Silver Bound – Jody Wallace
Author Links : Website | Twitter
Buy Links : Amazon $2.38
She sighed. “Then again, if we felt that we had nothing to lose, wouldn’t you spend your last days on holiday?”
“I don’t feel that way.” He had everything to lose, and she was standing right in front of him, sweating lightly, her white shirt tied at her waist, her hair floating around her head like a cloud, and her sensible boots covered with red dust.
“But if you did. What would you do?” She tossed him the amulet and took a drink of water from her canteen. They had relocated to her brother’s domicile to save money, gain privacy, and stock up on supplies. Apparently her brother was a bit of a hoarder, though Nadia said he called himself a prepper. “I thought I had a whole life of freedom ahead of me. I had such a to-do list. Now there’s no hope of checking most of it off.”
“What was on it?”
She reached out and traced a finger down his jaw. Due to the hectic nature of the past three days, he’d been unable to attend his toilette as usual. Her short fingernail rasped on his stubble. “Can you guess a few of the things, Barnabas?”
That was all it took. His ardor quickly outpaced his common sense. “There are, perhaps, a few new things on my list as well.”
She closed the distance between them until her body heat scorched him more than the sun. She caressed his throat as he swallowed, hard, and then flicked open the top button of his shirt. “Do they involve me?”
But his common sense wasn’t defeated yet. He caught her hand before she could free more than two buttons. “Do you mean to torment me or seduce me, my dear?”
“They’re both on my list,” she said. “A twofer.”
“We have not finished our survey of the barrier and—”
“Which makes this a very illogical choice of activity.” She pulled his face down to hers and practically growled. “I want to have sex outside the bedroom. I want to be with you, right here, right now.”
His body was willing. His brain was not. Well. His brain was waffling on the matter as Nadia’s soft belly pressed against his cock. “We have an audience.”
The vehicle operated by the gnomes was a sturdy one, but it was not currently visible. Their task today had included quite a bit of hiking. The barrier had not been placed in any special proximity to roads or human conveniences.
“Exhibitionism isn’t on my list,” she said, “but I’m not sure I care.” She unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, tugging it free of his trousers. Her hands skated across his chest.
“We’ll get sand in all our crevices.”
She cupped his cock. “We’ll take a bath later.”
“It will hurt your crevices more than mine,” he pointed out, but when she undid he belt, he was lost in her touch.
“Nadia,” he groaned and bent his head to her lips.
He could not resist this woman. Though it was dreadfully hot, he swooped her up and kissed her desperately, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Passion and sweat threatened to glue them permanently together or give them heatstroke.
She managed his zipper while kissing him, and his loose trousers dropped to his ankles. Her fingers on his cock were a miracle.
She was a miracle.
Though cocks were somewhat new to her, she pumped him firmly, coaxing him to greater heights and hardness. Kissing, sighing, whispering, he fumbled at her clothing as she worked him. His back hit a smooth boulder, and he twitched his exposed bum out of the way of the cactus. No reason to add real blood to the scenery.
“I want to taste you like you did me,” she said, sliding down his body. “I want you in my mouth.”
Her shirt open, her brassiere unclasped, her small, pale breasts rubbed his cock, and his pulse raced at the beautiful sight. She nestled her knees on his pants, trapping him. To his disappointment, her pale hair fell forward and concealed her face when her lowered her mouth to lick him.
Her tongue branded him as hers. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else, ever again.
“Salty,” she informed him. She drew him into her hot mouth, and his head smacked against the rock as he tried not to come in her face in an ungentlemanly fashion.
“Nadia.” All he could say was her name. She answered him with teeth and tongue, suction and wetness. She tried to swallow all of him down, so he placed his hands on her soft hair. Then he managed another word. “Stop.”
“It’s on my list,” she said, her breath on his wet cock. “You’ll just have to put up with it.”
Record of Wrongs : Sharon Kay
Author Links : Website | Twitter
Buy Links : Amazon £5.38/£4.09
“You don’t wanna get undressed by the water?” Rosie’s voice husked, driving his lust as she hooked her thumbs under the straps at her hips.
“We’re not gonna make it to the water, babe.” He yanked his T-shirt over his head as she shimmed out of that thong.
God, she was beautiful. Did she even know how much? He vowed to savor her later. For now, his lust was wildly out of control. She pushed too far. And if this was her idea of teasing, taunting, pushing—she could do it every damn night. He’d be on board.
He threaded one hand to her nape and pushed her back to the warm steel of his truck. With a firm grip on her hair, he kissed her.
He devoured her mouth. Her body was hot against his and her hands roamed his shoulders, his back, like she couldn’t get enough. He dragged his free hand up her hip on a slow path to her nipple. He’d observed enough about her already to remember how sensitive she was there.
She shivered, though the night was still fucking humid. He stopped at the lower curve of her breast.
“Cruz,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” He didn’t move his hand. Instead he sucked at the spot where her shoulder met her neck.
“I…touch me,” she murmured like she could barely get the words out. “Please.”
He raised his hand slowly, skimming his palm over her tip.
She gasped. “God, yes.”
He repeated it on the other side. She was panting now. He pulled back to just look at her, so out of control. He’d take a mental snapshot and remember this for a long time. His sexy country girl, about to lose her mind. About to let him fuck her up against his truck in the middle of the damn woods.
Abruptly he dropped his hand to the vee of her thighs. A moan tore from her throat. He slid his fingers lower, finding the slick evidence of her readiness for him. “So fucking wet,” he murmured, stroking her body back and forth. “You’re ready for me.”
“Yes,” she said, though he hadn’t asked a question.
He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Holding it in his teeth, he made quick work of his belt and zipper.
She stared at his erection pushing against his boxer briefs. She flicked her eyes to his, then dragged her hands down his sides. She gripped the top edge of his underwear in her slender fingers, and tugged down. Inch by sensual inch. She gazed at him as if she were opening a present. The top of his shaft was exposed and she traced a finger along where it met his groin.
“One day Cruz, this won’t be my finger.” A stroke, light as air but heavy with promise. A rumble built in his throat. She was playing with fire. “It’ll be my mouth.”
His vision hazed and he freed his aching cock. Who would have ever thought sweet Rosie would be the queen of dirty talk? He couldn’t even wrap his head around all the nuances of her. He fell in deeper every time they came together.
He tore open the condom and rolled it on. Setting his hands on her hips, he lifted her up and leveraged her against the truck. She clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.
His cock bumped her heated flesh, making them both groan. “Rosie,” he growled, and positioned himself at her entrance. With aching slowness he slid her down.
She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “Feels so good, baby.”
And why did her calling him baby feel so damn right? Hell.
He pushed up until he was balls deep in her sweetness. Nothing had felt this good, this wild before. He needed more, needed her, all of her, like he needed to breathe. He withdrew almost all the way and then sank deep again with a hard thrust.
Her body slammed against his truck. But she held his shoulders and scratched along his neck, tracing a path into his hair.
He plunged out and in again. Her breasts bounced, and he knew she’d get hotter if he played with them. With one hand under her ass, he brought the other up to tug one taut tip. Her lips parted on a soft sigh.
He couldn’t stop his rhythm if he wanted to. Her pussy milked him, every part of her squeezing him in a sultry heat. And her face—god, what had she said about not having a poker face? A myriad of expressions crossed her face: lust, surprise, need, delight.
Glancing down to their connection, he was fascinated by how her body took all of him. She maintained her hold on his shoulders and worked her hips, her face a mix of concentration and sex glow.
He dropped his hand to her mound, inching lower. She gasped, but her jaw dropped. “God, Cruz,” she moaned.
His fingers slinked lower, getting slick between her legs. He stroked her clit as he thrust inside her. Tiny sweet moans fell from her lips and she moved with him, rocking, pushing down on him. “I’m close,” she whispered around thrusts.
“Me too, babe. Hang on.” He gripped her ass tightly and unleashed the reins of his lust, pumping as hard and fast as he could. Every stroke only intensified the sensation, bringing him closer to orgasm. And at the same time the knowledge lurked that this was different. She was different.
She gasped and her body quivered as she came, legs trembling and hips grinding. Clutching his neck, she leaned in to bite his shoulder.
Fuck. No one had ever bitten his shoulder.
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