Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) (33 page)

“You’re close,” I
murmured, feeling her thrusts become more urgent, her thighs tense
and quiver. “I want to feel you come, Violet. Come all over my
fingers.”

She exploded, gripping
my shoulders, her fingernails biting into me as she screamed. She
pushed her clit down onto the thick pad of my thumb, and I pushed
right back, giving her all the pressure she needed, in exactly the
right spot. I thrust into her deep again, then again, slowing down,
letting the waves of pleasure ease but not abate, making her shudder
and whimper and coo as she came on my hand.

“So good,” I
murmured, wrapping a hand around her waist. She sank down on my
shoulder, sighing mightily with deep contentment. “You’re coming
back with me tonight,” I told her, deciding it for the both of us
on the spot. There was a time for consulting, discussing and mutually
agreeing upon next steps. And there was a time for simply stating the
obvious.

“Yes, I am,” Violet
agreed.

Violet

If I’d thought
mountain man Heath was sexy as hell, What. The. Fuck. Clean cut, no
beard, hair trimmed up, the man I met in New York was more gorgeous
than a movie star. And, believe me, I knew what I was talking about.
I’d met a bunch of them, and they never measured up in person. But
Heath? I could hardly take my eyes off him.

Don’t get me wrong, I
still loved my wild and wooly mountain man, but something about this
clean-shaven and spruced up Heath made my pulse pound. Maybe it was
how massive he still looked, and the way I knew the wild man still
lay there within. He hadn’t changed. He was still the same huge,
sexy beast I’d fallen for back in Vermont. Only now he was taking
me out on the town!

Wrapped in his arms in
the limo, I barely knew what was happening I was so filled with joy
and relief and disbelief in seeing him again. I’d spent much of the
past three weeks trying to move on, move past, certain that chapter
of my life was closed forever. I’d toyed with the idea of getting
in touch with him, apologizing for the angry words I’d hurled at
him when we’d last spoken. But even in my most hopeful moments, I
hadn’t expected a response. Heath was a strong man, inside and out.
He had an iron will and resolve. Though I hadn’t known him long, I
had a feeling he didn’t exactly flip-flop easily in his opinions.

But it turned out Sam
had done me a solid. He’d called up Heath and told him the truth.
Would wonders ever cease? I’d have to get in touch, thank him,
maybe try to find out what exactly had moved heaven and earth to
persuade him to do something so altruistic.

Sometime I’d do that.
I’d call Sam and talk to him. Just then, though, I was otherwise
occupied.

Heath rolled down the
partition between us and the limo driver and gave him instructions to
head to a hotel in SoHo. Just like the restaurant he’d taken me to
for dinner, it was high-end and celebrated enough that I’d heard of
it, but never once set foot inside. It was the type of place featured
in magazines and blogs, “Top 10 Hippest NYC Hotels.” I still
couldn’t exactly wrap my mind around that this was the same man, my
Heath, the Vermont woodworker.

“Did you just tell
the driver to head to The Grand?” I asked, nestled against his
broad chest. He held me there close. I bet if we didn’t have any
traffic or car noise I could hear his heartbeat. I wanted to get
alone with him like that, then listen to his heartbeat pick up under
my touch.

“Ash got us a room
there.”

“Ash Black, your
rockstar brother?”

“Yeah,” he agreed,
one arm caressing my hip, the other up in my hair.

“That’s so crazy.”
I still couldn’t adjust fully to this new reality. Everyone knew
the band The Blacklist, and the swaggering lead singer. It seemed
unbelievable, though when I thought about it, I could see some family
resemblance, the strong chin, the dark eyes and hair. “Do you talk
to him a lot, or—”

“Didn’t used to.”
Heath started kissing my throat, light kisses feathering along my
skin. I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up. It felt so good. “But
I’ve been staying with him these past few weeks.”

“How’s that been?”
I brought my fingers to his hair and worked them through. He’d
gotten a trim, combed it, but I wanted to mess it up all over again.

“Better than I
thought. He’s got a nice fiancé.”

“The librarian?” I
remembered all the headlines. How strange to go from headline news to
my guy’s family. If he was my guy. This all felt so good, so real
and exactly where I belonged, but we hadn’t exactly had the “so
now what” conversation. But who wanted to ruin a good party by
thinking about the next day’s clean up? It was time to enjoy.

“Yes,” Heath
confirmed, and then that was the last either of us spoke until the
driver pulled the car up in front of the hotel. He helped me
straighten out my skirt and pull my coat around my top. His kisses
left me completely undone.

In the lavish art deco
lobby, Heath checked us in while I texted my mom to let her know I’d
be spending the night in the city. She texted back right away telling
me to have fun. No “be careful” or “what time will you be back
tomorrow?” I guess Heath had made a good impression. My heart had
nearly stopped yesterday when I’d walked in and seen him sitting
and having a beer with my mom. What struck me the most was how easy
and natural he looked sitting in my mom’s kitchen. And to think I’d
wondered if he’d look down on my background, my family.

As we rode up the
elevator, which somehow looked both retro-glam 1920s and completely
updated, Heath wrapped my hand in his. A couple stood next to us, so
hand holding would have to do. For the time being.

“Penthouse?” I
asked, seeing the button he pressed.

“Ash,” he replied,
shaking his head.

“Wait, how did he…?”
I trailed off, answering my own question by remembering that
celebrities opened doors the rest of us didn’t even know existed,
let alone knowing anything about the key to the lock. All Ash Black
had probably had to do to get a last-minute penthouse suite at one of
the hottest hotels in the city was have one of his people make a
call.

The view from the room
was breathtaking, the nighttime cityscape laid out before us. But
neither of us noticed at all. Heath had me up in his arms, carrying
me across to the bedroom, kissing me like he’d been dreaming of
doing it all the past weeks apart. I was just as hungry for him, too,
and impatient for more.

We tore at each other’s
clothes, kissing the skin we bared on each other, a tangle of limbs
and love. He’d looked great in that button-down shirt, but working
on button after button to get it off of him, now that wasn’t great.
With a grin, he took over for me and pulled it up and over his head,
the T-shirt underneath it, too. There, that was better.

He was such a
magnificent wall of muscle. My fingers traced his skin, mesmerized by
every ridge and plane, the bulging arc of his shoulders, the cut of
his pecs, the ripple of his abs. He drank me in as well, his hands
roaming my body, loving my curves, my soft dips and swells such a
contrast against him so hard and solid. His fingers found their way
to my inner thighs, stroking my sensitive skin. I parted for him,
showing him how much I wanted him, how instantly I warmed to his
touch.

When his fingers found
my pussy, he groaned like a person dying of thirst at an oasis. I
did, too, as he slid his thick, calloused tips across my wetness.
He’d already made me come in the car, and honestly just being
around him revved my motor, made me want to do all sorts of nasty
things with him all night long. Circling my clit in long, leisurely
strokes, he began working me up again, sliding and pressing, drinking
in the moans off my lips with kisses.

“Heath,” I groaned,
tilting my hips toward his talented fingers. “Heath, it’s so
good. But I need you to fuck me!”

With a growl like a
beast, he pushed me down onto the bed. He quickly removed the rest of
his clothes and climbed over me. Wrapping his large hands around the
backs of my thighs, he pushed them up along either side of my torso.
Holding me like that, spread, he exposed me completely. He brought
the wide, thick crown of his cock to my entrance and positioned it
right where I needed it.

Panting, I tried to
buck my pussy onto him, but his hands held me tight, firm in his
grasp.

“You want to get
fucked, Violet?” he asked, a wild look in his eyes.

“Yes!” I screamed
out, and then he entered me in one long, hard thrust. Wet and slick
as I was, he was still so huge. The way his cock stretched me made my
eyes open wide and I screamed again, my arms up clasping his bulging
biceps. Still, he held me open as he started to move, fucking me just
like I wanted, with long, strong thrusts deep inside of me.

“Heath!” I
screamed, overwhelmed by him, his size, the intensity of the way he
took me, and an orgasm ripped up through me, rushing through my
senses. He kept pounding, picking up his pace, a man possessed.

“Over my shoulders,”
he commanded, guiding my legs up and over him as he cupped his hands
down underneath my ass. He guided me as he pistoned into me, over and
over, and I had to brace myself against the headboard with my hand.

“Yes!” I cried out,
wanting all of it, even if it made me sore, even if I got a few
bruises. I wanted all of him, every inch, wild and untamed, fucking
me like only he could.

“So good,” he bit
out, his gaze fixed on the exact spot where his cock hammered into
me, glistening and hard as a rock, again and again. I used the
headboard to push against him, desperate, guttural sounds in my
throat, grunts and whimpers and cries of need.

I could feel him get
close, his ass clenching and his thighs growing taut. Yet he slowed
down, savoring every inch as he thrust into me and looked into my
eyes. “I’m going to come in you deep, Violet.”

Quivering in my core,
my whole body responded to his words, every bit of me crying out yes.
I closed my eyes and just felt, surrendering to the intense
sensations as he gripped my ass and rocked into me again, then again.
With a great shudder and roar he exploded, his cock so big and hard
and deep in me, pumping his hot come as I came all over again,
throbbing and sighing, my legs up and over his shoulders. He thrust
in so deep, his hands keeping me there locked against him, until he
groaned out in release.

“Violet,” he
exclaimed, unwinding my legs and collapsing down next to me, pulling
me against his chest.

We stayed like that for
a while, resting together, our heartbeats slowing down, our fingers
playing lazy circles on each other’s skin. Eventually, he pulled me
into the bathroom where we found a giant, walk-in shower.

“Might need to put
one of these in my cabin.” He smiled at me as he turned on hot
water from all points, two showerheads and two jets in from the side.
We soaped each other up, lathering and rubbing and massaging. The way
he touched me, caressing every inch, worshipping my skin, he made me
feel like a work of art. I guessed that was one of the benefits of
being with an artist.

“I’d love to sculpt
you,” he murmured, as if reading my mind. “But I’d never be
able to make anything near as beautiful.” He turned me to face the
wall and lathered my back, slow, lazy circles traveling lower and
lower until he lovingly caressed my buttocks. The heat he built in me
never went out, but it did shift, sometimes raging like a wildfire
tearing through a forest in August, sometimes like the slow-moving
flow of molten lava.

In the steam of the
shower, he made me feel so languorous, so delicious and unhurried. We
had all the time in the world. Why not savor it?

I turned around, a
mischievous smile playing at my lips. His shaft stood up, huge and
hard once again. I wrapped my hands around it, playing along its
length in the wet heat of the shower.

“It’s been a while
since we had dessert.” I licked my lips, admiring his length, the
veins bulging down the sides, the thick mushroom of his crown. As I
eased down to my knees, he let out a groan in anticipation.

“You know you don’t
have to—” He paused, at a loss for words as I licked wet and
slick around his tip. “Don’t have to take me all the way in. I
know I’m big.”

“Oh, but Heath.” I
smiled up at him, cupping my hands along his cock, positioning it
right where I could give it another long, slow lick. I looked up into
his eyes. “I want to suck all of you.”

He groaned again like a
man tortured and in pain. I’d see what I could do about that. I
slipped his tip in, marveling again at his size. I really did have to
work hard to take him all the way down my throat, but I’d done it
before and I wanted to again. Amazing what a motivated woman could
accomplish.

I relaxed as I sucked,
closing my eyes and losing myself to it, the warm water pounding on
my back, the steam curling around us. He brought his hands to my
hair, my shoulders, caressing me, letting me know how good it felt as
I sucked and licked, working his big cock deeper and deeper in my
mouth and throat.

It was such a heady
sense of power, such a rush of adrenaline to feel him grow even
harder under my attentions. I could hear his breathing grow more
ragged, feel his fingers grip me tighter. I loved turning this man
on.

“Mmm,” I murmured
around his cock as I sucked, cupping his balls with one hand, the
other around to grab his ass. It was wet, messy work, perfect for the
shower, as I slurped and sucked, feeling my pussy throb as I got him
closer and closer. He was such a huge, sexy beast of a man and it
felt so right to be his woman.

Suddenly, he withdrew
and pulled me up to standing, then pushed me against the smooth tile
of the shower wall.