tip of my tongue to touch his mustache first. It tickles, making me laugh. He smiles like he thinks I’m silly, then palms the back of my head to pull me down for that kiss. I officially like mustaches. It’s not even the Tom of Finland thing, but the scrubby feel on my lips. Scruffy, manly men are like this. Bad boys, pirates and cowboys…

I move to let us breathe and our cheeks rasp together. His hands are all over my bare lower back and the cami covering the rest of me. Like he’s comparing the sensations against his palms. I’m not at all surprised when he says, “You mind keepin’ this thing on?”

I grin at him. “I don’t mind.”

“Not that you don’t have a hot body, but this…” He fists the satin against my back. “This feels like nothin’ I’ve known before. It feels amazing.”

I knew he liked it, but to have him say it, truly appreciate it… I gulp some before I can speak. “It feels amazing to me, too.” I rub our chests together, the cami and his hair acting like a cushion between us. “That’s part of why I like dressing like this. The sensation of the material on my skin makes me feel beautiful. Sometimes… Sometimes I just need that.”

He nods, his hands roaming over me, eyes taking everything in. “You want to feel beautiful, darlin’, you go right ahead. Don’t matter to me what you wear.” He smiles, then leans in and says near my ear, “Butch or femme, you’re beautiful to me.”

He gets it. Oh, my God, he
understands
me. I tremble in his arms, dropping my head onto his shoulder. Men have accepted it—some grudgingly—but never on this level. I won’t care that I’m falling for him. I want to fall.

Duke hums against my neck. I shiver. While he kisses and sucks at my throat, I grip his short hair and hold on, giving up moan after moan. A swirl of his tongue makes me clutch at him. Then his arms are pulling me closer and—

“Oh, Jesus, Duke.”

Our cocks are so hot and thick between us. I grind down on him, reveling in the feel and scent of us, and one hand lands on his pec. A nipple’s beading against my palm, and it makes me grin. Curling over him, I nuzzle through the fur on his chest and find that nub with my lips.

The sudden thrust of hips and his bass groan let me know he’s the kind of man who gets that sweet shock of pleasure from tit to cock. Love that. I’m one, too, but he’ll have to return the favor next time. Right now, I worry that tight bit of flesh with lips, tongue, and a flash of teeth.

I miss my hair for another moment when he holds onto my head and there’s nothing for him to grip. But I realize, if I hadn’t lost it, I might never have found Duke. Moving back up to devour his mouth, I know it’s a fine trade-off. Hair grows back. I need this man.

It’s crazy fast, our connection. I know it, and I’m pretty sure he does, too. But, oh God, I don’t want to be rational or cautious. He’s been my knight and now he’s my fantasy, and I just need him. To hell with everything but making this man mine.
Mine
.

His thighs spread under me, and the next roll of our hips bumps everything together. My nuts meet his, bobbling around, getting squished, and it’s
so good
. Slick skin pulls everywhere, his little hairs, me so naked, and the next rub seems to tug at my hole. I’m gasping into the kiss, then his big hand’s palming my ass, a couple fingers gripping, and my hole’s tugged from both sides. The sensation of being opened like that makes me wail a little and grind into him harder.