Wildflower (15 page)

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Authors: Lynda Bailey

BOOK: Wildflower
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She gave the most minuscule of jumps before relaxing, a sigh purring in her throat. He eased back onto his haunches before standing. “I’m gonna rinse you now.”

He took a warm pot of water from the cooking hook and carefully poured it over her shoulders and back, making sure not to get her hair too wet. He grabbed a towel. “Okay. Stand.”

Trusting green eyes speared his chest. She gripped the sides of the tub then slowly rose to her feet and stepped from the tub.

Logan’s world tilted. His head swam as though he’d been thrown from his horse.

Lord have mercy.

He knew she was beautiful. But the vision before him was so much more than just beautiful.

Water sluiced down her breasts and her rosy nipples were peaked, straining upward, enticing him. His mouth watered to taste them. To rasp his tongue against them. To savor them.

Her narrow waist, begging for his hands to span it, flared to lush hips. Her pussy curls winked with bath water. Soon other moisture would be there. Her juices, flowing from her as she came again and again.

He reined in his lust. Go slow, his brain ordered. But staring at Matt, at her sexy body, going slow was going to be hard.

Damned hard.

This was the first time he’d truly seen her glorious body. Darkness and his own haste had impeded him before. She stood before him, baring all. Her expression was tentative, yet desire burned in those green eyes.

He wrung the towel with both hands, fighting the primal urge boiling over inside him. “Turn around.” He didn’t recognize the gravelly voice as his own.

She complied and he draped the towel over her shoulders. He placed another one on the rug in front of the hearth before toweling off her skin.

His Levi’s pounded harder as his cock demanded release. He clenched his jaw tight. He would go
slow
. She deserved that much from him. Done drying her back, he tenderly turned her to face him.

Her breathing was choppy. So was his. Her eyes were big and round. Innocent.

He moved the towel over her breasts, eliciting more throaty moans when it abraded her nipples. He worked lower, across her taunt belly, squatting as he went.

“Spread your legs.”

She did and he dried first one lithe leg then the other. He kept his gaze anywhere but on her sex. The anticipation was killing him.

Finally, he patted the towel lightly between her legs. Her body convulsed and she grasped his shoulders. He looked up, unable to mask the hunger he knew was in his gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you all over, sweetheart. Including right here.”

Hooded eyes stared back. The elegant muscles of her neck fought to swallow. He placed a chaste, open-mouth kiss on her curls then stood and gathered her into his arms. An easy hug, one she responded to without hesitation. She melted against him, her face tipped up. He accepted the invitation, taking her lips in a soft, kissing caress.

His tongue played with hers. Touching and retreating then touching again.

His hands traced the length of her back then came around to mold her breasts. A sigh eased from her. His thumbs outlined her nipples. Flicked the pointed centers. She whimpered. Kissed him with more urgency. Urgency he felt, but refused to bend to.

Effortlessly, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. His heart. He knelt on the floor and laid her out on the cushion of towels, never abandoning her lips, and stretched out beside her. Her hands traveled across his back and shoulders. Her touch scorched him through his shirt.

She tore her mouth away. “I want your shirt off. I want to touch you.”

The raspy edge of need spiking her words had his chambray shirt sailing across the room within seconds. His bare chest blanketed her breasts. The feel of her nipples against his skin nearly broke his resolve to go slow. He wanted to ravage her. Take her body and her soul. Claim her, brand her as his and his alone.

But he couldn’t. If he did, he might lose her.

She had to come to him. Had to be the one to want marital relations. Complete marital relations. His cock in her pussy. Taking his seed. Binding them together. If he coerced her in any way, she’d hate him. Forever.

He wouldn’t risk that. He’d have to settle for tasting and touching her. Doing everything except bedding her until she was ready.

On a frustrated groan, he tore his mouth from hers to kiss and nip her neck. He reveled in the scent and taste of her skin as he sipped from one shoulder to the other.

She writhed beneath him, her fingers burrowing in his hair, encouraging him to go lower. To her breast. To take a rigid nipple into his mouth.

He did and her fingers tightened in his hair to hold him in place. He licked and laved her nipple before drawing it deep into his mouth. Her back arched off the floor and she twisted toward him in a silent plea for more.

And more he would give.

Logan paid equal homage to her other breast then kissed each rib. He dipped his tongue in her bellybutton as his fingers stroked her pussy curls. Played with them. He kissed her each of her hip bones before settling himself between her legs.

She went stiffer than a rail tie. He looked up across the sensual expanse of her body. She stared back at him, a groove marring the smooth space between her eyebrows.

“I’m scared.”

The whispered words nearly cracked his heart. He didn’t think she’d be scared facing down a charging loco bull. Since he’d married her, she’d claimed—twice—that she was scared.

Logan sidled forward until his cheek rested on her belly. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

Her gaze darted away then back. She said nothing, but uncertainty mingled with the hungry desire in her eyes. She wanted this, he was sure, yet fear of the unknown had her pausing.

He caressed a hand down her arm. “Remember how good it felt to soar through the air over the pond?”

She gave a tiny nod.

“And how it felt with me in the barn and again last night?”

Another nod.

“Hang onto that, sweetheart. Hang onto me.” He intertwined their fingers. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She clutched his hand in a death grip and closed her eyes. He waited for her body to relax, if only slightly, before turning his attention back to her weave of nether hair.

Losing the use of one hand hampered his efforts but didn’t stop them. He brushed back the curls to expose her dewy folds. Her wildflower scent infused his senses. It swamped his brain faster than whiskey, made his shaft even thicker.

The first intimate kiss of his mouth jolted her hips off the floor.


Shh
,” he soothed, his fingers tightening around hers. “Easy, sweetheart.”

He placed another kiss. She twitched violently though she managed to stay on the floor. By the third, fourth and fifth kiss, she lay taunt, not moving, but her tension had increased like barbed wire strung too tight.

Logan smoothed her hair again, felt her shuddering quivers of anticipation and fear. Her button of pleasure was exposed. He stretched out his tongue, eager for his first true taste of her virgin skin…

It exploded against his taste buds. Tangy. Sweet.

Intoxicating.

Whiskey had nothing on Matt. And like all good whiskeys, a man couldn’t stop with just one sample. Despite his vow to go slow, he couldn’t. Lord in heaven, he couldn’t.

He
lapped
her sex. Licked and suckled her clit, not able to get enough. Every taste only made him
more hungry
, more starved, in need of more.

From very far away, her moans registered in his head. She released his hand, her fingers threading through his hair. He wanted to eat her alive. Devour her. Die with his face in her pussy.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. So damn good.”

With one hand, he cupped her bottom to raise her higher. His tongue continued to swirl in, around and through her scented, sexy folds as he inserted a finger into her tight, tight slit.

Hell’s fire.

A dark, primitive urge rushed his brain. He wanted his cock there, not his damn finger.

He could take her right here. Bind her to him forever. Brand her. He could do it. She was in no condition to stop him. The possibility had his blood surging in his veins, his cock hammering at twice his heartbeat.

But because he could didn’t mean he would. Sometimes he truly hated himself and his fucking morality.

He didn’t want morals. He wanted Matt, naked and thrashing beneath him, his cock buried so far inside her it touched her soul.

He wasn’t going to get that. But he was gaining ground. He needed to stay patient—not his strong suit—just a little bit longer.

He pressed a second finger into her pussy while his thumb played at her ass entrance. You would have thought she was riding a bucking bronco the way her hips bucked and bounced. He whorled his tongue around her nub as his fingers thrust in and out of her cunt. He sucked her clit deep into his mouth. He heard his name. A breathless, pleading sound.

There was a change to her taste. It became saltier. She was about to come. He sucked harder, made his fingers worked faster. He wanted her juices on his tongue. In his mouth.

Her cry of release sent a shudder of pure male satisfaction down his spine. Ripples clenched his fingers. But he didn’t relent. He kept caressing and licking until she was reduced to tiny spasms.

Finally, Logan crawled up her body and took her lips in a possessive kiss. She returned the kiss with abandon. He lifted and gazed in her glittering green eyes.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered.

He smiled at the wonder and awe in her voice.

“Is it supposed to be like that?”

“If you do it right.”

She grazed the back of her hand down his cheek. “Guess you did it right.”

He took her hand and kissed the palm before holding it to his heart. “Guess I did. Now it’s your turn.”

~
~
~

Her turn.

Logan dropped on his butt, yanking at his boots then his socks.

Matt wondered what he’d meant by that.

He shoved to his feet and tugged his belt buckle free before undoing the buttons of his Levi’s.

Whatever the meaning, she hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. She felt weaker than a newborn calf.

Logan tore the denims from his lengthy legs. The firelight outlined the rich contours of his shoulders and chest. His belly was flatter that a corral post and looked just as hard. His engorged shaft jutted straight out from his body. He stared down at her, his face shadowed, but bright intensity burned in his eyes. She shivered.

Maybe she wasn’t so tired after all.

He knelt beside her and pulled her to her knees, facing him. Hesitancy made her shy. “What should I do?”

His arms came around her. “Anything you want.”

Anything she wanted? Too bad she didn’t know what that was.

His lips covered hers and his tongue probed her mouth, though not in a controlling manner. Strong, yes. Everything about her husband was strong. And virile.

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