“Good. Let me go put together lunch for us,” he urges, his big hands at my hips lifting me away from him.
Protesting with a pouting sound, I push at him, forcing him to laugh and lie back down. Shepard called the doc up here but once he was here, he seemed to regret it. He watched every poke and prod, every time he put his hands on me, and when he was finished, he ushered him out, thanking him with a growling grunt.
Once he was gone, he tore the clothes he had put me in off and laid me out by the fireplace. With a possessive fire in his eyes, he spent some time between my legs, eating me as if I were his last meal. When I was wrung out from orgasms, he knelt between my thighs, jerking himself until he came on my swollen sex, my stomach, and my tits. He said he had to mark me somehow after I had another man touching me.
We took a shower together and I all but threw myself at him, but he refused. He swore he would not take more from me until I was healed but I want to give him more. I want to give him everything.
Babies and binding that will last forever.
After tending to my injuries again, we came out here to watch the rain as it continues to pour down from the gray skies. I refused to let him put clothes back on either of us. I like being bare against him, feeling his warmth cocoon me in safety and hearing his heart thunder in rhythm with mine.
“Not hungry,” I argue, rubbing my cheek against his chest as I trace more tattoos that spread up his shoulder and down his chest, “at least not for food,” I add softly, smirking when he smacks my ass gently.
“You need to behave, babydoll. Denying you the thing I want most is hard for me,” he chastises me.
Yeah, I can feel how hard it is for him. I wiggle against that hardness, grinning in satisfaction when his thickness jerk against my belly, like a heat seeking missile knowing where it belongs. Inside of me. Never in my life have I been so turned on by someone and I am so glad I waited for it to feel this way.
“Tell me about the photos you take, baby,” he suggests, his big hands kneading my backside to let me rub against him playfully, “I want to be able to see them in my head.”
God, I am so lucky I was betrayed. What a blessing that turned out to be. Who could want anything less than a man like this? I dated a man for almost two years and felt almost nothing but obligation. I met this man less than twenty-four hours ago and he makes me feel adored and cherished. Beautiful and sexy, and so excited about what else I can feel with him, I can’t wait to get to the next sensation.
“Not pretty ones,” I admit on a sigh, closing my eyes, “I spent a few weeks in the Sudan this past summer. And last spring, I spent a month in the Ukraine. I don’t need to see those photos again to remember every shot I took. Desperation. Despair. Pain and panic. Ugliness caught on camera,” I explain as his arms tighten around me, as if he can protect me from all the things I have already seen.
“Can I see them? I brought your things in and put them in the bedroom. I would not look at them without you approving it,” he insists, his hands smoothing over my skin soothingly.
“Yeah, I would love you to see them. I figured I might take some photos up here. I wanted to....no. Never mind, it’s kind of stupid.”
When I had talked to anyone at the small paper I had worked for about my idea, they made me feel it was a stupid waste of time. This idea of mine hit me almost a year ago when I started to feel disconnected to the life I was leading. I stopped caring about my work, about the city I thought I had loved, and the man I was due to marry. Now I know I was heading towards a life I knew I wouldn’t want to live.
“Babydoll, I might have met you last night, but you are bright, beautiful, and I am sure brilliant. You had a terrible accident after a terrible betrayal and still you knew what to do after, you tried to make me laugh when I was the one who should have been looking after you. Tell me your idea. I want to know and if you want, I would love to help you get it done.”
Pushing up to straddle him, I ignore how his eyes skim over my nakedness. I mean, I love how his eyes flare and how his arousal pulses between my thighs. But more about that later. Right now, I am staring down at him, seeing nothing but faith in his dark eyes. God, he is pretty, and now I realize why I keep thinking that.
Shepard is not a conventional kind of pretty. No, not at all. His nose has been broken, his beard is a bit untamed, he has a scar curving like a half moon around his left eye, and frankly he often looks pissed off.
When he looks at me, though, his dark eyes soften, his full mouth parts slightly, and he flashes a beautiful, crooked smile. He sees something in me that makes me feel beautiful, that makes me feel good and wanted. That is why he is so pretty to me—I can see his sweet soul shining.
“Yeah. Yeah, I want to do it up here. I want to do it with you. You would be perfect for it actually,” I declare, running my fingertips up his broad, muscled chest towards his beard, “you are so Boo Radley beautiful,” I exclaim as I gaze down at him.
Blinking at me, he quirks the brow over that scarred eye. I reach out, tracing it in fascination. Every minute he grows more attractive to me. And every single moment I want him more. I ache with it. Not with the dull pain in my head or the tenderness of my broken rib. This ache is all for him.
“Boo Radley beautiful,” he repeats, flashing that smile that makes my stomach summersault, “want to explain to this old lumberjack what that means, babydoll?” his hands slide up my thighs that straddle his hips and he yanks me down, his hips rocking so I can feel him rub against me.
“Ooh. You said to behave. Why do you get to misbehave? It means...well, it means,” I flush as our eyes lock and I rub against his velvety hard shaft, teasingly, “it means fucking beautiful. Curses seem so stupid to me. When I want to express something, I say.... Sherlock Holmes! Or I don’t know...Atticus Finch. A few literary favorites of mine.”
“You are adorable,” he grunts the words, his hands lifting me to adjust my sex over his, both of us moaning as he hits me in all the right places, “when I make you feel good, I know what to expect, huh?” he teases me, watching with hooded eyes as he rocks me backwards, forwards, and back again, rubbing my wet sex all over his hard, thick shaft.
“Oh...oh, yes! Yeah. Unless I go off the cuff. Oh, that feels so good,” I cry out, throwing my head back as his hands spread my ass so he can rock me harder, his hips moving rhythmically.
“That’s good, babydoll. Want my girl to feel good when she rides my cock. That means what, now? Ah fuck, you get so wet for me. That is so fucking hot, baby, that tight little cunt dripping all over my cock. Goddamn.”
“Yes, yes,” I pant, rocking fast, my hands clawing at his chest, “I am so wet. You’re so hard, baby,” I bite my lip, bending close to brush my tits against his chest, “it means I can’t think straight. Curses might happen or it may be movie or music stars instead.”
“Is that right? Good to know. Now, be a good girl and come for me. Soak my cock, babydoll. Come all over me so I can paint that tight little pussy with my cum. You come first, remember?”
“Baby,” I moan, falling against his chest as he rocks me faster and faster on his lap, grinding his big, hard cock up into me. “Please, you told me I had to ask for more. I want more, please,” I bend to press my mouth against his ear, “I want you to come inside me. You want to breed me, you said? Do it, Shepard. Come inside me and fill me with your cum so I can give you babies,” I pant, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
“Ah fuck. Don’t tempt me,” he growls, swatting my ass hard enough to make it sting. “God don’t tempt me baby. I want to put a baby in you so bad. I want to see you soft with my little one in this little belly,” he grunts, sliding his big hand to cover my soft stomach.