Emergency Delivery (Love Emergency) (12 page)

“Holy shit, Madison, this isn’t a competition, and I’m sure as hell not perfect.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You realize you’re saying this to a man who threw up on his front lawn last night?”

“Yeah, well, that’s better than throwing up in your bed, which is what you’re liable to do if I flash my big ugly belly at you.” If possible, the red staining her cheeks intensified.

Dammit. He should have just torn the stupid T-shirt off her the first night they’d fooled around, and then they’d be past all this by now. But he’d known from day one she battled self-consciousness, and he wanted her to be comfortable. He also wanted her out of the sweater. He slid his hands around back and cupped her ass. “Some of my favorite parts are under here. C’mon, baby, let me take it off. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted to the pillow on “her” side of the bed. “I had this all planned out last night. All the stuff we’d need, and exactly what I’d wear. I was going to surprise you. Everything was going to be perfect.”

Right. And he’d ruined it. He dropped his head in defeat. “Want me to step out while you slip into something more comfortable?”

The appreciative look she aimed at him almost erased his disappointment. “Just turn around and face the wall for a second. This won’t take long.”

He did as she asked, silently reciting square roots in his head to distract himself from the sounds of her shifting around on the bed behind him. After a moment, she said, “Okay. I’m ready. You can turn around now.”

“I don’t know. This ‘face the wall’ business is pretty hot. Maybe I’ll just—”

The smack of her palm across his ass cut him off.

“Excuse me, Miz Foley, did you just spank me? That’s the thanks I get after all my cooperation?” He turned to find her balanced on her knees, wearing one of his old shirts and a poorly stifled grin.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

“You don’t get off that easy.” He leaned in and caught her wrists. “Two can play this game.”

Despite his hold on her wrists, she edged away, putting as much distance as she could between him and her vulnerable backside. “I’m smaller and have a much lower pain threshold.”

“Sounds like stuff you should have thought of before you dished out something you couldn’t take.” He pushed her wrists together and cuffed them in his left hand.

“I bruise easily.”

“Same answer.” With a flick of his arm, he pulled her forward, unbalancing her and jostling a squeak out of her when she spilled across the mattress. Before she could even attempt to get to her knees, he threw a leg over her hips and straddled her. Then he pinned her arms behind her and held her wrists in a loose but unbreakable grip at the small of her back. “This here is what we call a teaching moment.” He slowly raised the T-shirt up to her waist, deliberately taking his time exposing the pale, perfect target. “Are you ready to learn your lesson?”

Chapter Fourteen

Madison blew her hair out of her face and then did her best to twist around and send Hunter a pitiful look.

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Those kitten eyes won’t work on me.” As if to prove it, he lazily circled a finger and drew a bulls-eye on her butt cheek. The feel of his big blunt fingertip swirling over her skin enlivened her hypersensitive nerve endings, and no amount of willpower could keep her from twitching to escape the torture.

His fingers stilled, but she knew a temporary respite when she experienced one. “Why, Madison, are you ticklish?”

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the comforter to smother the laughter welling in her chest. “No.” The comforter muffled her bald-faced lie but not her helpless scream when he tickled her again—longer and more vigorously this time. She laughed, and squirmed, and sucked in heavy, desperate breaths when he stopped for a moment, then she screamed yet again when he attacked the other cheek.

She heard him laughing, too, and the last slivers of nervousness inside her melted away. Trust Hunter to keep things playful and fun, despite all her crazy hang-ups.

He leaned over her, his voice low and teasing in her ear. “Say, ‘Hunter Knox, you own my pretty little ass.’”

“No wa—aahhhh. Nooooo!” Those wicked fingers attacked again, and reduced her to a twisting, sweating mess.

“Say it.”

“Hu-Hunter Kn-Kn-Knox”—she dragged in a much needed lungful of air and then spat the rest out in a rush—“You own my prettylittleass!”

He punctuated her surrender with a loud smack on said ass, which startled another giggle out of her. But her laughter faded into a moan when he hooked his arm around her waist, hauled her onto her knees, and proceeded to kiss her punished cheek.

His mouth roamed lower. “Hunter…” She tried to draw her arms under her and push herself up, but he took hold of the backs of her thighs and applied enough forward pressure to make it difficult.

“Just like this. Don’t move.”

Good lord, he expected her to stay put, with her butt in the air, and the rest of her angled down? Clearly yes, because now the real torture began. He settled low on the bed, braced himself on his forearms, and used his tongue on her again, sliding in out and around the same territory he’d thoroughly exploited in the living room. But whereas he’d given her a measure of control last time, this time their position left her very much at his mercy.

The abrasion of his whiskers awakened a whole new set of nerve endings from this direction, as did the open-mouthed kisses he pressed to all her freshly shaved flesh. Nothing escaped his reach. His tongue teased her clit, her folds, ultimately easing into her channel to stretch her anew from behind. She grabbed fistfuls of comforter and held on.

The room filled with the thick, wet sound of his mouth working its magic. If he kept this up, it seemed likely she’d wasted twenty-five bucks on lube they wouldn’t need—not that she was complaining. No, she was breathing heavy, and moaning a little, but complaints? Not a one.

Eventually, though, the slide of his mouth, the thrust of his tongue, and her spread-eagled pose only intensified the empty ache insider her. “I’m ready. Hunter? Please, I’m ready. Really, really ready.”

Despite her urgency, he took his time disengaging. She did her best to be patient while he reversed course—until she realized where he intended to trail his tongue next. She pushed up onto her arms and wriggled out of his grasp.

“Hey,” he grumbled, “I own your pretty little ass, remember?”

“I’m taking it back.”

“I thought you said you were ready?”

She glanced over her shoulder and caught his challenging grin.

“Not for
that
.”

He shifted around until he was propped against the pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands behind his head, his crunching abs providing a rugged backdrop for his imposing erection. This long, rangy, absolutely unrepentant tribute to masculinity stared at her with dazzling blue eyes. “What are you ready for, baby?”

His low drawl served as a whole new seduction. Her insides quivered. She crawled up his body, her arms bracketing his crossed ankles, his sculpted, hair-dusted shins and strong, muscular thighs. She stopped when she straddled his lap. He ran his hands up her thighs and under the hem of her shirt to rest at her hips. “According to my doctor, I’m ready for something called controlled penetration. It’s when—oh…”

He settled her on his lap, nestled his thick ridge against her soft parts, and drew his knees up behind her. She leaned back against his thighs, which brought her pelvis forward and pushed their lower bodies into deeper, hotter contact. He tugged the neckline of her T-shirt down to expose her breast and cupped it in his callused palm. His eyelids drifted down. He pulled in a slow breath through his nose. “I know what it is. I’ve been reading up.”

And now the place between her legs wasn’t the only part of her melting. The knowledge he cared enough to research how to make this good for her left a warm, soft spot dangerously close to her heart.

She tightened and relaxed her muscles, simultaneously rocking herself against him and hugging that hard curve lodged between the folds of her sex. His jaw clenched, and his hands grew slightly rougher with her breasts, but he let her keep at it for a bit. Finally, he caught her hips and held her still. “You want to ride it, cowgirl?”

“Yee-haw,” she whispered.

He scooted her back until he had access to his equipment. “Get ready to mount up.”

She scrambled for the box of condoms, tore it open, and pulled out one foil wrapped square.

“Hold up there, quick-draw. Don’t forget to take care of your animal.”

She paused in the act of tearing the foil. “I thought I was.”

He plucked the condom from her fingers, dropped it on the nightstand, and picked up the Liquid Silk. “Hold out your hand.”

When she did, he pumped a dime-sized pearl into her palm. The container went back on the nightstand and then he gripped the base of his erection, manhandled it until it pointed straight up, and guided her hand down until she could curl her palm around the smooth, wide head. She massaged her lube-slicked hand over him. The back of his skull thunked against the headboard.

For half a minute he let her lube him up. Then he raised his head and sent her the kind of slow, sexy smile that made her insides quiver. He pumped a generous amount of lube into his hand, coating his palm and fingers. When their eyes reconnected, he said, “You take care of your stallion, your stallion will take care of you.”

Then he slid his hand between her legs, and slipped a finger insider her. He had her so ready—beyond ready—the minor invasion only tapped into a deeper well of need. She leaned forward, which pressed her clit solidly into his hand, clamped her hands around his head, and pulled his mouth to hers. Their tongues tangled, and their breath mingled. All the while he cautiously worked his finger deeper.

The caution was driving her out of her mind. “You,” she sighed into his mouth. “I can’t wait anymore. I need you inside me.”

“Another finger. Jesus, baby, we’re just getting started. We’re going to take this slow. Slow and easy.”

Right now she wanted fast and reckless. She wanted heat and friction, pain and pleasure, and every mind-blowing sensation in between. When he nudged the second finger into her, she bore down. Hard. Then inhaled sharply as her body reluctantly stretched to accommodate.

“Damn it, Madison. What part of ‘take it slow’ do you not understand? Don’t make me bend you over this bed and fuck you with my fingers until I’m satisfied you can behave.”

He’d do it, too. He was bigger, stronger, and his propensity to control the situation made him strict about doing things his way. And while the notion of being on the receiving end of his threat sent a spiral of scalding need straight to her center, her version of this moment involved his powerful body under her—lifting, flexing—preferably rising up to meet her as they chased release. This was her turn to set the pace, dammit. Her chance to decide for herself what she was ready for. And she felt more than up to the job.

“Hunter, I’m a grown woman, I’m nowhere near as fragile as you seem to think, and I’m following my doctor’s advice. I know what I can handle.” So saying, she took the condom off the nightstand and rolled it on him while he sucked in a breath. “And I know what I expect from you. The only question I have left is this—are you going to give me the ride you promised, or are you going to turn yourself into a cautious little pony for the sake of your over-protective instincts?”

He stared at her for a moment, and she worried she’d pushed him too far. The ‘bent over the bed’ scenario he’d threatened started to look inevitable.

Instead, to her surprise, he leaned back again, re-folded his arms behind his head, and said, “Do your worst.”

Those three words, delivered in his resigned tone, were all the incentive she needed. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection and then inched her hips forward until she’d lined them up.

“Wait.” Hunter pumped lube liberally over the outside of the condom then spread it all over the latex with his fist. “Okay. Now, go ahead.”

Eyes locked on his, she slowly lowered her hips. Midway down she began to feel some strain as her body resisted. She leaned forward, putting her weight on her knees, and reached behind her to grip him again. His pupils expanded, and his nostrils flared, but he kept still. The new angle forced him a little deeper.
Forced
being the operative word. She did her best to keep her expression neutral, because she feared the tiniest show of discomfort would freak him out and result in an early, unsatisfying end to this adventure.

Keep going
. She needed to. She wanted to. But a tight, pinching pain resulted when she flexed her hips.

Okay, just get it done
. But the next thing she knew, Hunter pumped more lube into his hand and reached behind her to deliver a positively heavenly massage to her sore, stretched flesh. His other hand clasped the back of her head and brought her mouth down to his. She braced her hands on either side of his chest and balanced there while he toyed with her lips, using his tongue to mimic the movement of his fingers down below.

When her wet lips tingled and throbbed in time with the other wet, tingling part of her, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Hunter between her lips. Hunter between her legs. The competing sensations sent shivers up and down her spine. And in that moment, she realized he wasn’t going to pull back and try to satisfy her with alternative measures. He’d committed to giving her what she wanted, and as long as she was game to go for it, he’d find a way to make it happen.

Gratitude mixed with the passion, blending into an unstable concoction that had to spill out somehow. She speared her fingers into his hair and kissed him fiercely. He absorbed the onslaught, smoothing a hand along her cheek while he probed deeper with his tongue, drew back, and then repeated the move. A suggestion of tactics.

She rocked her hips. Between the lube and his ministrations, her body relaxed and took him deeper. Keeping their mouths fused, he eased them lower until he reclined against the headboard again. The move forced her into a steeper bend. He got a two-handed grip on her butt, spread her wide, and broke the kiss to look into her eyes.

“Baby, we got this. Take me home.”

She did. She took a slow slide down, until his balls pillowed her butt. He was big. Huge, really—the stallion metaphor suited him to a T—but after all the foreplay and patience, her body finally accepted every inch.

She shifted around a little to confirm she had him inside her as deep as humanly possible, and his rumbling groan sent a quick thrill of power through her. Leaning forward, she raised her hips, circled them, and then slowly descended again, taking extra time as she seated herself.

His fingers dug into her skin. “Fuck me, Madison. You keep hugging my balls in your tight little ass, this is going to be a short ride.”

“How about this?” She leaned back against his legs and tried a tentative thrust, just to see how it felt. Holy moly, it felt like something she needed to do often—if not constantly—but his strong hands were already lifting her up his length.

“Again. I gotta have that again.”

She pressed her breasts into his chest and raised her hips as high as she could, hung there, quivering with anticipation of the slide, the friction, and the flesh-slapping landing.

He must have read those urges in her eyes, because he buried his face against the side of her throat, and whispered, “Do it, girl. Ride me. Go!” He smacked her butt, and she was off to the races, working herself up and down on his shaft, finishing each circuit with a purely selfish grind.

Sensations ricocheted through her system. Tantalizing hints of what was in store for her, and his steady stream of encouragement—
Fuck me. Use me. Come for me
—only hastened the journey. Sweat slicked her skin and soaked her shirt. Hunter’s hair grew damp at the temples, and beads of perspiration formed in the diamond-shaped valley between his chest and abs.

“Get rid of this. Now.”

“What?” She panted. “Get rid of wha—”

Without warning, he sat up and swept her shirt off. Before she could form a word of protest, he splayed his hand over her abdomen. “No more hiding. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful you take my breath away, and when I’m inside you, I don’t want anything between us.”

Some last shred of resistance, self-preservation…whatever it was…crumbled, and there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it. He banded his arm around her waist and wedged her into the snug saddle formed by his legs, lap, and chest. Then he bounced her there, fast and just hard enough to cause shocks of pleasure with every impact.

A rushing noise filled her ears. Her vision blurred. Heat burned through her like a lit match through a stream of lighter fluid, and every cell in her body ignited. She shattered into a thousand shimmering particles of energy, and she knew with utter certainty, even if those particles reassembled into an exact replica of Madison Foley, she would never truly be the same again.