Angel Creek (14 page)

As soon as he released her she jumped to her feet
and sprang at him. “You little bitch,” he said admiringly, and he laughed as he evaded her fists, taking hold of her arms and instead forcing her back against the wall.

Dee fought with the intent to win, and that meant using whatever means she could. She was severely hampered by the way he held her arms, so she resorted to kicking, trying for his crotch. His laughter stopped abruptly when her foot landed on his thigh, far too close for comfort, and he solved the problem by crushing her up against the wall with his body.

“Now fight me,” he panted.

She tried, twisting and heaving, but with the wall behind her and his heavy body pressing her from the front she had no room to do anything more. She kicked, and he used the moment of motion to force his legs inside hers. With another quick move he had her lifted off her feet, his muscled thighs holding hers apart while he ground his pelvis against her.

She stopped fighting, because it was useless and would only increase the heavy pressure of his erection between her legs. She leaned her head back against the wall, panting. “Damn you, let me go.”

Instead he lifted her higher and hungrily closed his mouth over her breast. The wet heat penetrated her layers of clothing, and she felt her nipple tighten, pebbling under the onslaught of his tongue. Desire mingled sharply with anger until she wondered if they weren't the same thing after all.

He released her arms so he could pull at her blouse, and without that support her weight dragged downward, pressing her even harder against his groin. A
heavy surge of pure need shook her, making her cry out, and she clenched her hands in his hair rather than using her new freedom to fight him off. Her blouse ripped under his savage hands, then his fingers locked in the top of her shift and jerked, subjecting it to the same fate. He cupped her naked breasts in his hands and pushed them together, his beard scraping her soft skin as he sucked at first one breast and then the other.

She twisted, crying out again. Lucas drank in the sound, roughly kissing her while he continued massaging her breasts. There was no stopping this time; he had to have her, had to satisfy the burning, untamed hunger in both of them. He worked his hand under her skirt and untied her drawers, dragging them down over her buttocks.

Dee stilled as she felt her underwear slipping down; her head turned away, and her eyes closed. She had been totally naked in front of him before but had not felt so bare as she did now, so vulnerable. He moved back a little from her and let her legs come together, and the cotton drawers slithered down her legs to pool around her ankles. “Step out of them,” he whispered, and mindlessly she did.

The heavy weight of his body returned to lie against her, holding her to the wall. His hands were still under her skirt, on her naked flesh, kneading her buttocks and stroking her thighs, and finally covering her mound.

She held her breath, not even daring to breathe in her agony of anticipation and need. His hand moved slowly, one long finger sliding down into the slit of her soft folds. The lash of pleasure was almost cruel, and
so strong that she bucked in his arms. He held her, that one finger moving mercilessly back and forth. He sank it a little way into her, and she almost screamed from the shock, yet her legs opened wider to allow him to do whatever he wanted. She squirmed, her nails digging into his shoulders as his wet finger returned to find the small nub at the top of her sex and roll it back and forth, this time shattering her control and making her scream.

“God, you're beautiful,” he muttered, watching her skin flush with desire. She was unutterably wild and glorious, with her head tilted back and her bare breasts heaving from the force of her breathing. She had blazed up like wildfire, burning beyond her control, just as he had known she would.

She was wet silk between her legs, so soft and hot he thought he might explode just touching her. He held her securely and eased his finger into her again, probing deeper, using his thumb to rub her and keep her hot so she wouldn't object to his penetration. She jerked, whimpering, and her internal muscles tightened on his finger to hold it so snugly he almost groaned aloud, thinking how tight she would be on his shaft. He couldn't enter her very far before he met the surprisingly firm resistance of her maidenhead, and he knew that this initial act wouldn't be very easy for either of them.

His hand had brought her close to orgasm, and she squirmed wildly against him, seeking release from the terrible, exquisite tension. “Easy, easy,” Lucas whispered against her mouth as he pushed his thigh between her legs, shoving it high and hard against her.
The heat of her burned him even through his pants. “Let me show you how.”

He put both hands on her hips and began rocking her against his thigh. She shuddered and moaned and couldn't stop, the low gasping sounds growing louder as the aching need intensified. The hard thigh between her legs both eased the ache and made it worse, so that she didn't know what to do. She began sobbing and beat at him with her fists, but he merely pushed her higher so that her toes were off the ground and she forked his leg. His hard hands kept her hips moving in that maddening rhythm, and she couldn't take it any longer, she couldn't, until it felt as if every muscle in her lower body clamped down and convulsed and her senses exploded in a storm of sensation. The great waves of ecstasy washed over her one after the other and finally passed to leave her as weak as a kitten, barely coherent and limp in his hands.

Lucas lowered her to the floor and stretched her out, his face hard with his own passion as he tore his pants open. If he took the time to carry her into the bedroom she might recover enough to begin fighting him again, and he had to be inside of her or go mad. Nothing was easy with Dee, and certainly not her denouement; having tested the strength of her maidenhead, he knew it would hurt her, and Dee didn't take kindly to being hurt.

He shoved her skirt to her waist and spread her legs, then settled between them. She made a low sound deep in her throat, and her slim legs came up to clasp his hips. Lucas set his mouth on hers, feeling the sleepy parting of her lips and the slow glide of her
arms around his neck. He drank in the sweetness of her response even as he reached down and guided his shaft to the small, soft opening and pushed inside. He did it with a strong, even stroke, not pausing at the internal resistance but not being rough with her either. He could almost feel the shock reverberate through her body as it absorbed his penetration, the virginal walls tightening about him as if to prevent him from going deeper, and it felt even better than he had imagined. She was hot and wet and impossibly tight, the sensation racing along his nerves.

Then she screamed. It was a sound of mingled pain and fury, and just what he had expected. Some women would lie docile beneath a dominating man, but not Dee. She exploded into movement, her entire body heaving and bucking in an effort to dislodge him from inside her. Everything about it maddened her: the burning pain as he forced his way into her, his weight as he held her down, the very penetration of her body. She couldn't accept it; she mindlessly struggled against that domination, against the invasion of herself.

Lucas held her down with all of his weight and the iron strength of his arms and legs, letting her fight it out until she became accustomed to his length inside her. Her fierce struggle moved her on him almost as if he were thrusting, and he ground his teeth as he held himself as still as possible. Sweat sheened his skin as he waited for her to tire, for the pain to lessen, for her to begin to feel the pleasure of a man's fullness stretching her and probing deep. She was naturally voluptuous, and he had already shown her the heights
of physical enjoyment; she wouldn't be able to deny herself for long. He hoped.

That point came gradually. She was already tired from both their previous struggle and her climax; he could feel her muscles relax, against her will, for she would almost immediately tighten them for renewed rejection, but the pauses between struggles grew longer until the struggles finally ceased. She lay still beneath him, breathing hard, her eyes closed against the naked triumph in his.

He kissed her forehead and smoothed the tangle of hair back from her face. “Is it still hurting?” he murmured against her temple.

She moved restlessly, and her hands settled on his sides as if she couldn't decide whether to embrace him or push him away. “Yes. I don't like it.” Then honesty compelled her to add, “But it doesn't hurt as much as it did at first.”

“Just lie still for a little longer, sweetheart. If it still hurts then, I'll stop.”

She was silent, and her breath continued to slow. Lucas shifted against her, luxuriating in the feel of her enveloping him. Sweat trickled down his back.

“Damn you, you knew it would be like this, didn't you?” Experimentally she flexed her inner muscles around the burning shaft that had invaded her, relaxing a bit when it didn't result in pain.

Lucas tensed and groaned. “Jesus. Sweetheart, please, don't move.”

“You're crushing me,” she said in a low voice. “Couldn't you at least have put me on the bed?”

“We'll get to the bed,” he promised, brushing her
lips with his. For now, he thought, the floor was just fine.

She opened her eyes. Her gaze was solemn and questioning. “What you made me feel before—doing this will make me feel the same?”

“If I do it right. If you want me enough.”

She gave a little laugh and lifted her knees alongside his hips. “Oh, I want you.”

“Enough?”

She knew what he was asking, and her somber green eyes met his intense blue ones. “Yes. Enough.”

He moved slowly, thrusting inward until his entire length stretched her. Dee gasped, her body arching upward, and just as slowly he withdrew. “You don't want me to stop?” he asked, just to make sure.

Her hands clutched at his sides. “No.” Her voice sounded strangled. “Oh, no.”

“I don't know if I can hold back long enough to satisfy you this time,” he said with grim honesty as he began moving in a strong rhythm.

For answer she locked her strong legs around his hips and lifted herself up to him, offering her body, as generous as he had been in first taking care of her. That was all it took. He began moving into her with a powerful rhythm, and she accepted him, welcomed him. With a stifled shout he went rigid, then shuddered violently and convulsed with the force of his seed spurting from his body.

An hour later they lay naked in the bed, exhausted and almost asleep. Scarcely had they recovered from the first lovemaking than he had grown erect once
again, and that time he had carried her to the bed and finished stripping their clothes off. She had found that making love could be a slow tangle of bodies, hot and languorous, that carried them to the same conclusion.

He had drawn it out, building her arousal so high that when the crest finally broke she had been wild with it, so that she had inevitably carried him to the same heights. He had made love to his share of women, but none of them had ever engrossed him the way Dee did. He was fascinated by the changes passion wrought in her body, from the hardening of her nipples to the moistening of her sweet little female channel. She was a she-cat in bed as well as out, giving just as fiercely as she took. He had known making love to her would be a challenge, but he hadn't known it would be both tiring and exhilarating, like riding and conquering a tidal wave until it subsided into gentle breakers on a beach.

He felt a cold twinge of panic as he lay there. Making love to anyone else after having had Dee would be like giving up the bite of whiskey for the sedative effects of heated milk. Because he didn't want to think she had ruined him for anyone else he willed the idea and the panic away, but it kept returning.

There was no way he could be satisfied with Olivia now. Before meeting Dee he had been certain in his mind that Olivia was the wife he wanted, a gently bred woman who knew how to hostess a large dinner, who would be at ease with politicians and millionaires. He had planned to acquire her just as he had planned to acquire more land, but in one short afternoon those plans had been turned to ashes. Thank God he had
held back and hadn't actually asked Olivia to marry him; she deserved a lot more than a husband who couldn't get another woman out of his mind.

He thought of Denver and the political maze he would have to negotiate to build the power base necessary to influence decisions the way he wanted. There would be receptions and dinners, endless maneuvering taking place with the socializing. He was willing to do that to build the Double C into an empire, maybe to pave the way for one of his own sons to be governor, but he had pictured Olivia at his side during the endless social functions, her cool, polished manner perfect for the situation.

Now when he brought up the image he found that the woman didn't have a face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't imagine Dee there. He couldn't see her catering to the comfort of a self-important politician; she would be more likely to skewer him with that rapier tongue of hers. No, she didn't fit in at all with the life he had planned for himself, even supposing she would be willing to try, which she wasn't. She had made it plenty clear that she liked her life the way it was, thank you, without anyone to tell her what to do. Sometimes—hell, most of the time—he wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her, but at the same time he grudgingly gave her the respect she deserved. It took a strong-willed woman to accomplish what she had, and she wasn't likely to submit that will to any man's.

So where did that leave him? Right where he was, he thought, and he didn't like the idea. He had learned not to make assumptions where Dee was concerned. Just because he had made love to her twice didn't
mean she would regard him as her lover, that she wouldn't fight him next time. And even if she didn't put up a fight about that, she would still resist with every stubborn inch of her against allowing him into any part of her life beyond that.