Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance (20 page)

I tried to climb him, aware of the solidness of him, the
burning heat and prickle of perspiration that moistened my skin.  My breasts
smashed into him with each of my heaving breaths.  I pressed my cheek to his
neck, closing my eyes as his hair tickled my hot face.  “Gary,” I murmured
again.

“You gotta talk to me here,” he said.  “Otherwise I’m going to
keep doing what I’m doing.”

I was silent.  The pulsing ache in my pussy had been
overridden by what he was doing to my ass.  The curious feel of it, the
forbidden sensations, the slight pull and sting all felt…amazing.

“God, Helly…what you do to me.”

What
I
did to
him
?  Didn’t he understand how
he captivated me completely?  How one look from him destroyed me so utterly? 
He commanded my body, and the jury was still out on my mind.  He could do
anything to me, and I’d let him.

I rocked my hips against him, pressing my clit into his
fly.  His finger was moving in me, pressing its way in, then sliding out,
mimicking the hot thrust of sex.  And I found I liked it.  I writhed, working
myself on him.

Words were rising up in me, finally, buoyed by a burning
wave of desperation.  “Hard and fast,” I said in a hot exhalation against his
neck.

“That’s my girl.”  In two steps, he had my bare butt on the
saw horse.  His hands slid between us, unbuttoning and unzipping.  Then he was
out, hard and hot, and his big, strong hands scooped me up and lifted.

I claimed his mouth, kissing him with everything I had.  It
was hot, and wonderfully wet, and so intense his coordination of our parts
faltered.  But finally he was pressing into me, and his hands were on my hips,
and I was sinking down on him.  He was filling me up, and the feel of it was so
goddamn intense—

“Fuck, we forgot the condom again,” he gasped.

I growled into his mouth, pulling on his hair.  I glared
into his eyes.  “Don’t get me pregnant,” I ordered.

He stalled, looking uncertain.

“But do fuck me.  Now,” I ordered, rotating my hips on him. 
The feel of him inside me left me breathless.  I’d been so well-prepped, I
fancied I could feel every inch of him pressing me open.  He was heavy inside
me, warm and throbbing, the fit so deliciously tight.

He lowered me back onto that sawhorse, and then his hips
were pumping up into me.

“Yes.  Yes!” I cried.  I loved the hot slide, every naked
inch of him as he pushed in.  He reached new depths today, bumping hot and sensitive
parts inside me.  His balls were already drawn up tight, and they ground
against me.

“Helly,” he gasped.  He pressed his lips to my forehead, to
my hair.  His hands clenched on me, but then he seemed to remember himself, and
he loosened his grip.

I wasn’t helping.  I writhed in his hold, pushing myself
into each of his thrusts, arching my back so he rode hard against my clit.  I
moaned as our flesh slapped.  The pleasure roared, and the sawhorse creaked.

He bent down, and I gasped with loss as his thrusts became
shallower.  But then he nipped at my aching nipple through my shirt, and I saw
stars.  My whole body tensed and tightened, and the arch of my back became even
more pronounced.  As he continued to nip and pull at my tortured nipple, my mouth
opened in the beginnings of a silent scream.  My thighs trembled around him.

He chuckled against my quivering flesh, feeling me start to
contract around the tip of his cock.  My pussy felt like it was on fire, and
even just the tiniest nudge—

Squeezing my breast in his hand, he sucked on my nipple,
hard.

I bucked under him, completely losing it.  My orgasm was a
wild thing.  I didn’t ride it; it rode me.

He let my breast pop free, and then he was pounding in tight
between my legs, again and again, plowing through my squeezing muscles.

He had his hands full, trying to hang onto me.  My body
jerked under the assault as the pleasure redoubled, and then redoubled again. 
I couldn’t come down until he quit, until he’d finished, until he stopped.

But he didn’t stop.  The top of my head felt like it was
gonna fly off.  My cheeks were on fire, my eyes wide open but I saw nothing. 
My whole body was alive with electricity, grounded by the burning thrust of him
into me.  I was cussing in my head, every awful, dirty word I knew.  But I
seemed to have lost my voice, and my breath, again.

My orgasm was long, and violent, and very, very wet.  At
some point, it began to feel like it was happening to someone else, this
endless thrashing of my nerve endings.  My toes were numb, and the feeling was
crawling ever upward.

“Gah,” I said.  And then things went dark.

Chapter
Seventeen

“H
elly,
honey.”  The voice sounded like it came from a long, long way away.  “Come back
to me.  I love that I do that to you, but I don’t want to fuck a rag doll. 
Come back, sweetheart.”

I realized I was dangling from his arms, his erection still
thick and throbbing inside me. 

He smiled down at me, and then pulled me in against his
chest.  His hands gripped my thighs, and he boosted me up into his arms.  I
snuggled against him, feeling his hips moving and a slight breeze on the back
of my neck as he walked.

He carried me down the hall, and then turned left, through a
doorway.  One of his arms came from around me, and I realized he’d been pulling
up mosquito netting as he bent and eased me under it and onto his bed.

I moaned as he withdrew and left me lying there with my
lower legs dangling over the edge.  I watched through the netting as he started
to disrobe.  He peeled his shirt off, revealing that chest I was so in love
with—in
lust
with, I corrected with a wince—the curves and planes and
dips lovingly—shit, there I went again—shadowed by the natural light slanting
in through the window.  I licked my lips, my gaze roaming over him, feeling
like there weren’t enough hours in the day to worship all that.

His erection rose high and hard from his gaping fly, still
slick with my juices.  I was sure his legs were really nice, and would have
admired them, too, as he pushed his pants down, but my eyes were stuck to his
dick.  He had a beautiful one, as penises go.  It was thick and long and
straight, and filled me perfectly.

The things I wanted to do to this man…  I wanted to have sex
with him, in every position.  I wanted him to push that inside me—in every
hole.  I hadn’t nearly had my fill of him.  Not by a long shot.  Maybe I was
staring at him with a lusty, half-lidded gaze, because if anything, his cock
just throbbed higher, and harder.

He moved to his nightstand and pulled a condom out of his
own 36-count box—
My God, how many did the man need? 
His warm fingers
wrapped around my lower leg, and he slid my shoes off my feet one at a time.

Then he crawled in under the netting next to me.  He lifted
me further up the bed, and then sat me up and pulled my shirt off over my head,
undressing me as if I were a child.

Er—not so much like a child.  As soon as he revealed my
breasts in their lacy cups, he was cupping me with his callused hands, his
thumbs caressing the upper slopes.  Then he bent and brushed his stubbled cheek
along the same path, making me shiver.  He dragged down one cup and laid a
long, wet lick across my hardened nipple.

I could feel my womb tightening.  I knew if I let him
continue on this course, I’d be a blubbering, pleasure-drunk idiot within a
matter of minutes.  And that’s not what I wanted.  So I pushed him away.

He fell back onto his ass on the bed, leaning back on one
hand, blinking at me in a way that said he’d been into what he’d been doing
just as much as I had.  “Wha—?” he started.

I pushed him again, leaning into it.  He resisted at
first—and I resolved to trace each and every one of those abs with my tongue, later—but
he finally let me push him onto his back.

He started to speak again, and I held out a hand like a
traffic cop.  “Stay,” I commanded.

His brows climbed, and he looked to be right on the edge of
disobeying, but I think my reaching back for my bra clasp was the magic
ingredient.  He watched my breasts bob free with a hungry expression.  When he
reached for them, I slapped his hand, and I knew that’d done it.  His eyes
flared, and those abs tensed up—

But then I leaned down, and licked across the head of his
cock.  Yeah, he rethought fighting me real fast.  Now, I could have played with
him, could have teased him, but I’m not a real patient person.  So after a few
experimental licks in which I tasted myself and sampled the flavor of his
precum, I jumped right in, feet-first, just like I do everything else. 

I slid my mouth and tongue up and down on him, taking as
much as I could handle.  I tilted my head a bit to watch him as I did so, and
if I’d been able to smile with a cock in my mouth, I would have.

He looked absolutely ragged, his face flushed, his eyes
dark.  His chest heaved, and he had two big handfuls of the comforter.  His
hips nudged upward to meet each of my mouth’s downward slides.  The sight of
him being driven wild, and the taste of him—the combined taste of us,
really—and the thick intrusion of him bumping my throat, made my pussy burn.

He reached for me again, and I didn’t know what he was gonna
do—play with my breasts or pull me around so he could do naughty things to my
backside again, maybe—but I did know that if I let him, I’d be distracted from
my course.  Remember the pleasure-drunk idiot?  Yeah, I didn’t really multitask
in bed.

My current ‘task’ was to make him cum.  I wanted him to cum
in my mouth, and I wanted to watch the expression on his face as he did so.

So I resisted as he wrapped a hand around my thigh and
tugged.

“Helly,” he said.

I pulled up off him and said, “Just…let me.”  Then I licked
my way down his shaft and sucked one of his balls into my mouth.

He grabbed the comforter again, his thighs flexing under my
forearm.  “Fuck,” he gasped.

Cussing, though: Cussing was allowed.

His balls were drawing up fast, and the other refused to be
coaxed into my mouth.  I licked across his puckered flesh, and up his rampant
cock to engulf the angry head again.  I sucked him hard, sliding the flat of my
tongue along the underside, watching him fall apart under me.

I’d always found it hard to study someone else’s pleasure
when they were driving me out of my mind—or, hell, maybe I just hadn’t wanted
to—but I loved watching Gary climb toward that peak.  His erection got even
thicker and heavier in my mouth, the little tastes of salty precum coming more
frequently.  His muscles were doing this breathtaking rippling thing, and he
was watching my mouth on his dick with rapt attention.

I pulled back enough to show him a flash of pink tongue flicking
around his head, and his low moan seemed to resonate somewhere deep inside me. 
I didn’t really know what was going on.  Honestly, sucking cock wasn’t my
favorite thing.  It’d been a chore with my previous boyfriends, but with Gary? 
It seemed to be its own reward.  Sucking him was making me hotter, and wetter,
than my previous boyfriends ever had with their best efforts.

“Helly,” he rasped.  It was the same word, but the tone was
different again.  This one was warning, and desperation, hope, and maybe even a
teensy bit of gentle fondness.

“Go ahead,” I whispered, concentrating on the tip of his
dick.  I cupped his balls, stroking those, too.

“I’m gonna—”

“I know,” I said, meeting his eyes so he knew that I knew
exactly what he was saying.  “Go ahead,” I repeated.  Then, still meeting his
gaze, I plunged down on him, taking as much of him as I could, feeling him
nudge into my throat.

“Fuck!” he said again.

I sucked him hard, loving the way he gasped.  He was
quivering—yeah, I’d reduced Gary to quivering—and he groaned as his hips bucked
up, pushing him into me.  His cock jerked, and I felt the first warm gush in
the back of my mouth.  I swallowed him down, and the next, and the next,
watching him do the Gary version of the drooling idiot.

I loved it.  I think I was finally ready to admit that to
myself.  I loved being with him, loved every moment of it.  It was better than
any of my sex scenes, by far.  It was more even than the details; more than the
salty taste of him on my tongue, more than his ragged little sounds of
pleasure—which I also loved.

There was something that went beyond pure physical lust
here.  There was a warmth, a connection.  Some
something
that felt light
and bright and happy in my chest, a sense of utter completion when I looked
into his gorgeous green eyes.

I was in so much trouble here.

Gary surged upward suddenly, and pulled me up off his cock. 
He bore me backward even as his mouth covered mine.  His kiss was hard,
passionate.  I wrapped my arms around his neck, welcoming him, loving that he
didn’t seem to mind the taste of himself.

He was moving slightly in my hold, his shoulders flexing
against my arms, and then he was yanking at my skirt.  I wanted to laugh,
because the stubborn thing had stayed on through two bouts of mind-numbing sex,
but his tongue was a pretty effective gag.  I moaned instead, and lifted my
butt up to help him as much as I could.  Then I bent my knees so he could slide
it off without pulling away.

He pushed me flat again, and then nudged his way between my
legs.  His hips pushed down against mine, and he lowered his upper body until
my breasts were squashed beneath his chest.  Then, as if having me pinned
beneath him soothed his urgency, his kiss gentled somewhat.

His tongue became playful, flicking against mine, tracing my
lower lip.  His hands roamed down my sides as if trying to memorize the feel of
my ribcage, my waist.  One tucked under me to squeeze my ass in a way that had
me hooking my leg over his hip, whimpering into his mouth.  He’d gotten me all
hot and bothered with that blowjob, and now it looked like he was going to
tease me.

But of course he was.  This was
Gary
.  The only way
this could be more like him was if he teased me loudly.

He finally pulled his mouth away entirely, chuckling when I
lifted up to try to recapture it.  His eyes gleamed in the low light, his
fingers doing a little dance across the side of my breast.  “Where are your
brothers?” he asked.

Uggghh.
  I didn’t want to talk about my brothers.  I
had a hot, naked man on top of me, and who knew how much time we had left
before the terrible trio got back from their macho mission.  What I
wanted
was to start stuffing some of my empty holes… raunchy, I know.

But that hot, naked man wasn’t giving in to my tugging, and
he had a brow raised in question.  He even took the hand that’d been toying
with my breast away, telling me clear as day that if I didn’t answer, I
wouldn’t be getting any more.

“They went hunting,” I said.  I sighed with pleasure when he
started petting me again.

“Hunting?”

“They went after a bear.  It got into my freezer this
morning.  And it sorta, kinda charged me the other day.”

His hand stopped.  “What?”

I explained about the damn bear as I wiggled under him.  I
would have even settled for a thigh to grind up against.  I just needed…a
little bit more.  I massaged his shoulders, trying to disguise the fact that I
was trying to push him downward.

“So you sent your brothers after a rogue bear, and took the
opportunity to run over here and jump me, hmm?”  He nudged his mouth in near my
ear, kissing and nibbling in a way that made me shiver.

I’d never felt such a sustained burn of arousal with my few
other lovers.  All Gary had to do was look at me, just blow a warm gust of
breath across my neck…  If he’d been upright, I would have climbed him like a
tree.  But he still had me pinned, and I think he was being willfully oblivious
to my plight.

It was almost painful, this teasing.  All he had to do was
slide his hand down; just a couple touches of his fingers against my clit, and
my suffering would be ended.  But of course he didn’t.

“So tell me about you,” he said as he kissed his way down my
neck.  When I didn’t answer after a few moments, he stopped.

I groaned.  I was finding out pleasure deprivation was a
helluva interrogation technique.

“What do you want to know?” I managed to ask.  My body was
alive with tingles, making it hard to think.

“Are your parents still alive?”

He had me pinned under him and he wanted to talk about my
parents
? 
This was even worse than talking about my brothers.  But he stopped his kisses
again—this time he was tracing them along my collarbones—and I was forced to
answer.

“Yes,” I gasped.

He still didn’t kiss me.  I assumed he was waiting for
more.  “They’re alive and well, they live in Palmer,” I said, tugging his head
back down.

He laughed against my skin, and his hand found my breast
again.

“Oh…
God
,” I said, arching up into that wonderful
touch.

“Is that where you grew up?” he asked between trailing
kisses down my chest.

“Yessss,” I hissed as his stubble brushed the inner curves
of my breasts.  My skin broke out in gooseflesh, and I pressed my heels into
his lower back.

He pinched my nipple, increasing the pressure until I dug my
nails into him.  “Why’d they name you Helly?” he asked.

“They didn’t.  It’s Haley.”  His thumb started to do these
little nipple circles, side-tracking me.  It was only when he quit and looked
up at me expectantly that I realized he wanted more.  “It got perverted when
the brothers couldn’t pronounce it,” I said. 
And it was fitting, so it
stuck.

“Middle name?”

I groaned.  “I hate my middle name.”

“Everybody hates their middle name,” he said.  “Spit it
out.”

“Jolene,” I growled.

He chuckled.  “Helly-Jo,” he mused.

“Only if you want to die.”

“Age?” he asked, somehow managing to get even nosier.  He
had licked a spot close to my areola and was blowing a cool stream of air
across it.

“Twenty-five.”

“Did you go to college?” he asked.  I barely heard him past
the shockwaves he was generating with his soft-then-hard touches.  He kept
smoothing his hand around, barely touching me, almost tickling, and then he’d
deliver a firm squeeze or rub or pinch that told me exactly what he
could
be doing.