Master of Solitude (Mountain Masters & Dark Haven Book 8) Page 4

  “The CEO doesn’t use the pastures?”

  Mallory shook her head. “He’d planned to retire here and died instead. Apparently, it took forever to settle his estate, and now his son is trying to sell the place, which is extremely bad timing. With the prison closure, houses are getting dumped on the market right and left. I doubt if he’ll sell anytime soon.”

  “What a shame. It’s beautiful land.” After taking a sip of his drink, he studied her, not at all uncomfortable with the ensuing silence.

  His eyes held a masculine appreciation—and heat—she wasn’t used to seeing.

  And oh, she wanted him to touch her. The desire ran through her, so disconcerting that her gaze dropped.

  She groped for something to say and found a question rising. When he spoke of the land, it was of pastures and cattle. But he didn’t have an outdoorsman’s tan. “Do you raise cattle?”

  “Nope. But I grew up on a horse ranch—with cattle on the side. Gotta say I miss the life.”

  Puzzled, she pushed her hair back behind her ear. “Then why don’t you return to it?”

  “That’s a very good question.” He started to smile and frowned instead. Cupping her chin, he tilted her head and touched the side of her jaw. “You acquired some bruises, baby.”

  She worked construction; bruises were common. Being touched like this? Looked at like this? She tilted her face into his hand, seeing the way his eyes darkened. Yes. He wanted her.

  After brushing a light kiss over her lips, he pulled back.

  Disappointment streaked through her.

  Trying to figure out how to seduce him, she lifted her glass. Her second drink—okay, another couple of shots or so—started down even more smoothly. At least before he removed the glass from her hand.

  “Mallory, alcohol impairs judgment. Time to stop.”

  Meeting his firm gaze, she lifted her chin. “I wanted you long before I had the first sip. I haven’t changed my mind.” She reached for her drink.

  “I see,” he said thoughtfully. He set her glass out of reach and put his own down. “In that case, come here, pet.”

  She took a step forward—and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Kissed her.

  His lips were warm. Firm. Teasing over hers. When she didn’t open to him immediately, his hand closed on her hair and pulled her head back. Her gasp was smothered by his mouth and his invading tongue. And he took her over, possessed her mouth, teasing her with his tongue, retreating to nibble and suck on her lips, and kiss her neck before returning for more.

  A fire ignited low in her belly in a way she hadn’t felt since she was…a teenager with her first kiss.

  How was he—She heard a huffed laugh.

  “You’ve got a busy brain, do you?” He pulled her against him even closer, his hand sliding into her jeans, massaging her bottom even as he pressed her against a rock-hard erection.

  Between the alcohol and his kisses, her busy brain simply melted out of her.

  “The bedroom down the hall?” he asked at one point.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  He moved her backward, step by step, kissing her the entire time, and suddenly she felt the bed mattress against the back of her legs.

  The bed.

  Holy lady of cats, could she do this? Still…her body was on fire, her breasts aching, her pussy wet and tingling.

  “Hands up, baby,” he said.

  She frowned at him, confused. Rather than unbuttoning her work shirt, he simply lifted her arms and pulled it over her head. Even in the dim light, she could see the hunger in his gaze as he looked at her bra-covered breasts—and then the bra wasn’t there any longer either.

  “Mmm, beautiful.” His hands touched her, gently at first, cupping her breasts, weighing one in a huge palm, teasing her nipples to hard, aching points.

  “But…” Head in the game, Mallory. “You’re still wearing your shirt.”

  His smile changed his features from dangerous to captivating. “Guess I’d best catch up.” Without any hesitation, he stripped off his T-shirt.

  Oh. Wow. Her mouth went dry. His chest and shoulders seemed even bigger without the shirt. Wonderfully broad. He had a scattering of brown chest hair over his pectorals, not nearly enough to cover the tautness of the skin over solid musculature. She laid her palm over his chest, and her heart skipped a beat. She’d never felt anything so hard. Her other hand closed on his left biceps. Just as hard. An ugly red scar showed under his left ribs.

  “It’s barely healed.” When she touched it, his jaw tightened. All right, he didn’t want to talk about his surgery.

  Moving on, she ran her hands down his chest and over his ridged abdomen, following what Serena referred to as the happy trail, until her fingers ran into the barrier of his jeans and leather belt.

  When she looked up at him, his lips tilted up as he said, “Your turn again, baby.” The smoothness of his voice had acquired a sexy edge.

  Her turn. She became mesmerized by the blunt angle of his jaw, somehow more forbidding with a dark five o’clock shadow.

  He snorted, and she felt his hands undo her belt and unzip her jeans. Without asking, he pushed—pushed—her onto her back on the bed. With quick tugs, her boots were gone, her jeans, and her briefs as well.

  Before her head had stopped spinning—the second drink really had been a mistake—he’d stripped as well. He was fully erect and long and… Could a cock be called muscular? Like his chest and arms, his shaft seemed thick with muscle. His pubic hair was trimmed neatly. He gave her no more time to look before he joined her on the bed, coming down on top of her. He smelled of clean pine and citrus.

  As he pressed her into the mattress, even his heavy weight seemed appallingly sexy.

  “Look at me, Mallory,” he said quietly.

  Her gaze met his, and he studied her face for a long moment. “You with me? This is the time to say yes or no, pet.”

  Why did he call her pet? He held her gaze, his eyes steady and…controlled. Both of them were naked and yet, she knew if she said stop, he’d simply roll off and get dressed.

  Right now, she understood why her friends indulged in quickie sex nights.

  She didn’t want to say no.

  “Yes,” she whispered. The humor of the situation caught up to her, and she laughed. “You rescued me. Ancient tradition demands I reward you.”

  He chuckled, the sound quiet and low. “Guess I’d best be about collecting my reward.” His mouth covered hers, and even as he took possession there, his hand covered her breast.

  Under his caress, her breast swelled, and when his thumb circled the nipple, her back arched for more.

  He made a pleased sound, and his touch grew slightly rougher as he switched to the other breast.

  A shiver ran through her—as well as surprise. She hadn’t expected how much she’d like feeling his hard hands on her body, how disconcertingly exciting the abrasive calluses would feel on her sensitive skin.

  Shifting to lie beside her, he propped up on his elbow and simply…looked at her.

  Embarrassment lit within, and a flush covered her body like a hot blanket.

  “You’re not as thin as I thought.” His hand stroked down her torso and over her hip. “Your loose shirt covered these pretty curves.”

  Like her wide hips. Oh, hiss, how humiliating. “Don’t,” she whispered.

  An eyebrow rose, and the firm look he gave her made the shivers start in her belly. “Mallory, I’m going to enjoy myself—including looking my fill. Touching my fill. Taking my fill. You can always tell me no, and I’ll stop and leave. Is that what don’t means?”

  She shook her head, not sure what she was feeling. Only…being naked and looked at was discomforting.

  He made a gutturally annoyed sound. “Women.” He hadn’t stopped touching her, and now, he played with her breasts, teasing the nipples back to throbbing peaks. “You have adorable breasts. I like looking at them.” He trailed his fingers to her belly, to her hips,
then squeezed her bottom. “And you have a gorgeous ass. Men like to look, girl.”

  His touch brushed down the tops of her thighs and returned. So close to…there. As she held her breath, he rolled up, pushed her legs apart, and knelt between them.

  She shut her eyes, wishing she’d closed the curtains. The full moon provided far too much light. Would he expect her to be…oh, as lovely as some romantic heroine? She wasn’t.

  But she didn’t regret being able to see him. The man was beautiful in a terrifyingly lethal way, like her cat, Aslan, when on the hunt. He was all coiled power harnessed by an intimidating self-control—and his aura shimmered with it.

  Sawyer didn’t think a woman had ever looked at him as Mallory did now—as if she could see past his skin and into his soul. And still liked what she saw.

  He studied her expressive face and wide eyes. Every thought showed clearly, and when she spoke, her beautiful soprano voice revealed every emotion.

  Most women he’d bedded watched him as if he were a challenge or a point in a game.

  Mallory’s eyes held a stunned pleasure. Delight.

  And he felt his muscles pump up as if he were a teenaged boy trying to impress a pretty girl.

  Dumbass.

  She wanted sex, nothing more, or she’d have cooked him a meal for thanks instead. He’d have been fine with a home-cooked meal.

  He’d be fine with sex, too.

  He liked her. Her courage, her wry sense of humor, her warmth, and the way her eyes met his honestly.

  And she had a sweetly curved body. Both muscular and tantalizingly soft. The extra couple of inches of height were nice. Her breasts weren’t big, but were a pleasing handful, and her waist curved out to spectacular hips. He looked forward to rolling her over and taking her from the rear.

  Meantime, he stroked over her plump mound and down to her pussy. Beautifully wet. Her face flushed to pink as he looked his fill. The neatly trimmed hair exposed dark, glistening labia.

  Jesus, it’d been a long time since he’d played. Ignoring the urgent ache in his cock, he teased her pussy with one finger, taking his time as he moved from her entrance to circle her clit. Back and forth. The folds swelled, and her clit engorged until the hood couldn’t conceal it any longer.

  Her hips wiggled. “This isn’t right. You shouldn’t be… I mean, you’re not getting any…stuff.”

  “Stuff,” he repeated, managing—barely—to smother a laugh. For someone who went after convicts, she was adorably unsophisticated.

  “Yes, stuff.” She tried to sit up, reaching for him.

  “Nope, I’m not done playing. I happen to enjoy this kind of…stuff.” With a hand between her pretty breasts, he flattened her again and came down on her in exactly the right position to suck on one nipple.

  Her gasp was entertaining, and the way her fingers convulsed in his hair was fucking painful. And satisfying. She was passionately responsive. Nothing was more tempting to a man like him.

  He took his time, sucking and licking around the tight nub. When he teased the peak against the roof of his mouth, her fingertips dug into his skin. Yeah, more here.

  With his free hand, he slid a finger into her cunt, thrusting slowly, as he used his teeth very lightly on one nipple tip.

  Her cunt clamped around on his finger like a vise.

  As she started to tremble, he stopped to kiss her, to gentle her back down as he would a skittish foal.

  Shifting under him, she closed her hand around his cock, pumping lightly.

  Fuck, her touch felt good. Too fucking good. He had to exert a fair amount of control to keep from just taking her.

  Interesting move on her part, though. If she’d been a subbie he was topping, he’d conclude she was embarrassed and wanted to get it over with. Although Mallory’s body was obviously loving his attention, her head might not be as far into the game.

  Yet…she’d been the one who wanted him here. He’d expect her to want to draw this out and get as much pleasure from him as possible, but she wasn’t acting that way.

  Didn’t matter. He liked playing with a woman’s body, and this one was more fun than most. If she thought to hurry the sex along, she was in for a big fail.

  “Uh-uh, baby.” He pulled her hand off his dick. Lifting her to a sitting position, he pulled her arms behind her, bending her elbows so her arms crossed at her lower back. And then he laid her back down.

  Her own weight would keep those busy hands buried beneath her.

  “Hey!” When she struggled to pull her hands out, he leaned on her, ignoring the painful tug of his wound.

  “Leave your hands there.” He met her eyes and put an edge of command into his voice. “Can you stay still for me, Mallory?”

  Damned if her expression didn’t melt into the sweetest surrender he’d ever seen. Her body relaxed under his. Submissive—and lovely.

  “Thank you, pet.” He gave her a slow kiss to reward her, before starting again. After all, he might have missed something. Her mouth was perfect. Soft, velvety lips. Pointed chin. Long neck. Surprisingly muscled shoulders and upper arms. Breasts—so fucking nice. Narrow waist. Full hips.

  Reaching her mound, he inhaled. Her lightly musky scent was compellingly feminine.

  When he pulled open her outer labia, she shook her head and started to pull her hands out.

  “Stay put, girl,” he growled.

  The way she froze was delightful. Her body wasn’t tense, and he could feel her growing even wetter. This one liked being dominated.

  Wasn’t it convenient he just happened to be a Dom?

  When he licked over her clit, the incredulous gasp she gave almost made him come like a boy.

  For the love of cats, she was going to die. He had her legs pushed widely apart, was holding her folds wide open, and was…licking her. Oh, she’d had guys do that before, usually like it was something they were required to do before getting to the good stuff.

  Not this man. He was enjoying himself. Every time she grew close to coming, he…backed off. Slowed down.

  The first time, she’d thought it was an accident.

  But he did it again. And again.

  He was propped up with an arm over her pelvis, which held her down at the same time. She couldn’t pull her arms out from under her back—not without fighting him—and the way he’d kept her from doing anything changed…everything.

  His aura said she could trust him—and she did. The position she was in, his strength and control, his confidence and sure hands, all robbed her of the will to resist.

  Ruthlessly, his warm, clever tongue teased her clit. Sometimes it was thin and hard and rubbing firmly along the sides, sometimes flat and soft right over the top. Circling, flicking, tapping. The nub grew tight and increasingly sensitive.

  He pressed a finger inside her and woke a whole new array of nerves. When her hips gave an involuntary wiggle, he laughed—and continued.

  One finger became two, gliding in and out in a slow, gentle rhythm, even as his tongue flicked hard and fast. Pressure grew in her core.

  And—wild fling or not, she wasn’t sure she wanted to climax. She didn’t know him. Sharing sex was one thing; sharing an orgasm…

  What had she been thinking? She stiffened. “List—”

  Her objection died as he took her clit between his lips and sucked. His tongue flickered over her. His fingers plunged in and out, faster. Harder.

  Everything inside her gathered as each touch of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers shoved her closer. Her hips tried to rise, and he pressed them down, sucked harder—and drove her right into a shocking climax.

  Wave after wave of pleasure exploded inside her, and she clenched around his penetrating fingers, gasping for air.

  His tongue continued until she grew too sensitive and moaned a protest.

  He stopped. Didn’t change positions. Even with her eyes shut, she could feel the intensity of his gaze. Watching her.

  She’d never been the subject of such concentrated f
ocus.

  Blinking, she looked back.

  He was still kneeling between her legs, and when he met her gaze, his lips curved. “I like watching you come, Mallory.” He stroked her hip, his hand warm and hard. “Now, let’s see how good your stamina is.”

  Still smiling slightly, he dragged his jeans closer, pulled a condom from his wallet, tore the wrapper open, and sheathed himself.

  Moving up her body, he gently pulled her arms out from behind her and lifted them over her head.

  She wanted to hold him, yet when she moved, he fixed her with a stern gaze. “Stay where I put you, pet.” He braced himself, his arm next to her wrists, and came down on top of her.

  As he guided himself to her pussy, she realized his erection was as hard and big as he was. Slowly, firmly, he penetrated her a few inches before halting to study her.

  Even though she didn’t try to resist, she was acutely aware of how she was being…taken. She closed her eyes.

  His soft growl was an objection. “Uh-uh. Give me your eyes.”

  She looked up.

  His blue gaze held hers as unyieldingly as his weight held her down and his command held her arms in place. After a second, he moved, gradually impaling her. As he stretched her, filled her, he kept her restrained, mentally and physically.

  Nothing had ever felt so intimate.

  As her insides throbbed around him, her body trembled. The shaking ran from deep in her core to the tips of her fingers.

  When he was deep inside her, he nuzzled her temple. “You did well, pet. Damn, you feel fucking good.”

  The knowledge she’d pleased him was a warm hum inside her, and she smiled.

  His eyes narrowed, and he made a thoughtful sound.

  She didn’t have a chance to think about what that meant before he pulled his cock back…and pressed in again even deeper. So big. She squirmed at the edge of discomfort.

  His gaze ran over her face, her arms, her shoulders, as he continued the slow retreat and advance.

  Then, as she adjusted to his size, the slick slide turned to pure pleasure. Everything inside her turned into a molten pool of lust. “Mmm.”