Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) (6 page)

Right. Her boyfriend.
Why the hell he’d let his girlfriend drive up by herself in a MINI
convertible in the middle of a storm on a Saturday night beat the
hell out of me. But it made sense that she had a boyfriend. She had
to have men beating down her door every goddamned night. Sooner or
later she’d let one of them in. I felt a strong urge to punch this
boyfriend right in the face, but what I should be feeling was
freedom. I was off the hook. I wasn’t going to cheat with her on
him. Sneaking around, violating people’s trust? I’d seen enough
of that shit to last a lifetime. No thank you, not interested.

“Sam and I work
together,” she added.

“Is he your
boyfriend?”

“Oh God, no!” She
burst out laughing. “Sam’s gay as a pancake!”

Never heard that
expression before. But I figured I knew what it meant. Still, I had
to ask, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No. I mean, not
really. There’s a guy, but…”

My hands tightened on
the wheel again. There was another man who got to touch her, hold
her, do all of the things to her I could picture so clearly? That
wasn’t right.

“But he’s… I
don’t know. It’s not, we’re not exclusive. It’s casual, you
know?”

No, I didn’t know.
Casual was not in my vocabulary. And it never would be with this
woman. Who the hell was this asshole?

“Why are you with him
if he’s not treating you right?”

“He’s treating me
right.” She sounded so defensive. Sitting up straighter in her
seat, she turned to face me, her breasts completely bare underneath
that gigantic parka. “You make it sound like it’s some kind of
abusive relationship. He’s a lot of fun. And he’s a model.”

I snorted. Now there
was someone I really did want to punch in the face. “Did he call to
make sure you got in safe tonight?” I asked, already betting I knew
the answer.

“No, but—”

“Then he’s not
treating you right.”

“I… It’s not…”
She huffed and puffed but couldn’t come up with exactly the right
answer. I knew why she couldn’t. Because the world was full of
idiots and it seemed like she was dating one of them. Or not dating,
having fun, some kind of bullshit like that. Either way, it made no
sense to me. She said it wasn’t exclusive. Was the man a complete
moron?

I’d taken drastic
measures to get away from that type, the players, the superficial
spotlight seekers all out for themselves no matter the consequences.
I’d left all of that behind. It had taken a hell of a lot to break
away, create a whole new life on my own terms. I’d devoted the past
four years to it, burying myself in this tiny Vermont town. Now I had
things just the way I liked them. My simple life.

Gary’s place was just
up the road. Almost time to pull up, park, and let this woman out of
my life for good. There were so many reasons to stay away from her.

Too bad I could picture
the opposite so vividly, how if I took her back to my place we’d
barely make it to the door of my cabin we’d be so busy tearing into
each other. We wouldn’t even get to the bedroom. I’d take her
right there on the floor, fucking her hard while she came, screaming
like she’d lost her mind.

I pulled over. I could
have parked closer. Gary had a driveway, but I stopped my truck down
a ways from it. I told myself it wasn’t because I was about to
reach over and pull her against me, kissing her like I couldn’t get
enough.

But then I reached
over, pulled her against me and started kissing her like I couldn’t
get enough. She met me right at it, like we’d never stopped, like
we hadn’t just been saying it wouldn’t happen again.

“We can’t do this,”
she panted, kissing my throat and sliding her hands under my coat to
grab hold of my shoulders.

“No, we can’t,” I
agreed, grabbing hold of her hips and bringing her right back where
she’d been before in front of the bar, right where she fit like a
fucking puzzle piece, so good right against me. With a deep moan, she
pushed her pussy against me, needing the contact, wanting more.

I licked her neck,
sucking her sensitive skin. Just one more sip of her nectar before I
swore off. My mouth found hers again and I drank her in, our tongues
meeting, teasing, stoking the fires higher as she moved against me.
Hands on her hips, I rocked her against my erection and she moaned,
her eyes rolling back. She gripped my shoulders like she was on her
favorite ride, holding on, wanting to make sure she stayed on no
matter how wild it got. She shifted her position, spreading her legs
wide, pushing her pussy against the bulge in my jeans.

“You feel how hard
you get me?” I moved against her, my solid shaft hitting her in a
spot so good she moaned. Grabbing her hips, I brought her there again
and she panted. “That feel good?” I asked in a low voice.

“Oh yes.” Her voice
came out jagged and breathy. She needed to come, I could tell she
did. She needed it badly. My fingers were so close. Moving slowly, my
eyes fixed on her gorgeous face, I brought my thumb down to the seam
of her jeans. Fuck, I could feel her wet heat. I pressed against her
and she gasped, her perfect plump lips opening with pleasure.

Knowing right where to
get her, I pressed again, stroked, pressed. The sight of her moaning,
flushed, and pushing into my thumb nearly did me in. I had to feel
her, and not just through her jeans. I needed to feel her slick
sweetness, coat my fingers in her arousal.

“You feel so good,”
I told her, giving her another stroke. With my other hand I unzipped
that parka, giving me a glimpse of those perfect breasts again. I
wanted to keep watching her, though. Her intense response was like a
drug. So I didn’t move my mouth back to her chest. I cupped one of
her breasts in my hand, squeezing it as I slowly worked a good rhythm
down through her jeans. She whimpered, grabbing onto me, fisting my
shirt in her hands, her eyes closed, her teeth biting down on her
lip.

“I want to make you
come, Violet,” I said, stroking her wet heat. She moaned in
response, pulling at my shirt. “Would you like that?” I asked.

“Yes,” she moaned.
“Yes.”

Swiftly, I unbuttoned
her jeans. They were tight and she wiggled away from me to pull them
down and off. So eager, I loved how quickly she worked. She
desperately needed my fingers on her, almost as much as I needed to
touch her myself. Almost. I couldn’t imagine she felt as much need
as I did. Nearly blinded by it, I pulled her back and settled her on
my lap, her creamy, bare thighs now spread wide over me.

I pushed the parka off
of her, feasting on her throat, her lips, her breasts. She wore
pretty little lacy panties. I vaguely registered that they were the
same color as her bra, the cream colored one I’d thrown to the
passenger side. It was dark in the cab of the truck, but there was
enough illumination from a streetlight out on the road that I could
see how sweet she looked. And the damp patch where she’d soaked
through her panties.

Holding on to her hips,
I tilted her so I could see better. I brought my finger down, right
where she’d gotten the silk all wet and slick. She gasped and
pushed against my finger.

“Are you wet for me?”
I asked her, wanting to hear her say it. I needed to hear those words
from her panting mouth.

“Oh,” she sighed,
working her pussy against my finger, now just separated by a thin
layer of silk. The sensation had to be more intense, now that we
didn’t have a layer of jeans between us. It was only going to get
better, once I slipped my fingers down inside her panties and stroked
her bare and hot right where she needed it. But first she was going
to have to tell me how much she needed it. She was so close to the
edge, with such an aching, urgent desire throbbing through her, I
couldn’t resist fanning the flames even higher.

“I can’t wait to
touch you, Violet,” I said, stroking her gently, teasing. I cupped
her breast and gave it a lick, a kiss. I couldn’t wait to make her
come. But I only had right now, this one time. I needed to make the
most of it.

“Before I make you
come, Violet, I want to hear it from you. Before I give you what you
need, you have to tell me. Do I make you wet?”

“Yes,” she exhaled,
desperate, pushing against my fingers. “You make me so wet.”

That was good, but I
was a relentless man. In a low whisper, I asked for more. “Tell me,
Violet. Do you need me to make you come?”

“Yes, please, Heath,”
she begged. “Please make me come.”

That did it. I brought
my hand to the side of her lace and pulled. Her panties came apart in
my hand. I hadn’t meant to rip them in two, but these things
happened. I was a big, rough guy, and they’d been between me and
what I needed.

Heaven. Sinking my
fingers into her slick pussy, I found it. She seemed to feel the same
way. Her nails dug into my shoulders and she cried out as I moved my
hand along her, stroking, petting. She met my every move, swaying
against me, eyes closed, her fists balled in my shirt.

“Oh!” she cried out
as I plunged a finger up inside of her. I didn’t even go deep, not
yet, I just wanted to feel her walls, tight and hot, surrounding me.
My cock throbbed in response. To be sheathed in that, her yielding,
wet need, and she felt so tight. My cock would spread her. She’d
need to work to take me in all the way.

I kissed her throat as
I worked my finger in and out, slow, and the noises she made nearly
did me in. The moans, the cries. She could come quick, I could tell,
but I wanted more. I was a selfish man when it came to giving. I
brought my other hand to her back.

“Lean back, baby,”
I murmured, guiding her. That giant parka was like a portable
bed—look, it did come in handy—and she rested back against the
steering wheel. Now I could see more, watch her splayed before me,
her naked breasts quivering and exposed. I couldn’t imagine
anything I wanted to see more than her losing herself in an orgasm.
But I wanted to watch it build, see it play out across her features,
tremor throughout her whole body.

With a hand at her
breast, I circled her soft mound, watching her feel it. With a
whimper of frustration, she brought her hand to my forearm, the one
down below. She was impatient. I chuckled, liking her like that. But
I was in charge.

“Bring your hands to
the steering wheel, right behind your head.” I said it gently,
coaxing, but I meant it. She was going to have to lean back and take
it if she wanted to get to the end of this ride. I wanted to take my
time with her, and she’d have to suffer through it. I guided her
hands up and back until they framed her perfect face. She panted, her
eyes open now, watching me.

I met her gaze, a small
smile playing at my lips as I trailed my hands back down along the
center of her body. Such a playground, the dip between her breasts,
the plane along her stomach, the valley below. Drinking in her every
reaction, I slid a finger in her again, grazing along her swollen,
sensitive clit. She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes, moaning
and turning her head to the side.

“Feel good, Violet?”
I couldn’t resist asking as I stroked her. She felt so good under
my hands, so small next to my size but so needy I knew she could take
me.

“Heath!” she cried
out, clutching the steering wheel behind her head, her nipples stiff
and exposed as she arched her back. I brought my other hand up to her
breasts and squeezed, stroked.

“I could play with
you like this all night,” I said, and I meant it. She surrounded me
in every possible way, the sight of her, her scent, her pants of
need, and touch the most intense of all. The way my fingers glided
along, how wet she was for me, how intensely her body responded to
and welcomed me.

She whimpered and
ground her pussy down on my fingers, showing me what she needed. I
could play with her all night, but she needed to come. Desperately.

“You need to come,
baby?” I asked her, circling her clit, palming her breast, watching
her face.

“Yes!” she cried
out, gripping the steering wheel, offering herself to me.

How could I say no to
that? With fierce possessiveness, I grasped her pebbled nipple
between my large, rough fingers and positioned my other hand at her
entrance.

“Come for me,
Violet.” I drove two fingers up into her, deep, stretching her
farther than I had before, while the large pad of my thumb found her
clit. She screamed, pushing into me, her body filled with ecstatic
tension as she began to come, her thighs squeezed, her hips bucking.
I pinched her nipple, hard, and her mouth opened into a perfect
O
as she came and came on my fingers, each shudder and wave of orgasm
rushing and crashing over her seeming more intense than the last.

Until she began to sink
down, her ass resting again against my lap, her hands loosening their
grip on the wheel behind her head. Her screams melted into moans and
she was able to bring her head straight again, opening her eyes to
look at me dazed and heavy-lidded. She looked amazed, like I might
actually be Superman here in the middle of Vermont. A crazy part of
me wanted to be exactly that for her.

“You’re so
beautiful,” I murmured as I took her into my arms, holding her to
me as the last sighs tremored through her body. She was more than
beautiful, and if I could come up with a new word, I would, but for
now I just held her, held her close in the darkness, feeling her
heart beat against mine.

Violet

I just had the most
blindingly, earth-shatteringly intense orgasm. In the cab of a pickup
truck with a complete stranger. It left a woman wondering What. The.
Fuck.

Because the way he held
me? The way he looked at me, reverent like he worshipped every inch
of me? Only reverent wasn’t exactly right because his eyes were so
heated, so carnal and wicked I knew he wanted to do much more than
simply admire. He wanted to do all sorts of things to me and oh did I
want that, too. I wanted it so badly it made my teeth ache. Even as
the final ebbs and tides of the orgasm to end all orgasms throbbed
throughout my body, I could still feel the heat. The mere size of
him, his powerful arms encircling me, making me feel like nothing bad
would ever happen to me again in life. He had me. He’d protect me,
cherish and treasure me.