The day. As in . . . the future. Our future.
Goddamn it. I feel like howling at the blistering, unforgiving sun.
I’m a man of action, not reaction. Quick as can be, I reach out and snag my fingers into the side of her panties and with a rough jerk, rip them straight off of her. She gasps, but I’ve reached my breaking point. “Straddle my lap,” I bark out.
She stiffens at my tone but then, God love her, kicks her torn underwear aside, climbs up and over my lap, and with one hand braced on my shoulder to steady herself, takes my cock into the tight grip of her other hand.
I feel her wetness on the tip of me, before all mighty fucking hell breaks loose as she guides me into her body and bears down on me until I’m fully seated inside her.
It’s me who sees fucking stars. And her . . . and the look of pure bliss spreading across her beautiful face.
“Is it always like this?” she asks me, her tone raw, her question familiar.
“Never.”
I plant my feet on the wooden floorboards of the porch and push, rocking the chair back and forth, rocking my cock back and forth inside her.
“You do that again,” she groans, “and I’m going to come.”
I push so goddamn hard with my feet, the glide of the chair sends her chest tumbling into mine. I thrust upward, hard, arching my hips as I drive into her as far as I can go.
“Kiss me as I come,” I hear her hoarse whisper.
I bury my face into her chest and hold her tight as I rock into her. Feeling her limbs tighten around my thighs and her body stiffen as an orgasm tears through her.
I rock us back and forth, milking every last bit of her climax out of her. Lifting my head to kiss her collarbone, her throat, her cheek, the side of her mouth.
Gentle kisses.
From a hard motherfucker of a man.
She turns her head, her lips claiming my own. And I’m helpless to stop her. I give in, give into the sensation of her tongue mating with my own, the aggressive way she claims me, the intimacy of the act itself. I wrap my arms around her and drag her in tight, kissing her back, wanting everything.
The chair rocks, my cock gliding along the tight walls of her pussy until I’m crazy with lust.
With my hands on her hips and on the next forward roll, I rise off the chair to stand. I lift her high, withdrawing before I set her on her feet and spin her around. Quickly. I have to get back inside her fast or risk spilling my seed all over her lovely ass. “Climb up onto your knees,” I say, my tone low and barely audible.
My girl grips hold of the arms of the chair, clambers onto it, raising her ass in the air and smiling at me from over her shoulder. “Hold on tight,” I warn, as I line my erection up against her lips and thrust home.
I hiss as I pound into her. Rocking the chair backward in perfect time with my thrusts.
“Oh. Yes.”
I take everything I ever wanted from her and more. She pants and moans beneath my onslaught, tightening around me as another orgasm crests. But I’m too far gone.
“Madelyn,” I hear myself groan her name.
“Declan, holy hell, Declan,” she cries out.
I grit my teeth, battling to control my approaching climax, wanting her to come a second time. The chair rocks backward. I look upward at the sky, seeing stars beneath the porch overhang before curling my body over hers, placing a knee beside her body on the cushion and slamming my cock deep inside her, over and over, the slight sway of the chair forgotten as all I can think about is her.
Her cries of pleasure. How her pussy fits so beautifully around my cock. The way she smells, like sand and sunshine, covered in a salty sweat yet all lemony-sweet innocence beneath it.
“Come for me, baby,” I groan, my legs shaking harder than my hands as her pussy clenches me tighter.
“Yes, oh hell, yes,” she gasps in throaty, carnal tone that tears through my defenses and straight into my subconscious as I feel her tighten around me as an intense orgasm rips through her.
“Mine, baby. All mine,” I growl. Like a man possessed, as I let go, and go, and go, filling the condom with my come.
We stay locked together, with my body wrapped over hers, my semihard cock still inside her, the chair still rocking slightly from our fucking, for what seems like forever. Off in the distance, a coyote howls. I’ve been fascinated with them as a kid, how they hunt for small animals, insects, even fruit. How the male takes care of his female, bringing food for her and his babies. Is that what he’s doing now, hunting prey to take back to a den full of pups? Protecting what’s his? Caring for what’s his?
I stiffen, the irony of my thoughts not lost on me.
Madelyn sighs, and I realized I didn’t really give a shit anymore about pretense and pretending.
This is what it is and Hayden can go to hell.
“Declan?” she whispers, probably sensing the mind fuck playing out in my head.
I roll off of her and lift her up against me, turning and repositioning myself so I’m sitting in the chair with her body scooped across my lap. I pull her up against me and cradle her snuggly against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder, her brilliant blue eyes staring up at me longingly.
I lean down and, before I can grab hold of my senses, I place a soft, intimate kiss on her lips. Now it’s her turn to grin, and mine to scowl. What the fuck am I doing?
Is it . . . ? No. NO. I’m not going to give into that other foreign word. Ever.
“That was . . . something,” she says with a shy smile.
“Yeah. You’re something,” I admit.
She nestles into my chest. It feels . . . right. She feels right. I rock us back and forth in the chair until the sun begins its descent toward the horizon. I don’t remember the last time I felt so calm, so at peace.
“Declan, who is Jaxson?”
Shit. A stab to the gut would have been less unexpected. “What the hell did your sister say about him?”
“You know him too? Was he someone you both worked with?”
“Answer my question.”
She frowns at the harshness in my tone, then murmurs softly, “That he was killed, that’s all. Kylie’s kept so many secrets. But you should have seen her face when she mentioned him. Pure agony. She might have kept secrets from me, disappeared from my life without a word because of whatever she’s done, but there was no disguising the pain she’s in. She cared about Jaxson deeply. She’s suffering over his death.” Her voice breaks when she adds, “And she might be suffering right now in the hands of those men.”
Fuck. I shift in the chair, readjusting her on my lap so I can read her face clearly.
“God, you know him, don’t you? Was he her boyfriend? Lover? Kylie in love. How could she have kept this from me?”
“Yeah, she knew him. And now he’s dead. No more fucking lies, Madelyn,” I grind out. “What else did she say?”
“That she’s believed to be a traitor.” She furrows her eyebrows. “My sister is loyal, Declan. Please believe me. She’d never break her word.”
“Your sister is a liar.”
Madelyn stiffens and I clench my jaw. I’d trusted Jaxson, no one else. So did Kylie—on a deeper, much more intimate level. For her to set him up to be slaughtered like that, his face cut up to the point it’d been unrecognizable, pictures of his body with the word rat written across them had been the only evidence Hayden had received—or so he’d said…