She was addictive. Something he’d hungered for without knowing exactly what it was or how or where to find it. Now he had her. And she was hot and sweet. Like ambrosia.
He was dying for her.
As he tasted her, he used a thumb to circle her clit, play with it, brush against it. He could feel the surging sensations gathering inside her, taste it against his tongue. And when he felt her orgasm race over her, he nearly lost control of his own.
He’d be damned if he was going to come on the sheets instead of inside the sweet heat of her pussy.
Rising to his knees, he pushed her thighs apart, moved between them, the painfully engorged flesh of his dick pounding in need. Positioning himself at the entrance, he began pushing inside her.
She couldn’t take all of him at once.
So fucking tight, clenching the head of his dick, milking it, pulling at the seed in his painfully tight balls. And fuck him. No condom. Son of a bitch.
He looked down at her, a question in his eyes.
She looked back up at him and nodded.
“I need to hear it,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Yes. Yes, please,” she said, breathless.
The clench and release of her vagina bit around the head of his cock with ever increasing waves of sensation.
She was climbing for him again.
As he began penetrating the fist-tight grip of her body, she began climbing to the next orgasm. And he’d feel it when she came. It would kill him. Not spilling inside her might give him a stroke, but he’d feel her. Naked and hot against the oversensitive head of his dick, her flesh stretched so tight around him, he’d feel every ripple, every contraction of her orgasm.
Coming over her, his lips caressed her breast, a hard, little nipple, stroked to her neck where he caressed the sensitive flesh as her nails dug into his back. With a groan he surged completely inside her, pulled back, and thrust again. Each hard impalement dragged a cry from her lips as her body began to vibrate with the need to explode around him again.
He held her there, poised on that razor edge, each thrust different, short, then filling her until she screamed that he do it again.
“Sweet baby,” he groaned. “You gonna come for me again, honey? Come around my dick, Sallie. Let me feel you fly.”
He thrusted inside her hard and deep then, again, powerful thrusts that pushed past the clenched flesh stretching it, stroking inside her, giving her that striking border of pleasure and pain.
“Jacob…” His name tore past her lips. “Oh God, Jacob. Hold me. Please hold me.”
He increased the tempo of his thrusts as his arms went around her, holding her, keeping her close to him. He felt her when it hit her. Her body tightened until the tension sang through her flesh. A wail parted her lips, breathless, gasping and the heated depths of her pussy locked down on his cock in a sensual vise.
Fuck.
Her come rained over the throbbing head of his dick, causing his balls to clench dangerously.
He’d never come inside a woman … Hell, he’d never fucked one bare like this. A violent pulse of pleasure shot up his spine as wracking shudders tore through Sallie. Her pussy sucked at his erection from base to crest, pushing him closer. Too fucking close.
His hips jerked back, the head of his cock barely clearing the ecstatic grip of her pussy before his seed shot across her thighs. Jacob moaned at the sight.
Goddamn. He was going to fuck her bare again. It was too damned good, too fucking hot. He wanted to bury himself deep and mark her with his release, spill inside her and …
He was fucking insane.
chapter three
Sallie pulled the collar of her blouse a little higher against her neck and tried to tell herself no one was going to see what Jacob had done to her the night before. She wondered if he was able to hide what she’d done to him.
Pushing through the back entrance of Dillerman’s, she ducked her head, avoiding the gazes of the men working on the loading dock and hurried up the stairs to her office.
If she stayed at her desk today, kept her head down, and didn’t make her usual rounds, then she might actually manage to keep anyone from knowing for certain that she’d slept with the town’s local legend. The love bites he’d left on her neck would proclaim her a liar, though.
Closing the office door behind her, Sallie leaned against it and blew out a hard breath.
She’d tried countless times to tell herself the marks weren’t really as bad as she thought they were. She’d never had a love bite before, so of course that would make the marks seem worse, she reasoned. Wouldn’t it?
She knew better. Even with the makeup she’d tried to apply, the fact that Jacob Donovan was a wild man in bed showed itself on her flesh.
Something he hadn’t done that first time. He hadn’t marked her skin, just her heart, her passions. Somehow, he’d managed to imprint his touch on her in a way she’d never been able to forget.
After he’d taken her the second time, he’d all but jumped from the bed and run to escape. As she watched him in silence, he’d dressed, his expression closed and hard, pulled on his socks and boots, and simply walked out. She still didn’t know why. She had no idea what she’d done wrong, or what he wanted that she hadn’t provided.
She should have never left the bar with him. She should have just told him to meet her at the house and hide his truck in the back so no one could see it. Then, she’d never have to face the fact that she’d failed to satisfy Deer Haven’s legend. Again. Or that he was more lover than she’d known how to handle. Shaking her head at the futility of even trying to guess at what she’d done wrong, Sallie pushed away from the door and strode to her desk. Collapsing in the leather chair behind it, she propped her elbows on the smooth wood and buried her face in them.
Jacob had been her only lover, despite the facsimile of a marriage she’d endured for nearly a year. Her lover had left her and not come back, her own husband hadn’t wanted to touch her, and once finished, this time, Jacob had run even faster than he had the first time.
At this rate, she may as well just stamp “failure” on her forehead and be done with it.
An abrupt knock on the door had her lifting her head, her hand falling to the collar of her shirt to make certain it was in place as the door pushed open and her assistant strode in.
Tara Danner placed Sallie’s morning cup of coffee on her desk, stepped back, and crossed her arms under her breasts and stared down at her reprovingly. She was several inches taller than Sallie with short black hair and vivid blue eyes. She’d been a life saver when Sallie had first moved to Deer Haven. The woman knew everyone, and her insights into the customers and possible problems had been invaluable.
“What?” Sallie demanded as Tara continued to frown at her.
“We have gossip,” Tara informed her as though it were some kind of store emergency. “Something about you and Jacob Donovan leaving a bar together and his truck being seen at your house?”
Sallie widened her eyes in mock shock. “Seriously? I believe I may have spoken to him in the bar.”
Yeah, that one wasn’t going to fly.
Especially when Tara pulled her smartphone free, pulled up a picture, and showed it to Sallie.
Yep, that was her house, and that was Jacob’s truck.
“Wanna try again?” Tara’s lips twitched in amusement.