There All Along by Megan Hart, Lauren Dane Page B

for years now, she realized.
    Big, strong hands slid down her torso and to her hips. He continued to kiss down her body until he got to her pussy and she shivered. Not from cold. From the sheer delight she knew she was about to enjoy.
    “Sit back.”
    She did, obeying, watching down her body as he pushed her thighs open and spread her with his thumbs.
    The room had warmed since he’d built the fire up, but his hands on her built the fire in her belly. His gaze found hers, locked as he kissed her knee and then up her thigh. He kissed her there, the heart of her, like it was her mouth. Fascinated, she kept watch, seeing his tongue lap, flick, taste her in such an intimate way it nearly sliced through her. No one had been this close to her and he reveled in it. She reveled in the way he touched her. Like he couldn’t get enough.
    This man of few words but for the occasional whispered dirty ones between them in the dim. He was thrilling. Exciting. Fearsome and not just because he was a walking weapon. But because he made her want things she knew she shouldn’t. And did anyway.
    Climax curled her toes, swept up her calves and thighs and burst over her until she indeed had to scream out, her face in a pillow from the settee should anyone be out on the street.
    He stood. “Face the back of the settee. On your knees. Brace yourself with your hands.”
    Still shaking from orgasm, she rose up and did as he’d said, the thrill of whatever he’d planned washing through her. He moved behind her, the heat of his body against hers after he’d gotten rid of his trousers.
    The head of his cock brushed against her and slid in easily as he grunted. “So wet.”
    She pushed back against him, her face burning with a blush. But not of shame. He never made her feel that for what they did together.
    He set a pace, fast, deep. She held on as the settee moved just a little bit as he thrust.
    “Want of you has set me on fire,” he murmured against the skin of her shoulder. “This is what I think about. Your sweet, hot, wet cunt wrapped around my cock like a fist.”
    She stuttered a breath, curving her back to take him deeper.
    Normally a chatterer, she found herself stunned silent by the things he said when it was just them, when it was this. Skin to skin, his body in hers. His hands caressing every part of her he could reach.
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    “Mine,” he whispered back, and she wanted to laugh. Yes, yes she was.
    Instead she nodded quickly. “Yours.”
    That seemed to satisfy him for a time as he continued to thrust. His teeth dug into the flesh of her shoulder as he groaned. The pain silvered into something else, something pleasurable as she felt the jerk of his cock deep within her, as she knew she made him feel this way.
Her
.
    She smiled against the fabric of the settee, the nub of it against her inflamed skin.
    “Let us nap for a time.” He stood back and picked her up, walking her not into his room, but hers. He pulled the blankets back and she moved over, giving him room to follow. Which he did.
    She moved into the hollow where his arm met his body, resting her head there. His arms surrounded her and she closed her eyes. Satisfied and unafraid.
    •   •   •
    H e awoke to the scent of coffee and fried meat.
    She spoke in low tones to someone, which is what brought him to his feet and into his pants. He had nowhere to come out but through her bedroom door and realized he wanted to be seen. Wanted whoever it was to know she was his.
    He froze, his hand on the knob.
Stupid
. Stupid to think in those terms. But there it was. He still tasted her, smelled her on his skin and he wasn’t ready to give that up. Wasn’t ready to give
her
up.
    He’d lived through a lot. Survived the loss of his family, years on the Highway. Battles. He brushed a hand over his belly, against the ridges of the scars he bore from a nasty ambush that nearly ended with his death.
    He’d driven up the Highway, seen the silvery gray