Sarah's Seduction (6 page)

Brock’s hands clenched on the steering wheel as the blood pumping furiously between his thighs made his patience exceeds its fragile limits. Why wouldn’t he do as she asked? Because he had waited so long to fuck her that it felt like a lifetime.

“You want to know why I’m not listening to you?” he bit out from between clenched teeth as he swung the jeep to the side of the road. He pulled in behind an outcropping of boulders with a swerve of the wheel that had her gasping in surprise. The jeep rocked to a stop as Brock covered the distance between them, shoving her seat back, dropping the back to rest against the back seat, and ignoring her gasp of alarm as he kneed her thighs apart and rose over her. She stared up at him in shock as he jerked her dress to her waist. His hand covered her mound, his fingers sinking into hot, wet flesh as the other hand hurriedly released the straining erection from inside his jeans.

“This is why, damn you.” He took her hand, wrapping it around the silk encased steel of his cock as he groaned roughly. “This, Sarah. Hot and wild. Me buried inside you while you scream out in pleasure. I told you, I wouldn’t let you go again.”

His fingers plunged deep into her melting vagina, invoking a shattered cry of ecstasy as he filled her. She moaned, a whimpering little sound as his thumb raked her straining clit, making her shudder in his arms as her fingers caressed him. His cock tightened at her small, stroking motions. So untutored, so hesitant, shy as she stared up at him in dazed fascination. It drove him crazy. He wanted to replace that inexperience with knowledge. He wanted to be the one to teach her, the one to replace the hesitancy Lora Leigh

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with confidence and awareness. He wanted to steal her innocence, what little her exhusband had left her, and it disgusted him at the same time that it made him wild with lust.

She whimpered, a small sound of longing and confusion.

“I’ll take care of you, Sarah,” he swore to her, his fingers moving sensually inside her body as he leaned down to touch her lips. “Trust me. Let me take you to my home. I’ve waited so long for you, love.”

She jerked at his declaration, her thighs clenching on his hands as she fought to draw away from the seductive spell he was weaving around her.

“No.” His lips covered her, his fingers moving deeper, making her hotter, wetter. He needed to fuck her. To stake his claim on her here and now. To throw her into such pleasure that her climax drained her, left her unable to deny him. Unable to leave him. God help him if he lost her again. He couldn’t risk it, not yet. Not while the fire was burning him alive, making him insane, making his body hurt with the need to touch her, claim her, hear her screams of release echoing around him.

“Feel how good it is, Sarah,” he growled against her lips. “Tell me you want to go to that lonely motel room, rather than my warm bed. Tell me, and I’ll do it, Sarah. Do you want to be empty and alone, or filled and screaming as you come around my cock?”

* * * * *

Sarah stared up at Brock, feeling his fingers hard and thick inside her body, his erection hot and hard in her hand. She couldn’t even circle the broad length with her fingers. How full would he fill her? How hard could he make her scream in climax? The August men were rumored to be experienced, well-tutored lovers who could ride a woman well into the night. Mark had barely managed ten short minutes. She wanted him, but she was terrified of the strength of that wanting.

“Answer me, Sarah.” His fingers thrust lightly into her, her vagina spilling its liquid into his hand as he groaned above her.

“Yes,” she whispered, staring up at him, snared by his eyes, the intense sexual need in his expression. “I want to be filled and screaming. Please, Brock.”

Strangled and tortured, a groan ripped from his throat. His fingers pulled free of her body, but he replaced them with the broad head of his erection. Sarah stilled, her breath nearly suspended in her chest as she felt the burning tip move against her.

“I swore not yet,” he growled fiercely. “I was going to wait, Sarah. I swear I was.”

Sarah felt fire, lightning arching over her skin, between her thighs as the hard flesh began to invade her. Stretched, invaded, she gasped, her hips arching, the incredible sensations spreading through her as Brock slid deeper and deeper inside her body. Lora Leigh

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“Sarah.” Her name was a harsh groan that sounded torn from his lips. “Damn. You’re so tight. So tight, Sarah.”

His hand tore at the buttons of her dress, several ripping from their mooring as the edges spread. Then his lips were covering one hard-tipped mound, his mouth suckling her heatedly as he pushed the last few inches into her body. She wouldn’t survive it, Sarah thought. There was no way she would survive the lash of heat and need now searing her body.

That Brock August could do this to a woman didn’t surprise her. The fact that he had her beneath him, moaning in pleasure, astounded her though. Her, quiet, mousy Sarah, was making Brock August pant and whisper roughly as he pushed inside her. She tightened her muscles around him, crying out herself at the lash of pain/pleasure the action invoked.

“Oh hell. Sarah. Don’t do that.” His lips were at her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin as he fought for control. “Don’t do that, baby, I won’t be able to hold on.”

Had he ever lost control sexually? She knew women who bemoaned over the fact that they could never make one of the August brothers lose control. She tightened around him further, her hips shifting as heat scalded her vagina, making her writhe in need beneath him.

His hips retracted then plunged harshly, and Sarah heard herself cry out as her flesh throbbed and pulsed around him. Sensation after sensation tore through her, making her arch closer to him, tighten further around him.

“Stay still, Sarah,” he begged her roughly, grinding his hips against her in short, involuntary jerks.

She couldn’t help it. The feeling was too intense, the need riding her like a demon intent on satisfaction.

“Make me scream,” she whispered, staring into his face as he rose above her. She was amazed at the husky sexuality in her voice. “Please, Brock. I’ve never screamed.”

His eyes widened. For a second, long and intense, he watched her in surprise.

“Never?” He growled the question as his body seemed to tense, bunch for action. His arm wrapped around her hips as he moved her back along the seat. The motion tore a cry from her. It made the flesh filling her shift, move, stroke and caress. She was desperate for more.

“Never,” she cried out roughly. “I want to scream. Just once, Brock.”

“Just once?” He levered over her, pulling back slowly. “No love, you’ll scream more than just once.”

A low, keening cry filled the interior of the jeep as he plunged hard inside her. Sarah felt her vagina stretch with a bit of protest, but that small edge of pain made her want more. Always more. And he didn’t stop with just one. One hand gripped her hip, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and his hips began a strong, rhythmic thrusting that had her arching and crying out. The tension in her grew, the fire and heat filling Lora Leigh

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her, stretching her on a rack of pleasure so torturous she began to fear insanity. She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t. It was building harshly, always building, never releasing, never ending.

“Brock?” Fear was filling her now. It wouldn’t stop. The tension in her body was winding tighter and tighter, with no ease, no release. She strained against him, her head tossing, her hips fighting against his grip as they jerked in time to his hard thrusts. She could feel the invader, thick steel driving between her thighs over and over, making her body fill and gush with moisture but the tormenting grip of erotic fury never eased inside her.

“Soon, Sarah,” he gasped at her ear, his lips caressing the lobe as she fought against the steady pace. “Just let it go, baby. Don’t worry. Don’t fight it.”

“It’s killing me.” Her cry echoed around them, rising in intensity as the fire built in her body.

She couldn’t stand it. She wouldn’t survive it. She would die. It would kill her.

“Then it will kill us both.” He arched into her, his cock pummeling into her like a flesh and blood jackhammer intent on driving her past the edge of frenzy. The fierce impalement, the frenzy of lust and need made her gasp, cry out. The tension was winding tighter, fear threading through the haze of passion, making the sensations stronger, deeper. She wouldn’t survive it. She couldn’t survive it. Brock jerked her legs back, holding them now as he rose above her, his face a mask of furious intent as he slammed his cock repeatedly inside her. The sounds of wet flesh, gasping need, and Sarah’s pleas filled the interior of the jeep. She writhed beneath him, her cries rising in crescendo now as the building inferno began to engulf her. Fear edged her cries, her consciousness, but she couldn’t halt his thrusts, couldn’t halt her body’s reaction.

“Now, Sarah,” he cried out harshly, leaning over her, applying a pressure against her clit that sent her careening into insanity.

His pelvis stroked the ultra sensitive bud with one last hard thrust and Sarah felt herself dying. Exploding, lost in an inferno of sensation that threatened to destroy her. She heard someone screaming as she felt her flesh tighten around the pistoning cock painfully. Screaming, pleading as her body tightened to breaking point, arching so tight she feared she would break as wave after wave of shocking release tore through her body. It ripped through her vagina, burned past her stomach, and shredded her sanity as it wound over her, through her, seeming never-ending until finally, with one last brutal jerk of her body, she collapsed back to the seat, feeling the warm jet of Brock’s semen against the soft flesh of her lower stomach.

“The pill,” he gasped as he fell over her, breathing hard, sweat dripping from his face and hair as he fought to catch his breath. “Tomorrow, Sarah. Tomorrow you go on the pill. I want to come inside you, love.”

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Sarah shuddered at the thought of it. Feeling him pulse inside her would kill her. And why would the pill matter? It took at least a week to be effective. Did he intend more than the few nights the other women in his life had received?

She shivered against him. Her eyes were closed, weariness stealing over her now. Her body was relaxed, the torturous needs of moments ago sated.

“Sleep, love,” she heard Brock whisper gently as he moved away from her. She felt him cleaning her stomach, running a soft cloth between her thighs to dry the cooling dampness there. Then her dress was lowered as he moved back to his own seat. The jeep started once again, the soft hum of the motor lulling Sarah further into sleep.

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CHAPTER FIVE

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Sam asked Brock curiously, drawing him out of the thick sleep he had fallen into after bringing Sarah to his bed. Brock blinked drowsily up at his twin, seeing amusement edged with concern in his eyes. He glanced back at Sarah, making certain she still slept deeply before he untangled himself from her and slid quietly from the bed. She whispered his name, but didn’t awaken. Making sure the blankets were tucked around her, he pulled a pair of sweats on and motioned Sam from the room.

His brother followed, but Brock was aware of the curious looks Sam had cast back at the bed before the door closed firmly on the view. Brock knew that Sam was more than aware of his desire for Sarah over the past years. Hell, they were twins, he couldn’t help but know. But he wasn’t ready to share her yet. Despite the heat that seared him at the thought of it, an edge of worry pulsed in the region that had once been his heart. He couldn’t lose Sarah, and he was very much afraid that was the reason she had run the first time.

“I need coffee.” Brock headed downstairs and the pot of coffee he prayed Cade had left before going out that morning.

“Cade’s pissed,” Sam said as he followed close behind him. “You were supposed to be in the barn at daybreak this morning. Remember?”

Brock grunted in irritation. He’d forgotten. Cade wanted him to help check some fences and move the cattle in the front pastures. He strode quickly into the kitchen and went straight for the coffee. Marly was still sitting at the breakfast table, her head rose as Brock went past her.

“Hey, sleepy head,” she greeted him with a smile. “Cade was gonna pull you out of bed this morning, until he saw your friend.”

Brock froze as he set the pot back on its warming plate.

“He came to the room?” he asked her carefully.

“Yeah, he did.” Her voice was amused but he could hear the echo of strain beneath it. “Then he told me to let you sleep and he would talk to you later.”

He picked up his cup, glancing at Sam’s carefully controlled expression. For some reason, Cade hadn’t wanted Marly to know just how angry he was. There was more to this than the work Brock had missed.

Picking up his coffee cup, he snagged several large biscuits and sausage and went to the table, followed closely by Sam.

“So who is she?” Marly asked curiously, watching him. “Anyone I know?”

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Despite her amused expression, her blue eyes were dark with concern.

“Sarah Tate,” Brock answered her, knowing his voice was edgy. He caught the look between Sam and Marly. Sam’s expression was mockingly amused and knowing. Marly’s surprised.

“She’s married.” Marly frowned. “No wonder Cade was upset.”

“She’s divorced. The papers were signed yesterday,” he told her tightly. “And since when did Cade think he could tell me who to fuck?”

Marly looked at him in surprise. Brock breathed out a rough sigh. He was on edge. He wanted to go back to the bedroom and waken Sarah. He wanted to hear her screaming out his name again. Begging him.

“You brought her home, Brock. You’ve never done that,” she reminded him softly.

“Cade’s just concerned.”

Was Cade concerned, or was Marly? The complications of this burst into the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t thought, he had just reacted. And Cade had come to his room. He knew what Sarah meant to Brock, knew what having her there would come to mean. Just as Brock did, just as Marly should know. The edge of pain that she fought to keep hidden sliced his heart like a dull knife.