Read Online Comes Now the Wicked Woodsman by Christa Wick - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christa Wick
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It's in the way you look at me, your tone of voice, the way you've handed anything to do with me off to someone else for the last five years--"
He cut me off with a snarl and another rough squeeze to my mound.
"If you really think that," he rasped, finally sliding one of his fingers between my labia to break the wet seal of my pussy, "you must be one hell of a masochist to be this ready for my cock."
How could I respond to his accusation? How could I tell Braeden I'd fallen in love with him long before he fell in hate with me? That wanting him was a habit I couldn't break?
Limp with defeat, I sagged against him.
"Heartless bastard," I whispered as Braeden lifted me off my feet, my body half slung over his shoulder as he carried me out of the stall and deeper into the barn, the animals quiet despite all our arguing.
"You're absolutely right, baby girl," he said, laying me on a fresh pile of straw and covering my body with his. Dipping his head, he glossed his lips along my neck before planting a kiss at the hollow below my ear.
"I lost my heart a long time ago."
I hated Braeden Hughes right then. Only, my body didn't care. My body ached with need.
His hands worked to soothe the ache. He stripped my coat off and placed it beneath me. My boots and jeans came off next, my hands clutching uncertainly at his shoulders as he removed the clothing.
I wanted control, but I didn't know if I wanted it over my own body or his.
"Tears aren't going to stop me," he warned, pausing for a few seconds in undressing me to cover my shaking body once more. "Tell me you don't want me in you."
Smoothing a hand between us, he parted my labia again, his fingers rubbing between their slick folds. "Say it's not me you're wet for."
The more he talked and touched, the harder I shook.
"I didn't think so," he murmured, surfing down my body to my bare lower half.
Face between my parted thighs, he inhaled deeply. "Just you baby, just the smell of your sweet pussy filling my senses."
Damn, he was slaying me, the catch in his voice making my imagination run wild. At last I was glad we were in the dark where I couldn't see him, even if he could see me. It had been his hard stares, gruff tones and pulling away that had bloodied my heart the last five years.
In the dark, all I had to judge by was his touch and scratchy voice.
Right then, both were telling me he was aroused. I didn't care why, was too far gone from his touch to remember my objections.
My hips lifted as his nose skimmed the fur of my sex. His beard roughly tickled my thighs. I jerked with fresh need at the sensation it produced. I moaned, pushed higher. His hands slid along my legs. Reaching my thighs, he pressed them further apart, splaying my pussy open. His mouth moved lower, covering what he had just exposed with his firm, pouty lips and warm tongue.
Groaning need bubbled in my throat. I wrapped my hands around his head, the hair too short to fist. My thighs pressed inward. He stopped holding them open, freeing his fingers to tease the hole his tongue had been busy exploring.
Jerking with need, I let go of his head and wrapped my arms around my chest, hugging myself tight to keep from screaming out his name or how I wanted his cock in me, fucking me, filling me with his come as I contracted around him, my own release raging through me.
"First this," he murmured, licking a hard line up my clit as if he'd been reading my mind. Pushing two thick fingers into my clutching pussy, he growled his next warning. "Then this."
Yeah, I thought, forcing myself to take a deep breath. I was good with that plan. Exhaling, I reached down and smoothed one palm against the crown of his head as my other hand reached up and fisted my own hair. His tongue repeated the line he had just stroked, freeing the whimper stuck in my throat.
His fingers retreated from my pussy then slid back in, three thick and twisting. I started to quake. This was exactly what it was supposed to feel like, this
He cut me off with a snarl and another rough squeeze to my mound.
"If you really think that," he rasped, finally sliding one of his fingers between my labia to break the wet seal of my pussy, "you must be one hell of a masochist to be this ready for my cock."
How could I respond to his accusation? How could I tell Braeden I'd fallen in love with him long before he fell in hate with me? That wanting him was a habit I couldn't break?
Limp with defeat, I sagged against him.
"Heartless bastard," I whispered as Braeden lifted me off my feet, my body half slung over his shoulder as he carried me out of the stall and deeper into the barn, the animals quiet despite all our arguing.
"You're absolutely right, baby girl," he said, laying me on a fresh pile of straw and covering my body with his. Dipping his head, he glossed his lips along my neck before planting a kiss at the hollow below my ear.
"I lost my heart a long time ago."
I hated Braeden Hughes right then. Only, my body didn't care. My body ached with need.
His hands worked to soothe the ache. He stripped my coat off and placed it beneath me. My boots and jeans came off next, my hands clutching uncertainly at his shoulders as he removed the clothing.
I wanted control, but I didn't know if I wanted it over my own body or his.
"Tears aren't going to stop me," he warned, pausing for a few seconds in undressing me to cover my shaking body once more. "Tell me you don't want me in you."
Smoothing a hand between us, he parted my labia again, his fingers rubbing between their slick folds. "Say it's not me you're wet for."
The more he talked and touched, the harder I shook.
"I didn't think so," he murmured, surfing down my body to my bare lower half.
Face between my parted thighs, he inhaled deeply. "Just you baby, just the smell of your sweet pussy filling my senses."
Damn, he was slaying me, the catch in his voice making my imagination run wild. At last I was glad we were in the dark where I couldn't see him, even if he could see me. It had been his hard stares, gruff tones and pulling away that had bloodied my heart the last five years.
In the dark, all I had to judge by was his touch and scratchy voice.
Right then, both were telling me he was aroused. I didn't care why, was too far gone from his touch to remember my objections.
My hips lifted as his nose skimmed the fur of my sex. His beard roughly tickled my thighs. I jerked with fresh need at the sensation it produced. I moaned, pushed higher. His hands slid along my legs. Reaching my thighs, he pressed them further apart, splaying my pussy open. His mouth moved lower, covering what he had just exposed with his firm, pouty lips and warm tongue.
Groaning need bubbled in my throat. I wrapped my hands around his head, the hair too short to fist. My thighs pressed inward. He stopped holding them open, freeing his fingers to tease the hole his tongue had been busy exploring.
Jerking with need, I let go of his head and wrapped my arms around my chest, hugging myself tight to keep from screaming out his name or how I wanted his cock in me, fucking me, filling me with his come as I contracted around him, my own release raging through me.
"First this," he murmured, licking a hard line up my clit as if he'd been reading my mind. Pushing two thick fingers into my clutching pussy, he growled his next warning. "Then this."
Yeah, I thought, forcing myself to take a deep breath. I was good with that plan. Exhaling, I reached down and smoothed one palm against the crown of his head as my other hand reached up and fisted my own hair. His tongue repeated the line he had just stroked, freeing the whimper stuck in my throat.
His fingers retreated from my pussy then slid back in, three thick and twisting. I started to quake. This was exactly what it was supposed to feel like, this
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