Home > The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (Bluebonnet #2)(26)

The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male (Bluebonnet #2)(26)
Author: Jessica Clare

“And tell me that you’re mine.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight, and she felt him press his erection against her.

“I’m yours,” she said softly. The fight had brought out his protective streak. “All yours.”

He tugged at the straps of her dress, pulling them from her hands to let them fall back around her waist once more, exposing her br**sts. His fingers moved to the nipple, pinched it. He watched her face.

Her breath inhaled sharply. “Do you—should we…”

“Turn around, darlin’,” he said softly.

A dangerous, erotic thrill shot through her. She moved slowly, turning until her back was to him. He moved forward, his hand skimming along her back, and she arched against those wonderful, callused fingers. She loved his touch.

“Bend over the desk,” he rasped, and his hand went to her neck. He didn’t exert pressure—it was just there to remind her of what he wanted. And she bent over the desk, gasping when the cold wood surface hit her fevered n**ples. Her belly clenched as it hit the wood, and she shuddered in anticipation.

“Do you want me, Beth Ann?” Colt’s voice was low, possessive. “Right here? Right now? Say no, and I can just walk away right now.”

Say no, and I can just walk away right now. For some reason, she suspected that had a lot more meaning than to just right now. As in, forever. But she was in this too deep—and currently too turned on—to even think about leaving. “I’m staying.”

“Because no one would expect you to f**k me after we’d been found out?”

“Because I want you,” she said softly. “Only you.”

His hands pushed up her cherry skirt—no panties. She spread her legs, steadying herself. Her hands clamped onto the front of the desk and she waited, her body rigid with anticipation. The crinkle of the condom wrapper alerted her, but she still wasn’t prepared for the feel of him when he surged into her. She sucked in a breath. She’d been wet, but not as soaked as she normally was when he finally thrust into her. There was a bit of sting, and tightness to her, and she wiggled, trying to adjust.

His hands gripped her h*ps and he rocked deep, groaning with need. “Beth Ann.”

“I’m here,” she said softly.

He thrust again, and this time it didn’t hurt. Pleasure began to strum through her—his c*ck was so thick that it rubbed against all of her when he stroked in, and rubbed even more when he moved out. It was an exquisite sensation—she felt filled with lust when he stroked between her legs. It was like her entire core was one big g-spot. Amazing, that. He began to thrust hard, fast, his hand stealing to her shoulder to anchor her down. This was not a soft, tender exploration of bodies. This was hard, possessive sex. He was claiming her as his, branding her, making his mark on her.

And she loved it.

Soft little cries began to break from her with every hard, punishing thrust. The desk slammed back and forth with every motion as he rocked into her. His balls slapped against her with every thrust, and his thighs smacked against her own every time. This was the hardest they’d ever f**ked, and instead of scaring her, she reveled in it. She wanted him to thrust deeper, harder. Lose all control. Her fingers dug against the side of the desk. She reached up, pulled his face down to her own, and whispered, “Fuck me harder, Colt.”

He groaned, an animal noise, and his body slammed into her. Once, twice, and then he bit out her name, and his entire body clenched. She felt him spasm deep inside her, and she panted, motionless. He’d come before her. That hadn’t happened before, but she understood it. He’d needed her—needed this so bad. He rocked into her one more time, as if reluctant to leave her body, and then exhaled sharply. “Turn over.”

She sat up, turned around, flushed, and leaned in to kiss him.

He stopped her. “Back on the desk.”

“But—”

He grabbed her by the h*ps and hauled her back up. “On your elbows.”

She did, though she was in danger of falling off the desk. Again, he pushed up her skirts, and to her shock, he buried his face in her p**sy. “Colt,” she gasped. “But—”

“Want to hear you come, darlin’,” he murmured against her flesh, and the vibrations of his low, husky voice sent shockwaves skittering through her. She moaned, and when his tongue began to lap at her, her h*ps quivered in response.

A finger sank deep inside her—not nearly as exciting as his cock—and was joined by two others. He f**ked her with his fingers, even as he bent to her cl*t and began to lick it with slow, measured strokes.

“Oh mercy,” she moaned, forgetting all about being quiet. “Oh, Colt, yes, please…”

“You taste sweet, Beth Ann,” he said, and she moaned anew, wishing her skirts weren’t blocking her view. His fingers continued to thrust into her, even as his tongue worked her cl*t over. Her h*ps began to undulate with need, and her cries ripped through the air as she came with a wet rush, the orgasm ripping through her with intensity.

When she’d come down again, he took her by the hand and pulled her off the desk, and gave her a kiss that tasted like her sex. “Turn around.”

She did as she was told, still panting.

“Lift your hair.” When she did, he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and she smiled. “Come to my place tonight,” he said softly, tying the straps of her dress behind her neck for her again.

He hadn’t invited her back since that first night after they’d gotten out of the woods. She felt a little flutter in her chest. “You sure?”

When she turned, he nodded, and kissed her again, and she touched the cut on the corner of his mouth with concern. “Doesn’t hurt,” he said. “Will you stay?”

“Is this because you want me with you, or because you’re afraid Allan’s going to come by and harass me again?”

“Both,” he said. “Plus, I like the way you wake a man up. Ruined me for coffee, remember?”

She laughed. “Let’s stop by my place and get my things first.”

They swung by her salon while she packed a quick overnight bag, and then headed out to the ranch in his car. Once in his cabin, they’d made love again—this time tender, sweet love—before going to sleep in each other’s arms, nak*d.

ELEVEN

The front door banged open, startling Beth Ann awake.

“Sorry to barge in, Colt,” Miranda sang out, and Beth Ann heard a cord dragging. “But you’re the closest cabin and the closest outlet, and I need to curl my hair before we meet Dane’s parents today, and I—”

Beth Ann sat up, pushing aside a nest of blond hair that had fallen into her face.

Colt sat up, too, and his voice was amused. “Mornin’, Miranda.”

Beth Ann’s best friend stared at the two of them in bed together in horror. Her jaw went slack with surprise, and then she dropped the curling iron in her hand. “Oh.” She scooped it up and then tilted her head, staring at them. “I came over to borrow an outlet. I, uh, didn’t realize Colt had company.”

“Hey, honey,” Beth Ann said softly, her cheeks flushing. “How are you?”

“Holy shit!” Miranda exclaimed, the sight of her friend finally sinking in. “Beth Ann! What the hell? You never said a word to me!”

Beth Ann bit her lip and looked over at Colt.

“Miranda,” he said, “can I get you to turn around so I can get some pants?”

“Oh my God. You’re both nak*d,” Miranda squeaked. “Oh God, I’m scarred for life. I’ll go to the big lodge—”

“It’s okay,” Colt said. “Just give me two minutes for pants, and then you and Beth Ann can talk—”

Before he could finish, Miranda was back out the door. Colt chuckled and glanced over at Beth Ann. “Didn’t realize she was that skittish.”

“She’s probably in shock,” Beth Ann admitted, hugging Colt’s blankets to her.

“Not half as shocked as she’d be if we told her what we were doing last night.”

Beth Ann flushed.

He grinned, pulled her toward him and kissed her temple, then crawled out of bed over her. She admired his ass as he dressed, pulling on briefs, and then a pair of jeans. He turned as he tugged a shirt over his head, and his hair—that sexy high and tight haircut—was sticking up in tufts from sleep. “You want coffee, darlin’?”

“Coffee sounds good,” she admitted.

He grinned and tossed a shirt at her. “I’ll get some from the lodge and will be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“You’re my ride,” she pointed out. Plus, she was pretty sure she’d forgotten to pack panties in their haste last night. She tugged on Colt’s T-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants, and opened the door to the cabin to let Miranda in. “It’s safe now, honey. No more nak*d people.”

Miranda climbed up the steps and reentered with her curling iron. She plugged it into the wall, and then whirled to look at Beth Ann. “Well, I suppose this is a blessing,” she said lightly. “You can fix my hair so I don’t look like an idiot when I meet Dane’s parents for lunch.”

“Are they in town?” Beth Ann asked politely.

“They are,” Miranda said stiffly. “We’re having lunch with them to talk about the wedding and—oh hell, Beth Ann. You’re sleeping with Colt?” Her friend’s voice was scandalized. “You two hate each other. Like cats and dogs hate. Cats and water hate. Brenna and Grant hate.” Her eyes widened. “Is this a hate-sex relationship? Is that what you need after Allan? Someone to make you feel like—”

“Nothing like that,” Beth Ann said hastily. She moved to the curling iron and picked it up, then gestured for Miranda to sit in the sole chair in the cabin. “You bring clips?”

Miranda handed her one as Beth Ann separated a lock of her hair with her fingers. “Don’t change the subject. How did you and Colt get together?”

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“And that’s why you should tell your best friend,” Miranda pointed out. “I should be terribly hurt that you never said a peep to me, but frankly—wow. Now I don’t have to plan my wedding around whether or not you two can be civilized to each other. I can just plan it around whether or not you two need separate rooms or not.”

Beth Ann blushed and wrapped the curling iron around a long, dark lock of Miranda’s thick hair. “Don’t read too much into it yet, honey. We’re still casual.”

Miranda twisted in her seat, jerking at the curling iron. “Oh my God. You guys are just f**k buddies?”

Lord. “We’re dating. I just don’t know if it’ll last. I’m trying not to read too much into it just yet.”

“Because Allan’s going to try and chase him off?”

The thought had crossed Beth Ann’s mind.

Miranda turned again. “Have you thought about Allan? What’s he going to say?”

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