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His whole world exploded as her mouth slid warmly against his. He hadn’t been expecting this: the lush heat of her skimming and rocking his lips open, cajoling him, wanting him to kiss her as eagerly in return as she was kissing him. All his walls dissolved in an instant and he slid his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him, the walker standing as one last barrier between them. Mace sank into the welcome heat of her mouth, her soft curves bending against the wedges of his hard, unforgiving male body.
His nostrils flared as he took in the faint scent of oranges in her sleek, silky hair brushing against his jaw and temple. Mace was surprised by Sierra’s boldness as she opened her mouth more, her tongue slowly moving across his lower lip. Groaning, his arm automatically tightened around her. And all he heard was her sigh of satisfaction as she teased his tongue in return. His whole lower body roared to life and a throbbing ache gripped his hard erection. She couldn’t press herself against him, the metal walker in the way, but he felt her sinuous heat, anyway. There was nothing but radiant life in his woman he held in his free arm. As her tongue moved more deeply, inviting his to meet hers, he felt the rapid beat of his heart. There was no way she didn’t know how much he wanted her.
His breath was rough and ragged as he slid his hand up her spine, gripping her around the back of her neck, adjusting her mouth to his so they fit even better together. He wished like hell he had two hands free, but he had to lean against the walker, keep his balance, keep most of his weight off his injured, throbbing foot. He heard a soft, vibrating sound in Sierra’s throat as she kissed him deeply. She wanted him as bad as he wanted her. Mace cursed his wound because, under any other circumstance, he’d have picked Sierra up, taken her to his bed and stripped her of her clothes and they’d have become as one with all the urgency of two animals ensnared in mating heat.
Her long, slender fingers framed his face, moving across his scalp, feeling him, memorizing him. Her hands were restless, touching him, his flesh heating wherever they skimmed his neck and shoulders. And then, when her hand drifted down the side of his ribs, caressing his hip and moving provocatively against his erection, Mace gave a low warning growl. His body grew hot and hungry. He was losing his control beneath her soft, curious exploration of him. The sounds she made told him how pleased she was with him, regardless of his wound. Regardless of how hampered he was right now. There was nothing wrong with him sexually, that was for damn sure. Sierra’s heat could resurrect a rock. Her fingers tantalized his erection, teasing him. She was silently asking him to take her, love her. Right now. And how Mace wanted it even more. He could only explore her with his one free hand, and it frustrated the hell out of him. The walker remained a wall between them. He wanted to experience her sinuous movements, that soft sway of her hips against his, inflaming him to a point where he was damn near mindless. As her hand slid across the nape of his neck, she nipped his lower lip, opening her eyes, a hungry gleam in them.
“I’m going to love you, Mace,” she whispered, her voice low and smoky. And she tilted her head, studying him, strong and unwavering in her request.
He was too far gone. Wanting Sierra for too long. Giving a jerky nod, he released her.
“My bedroom,” she urged him softly, stepping aside. “I’ve been dreaming of loving you on my beautiful velvet patchwork quilt for so long…”
CHAPTER 20
Mace had alwaysbeen the alpha male when it came to sex, but now he felt he may just become the weaker participant. As Sierra guided him into her room, he was taken by the dreamy quality of it. He was aching for her, having had still but a bare taste of her, and now she was guiding him to sit on the bed, kneeling down, removing his sneaker and pulling off the sock under it. Her black hair glinted with reddish highlights under the muted western light pouring into her bedroom. Mesmerized by the gracefulness of her fingers as she untied the laces, Mace felt his whole body ratchet up one more painful knot for her. How long had he dreamed of being with Sierra? Feeling her warmth? Her arms holding him, her body moving in sync with him? He swallowed hard, seeing so much.
He slid his hands beneath her jaw, lifting it so their eyes met. He saw arousal in them, and it spurred his appetite for her even more. There was a fearlessness in them, the look of a woman clearly wanting her man and not taking no for an answer. And yet, Mace didn’t feel weaker than she was. For the first time in his life, he realized he was meeting a woman who was fully his equal in every possible way. And Sierra was furlongs ahead of him when it came to being emotionally courageous. To be risky enough to love him despite the nothingness he’d given back. He dug into her wide, lustrous eyes. “Are you SURE, Sierra?” He watched her lips lift into a smile.
“Never more so, Mace.” she slid her hands across his knees, searching his face, his eyes.
His throat tightened. “I can’t offer you anything, Sierra. You know that.”
As she shrugged, her fingers busy with the snap of his jeans, then pulling down his zipper she said, “I’ll take whatever you’ll give me Mace.” She stood, reaching out, caressing his hair. “I don’t have any condoms around here. It’s been almost two years so I’m a little rusty. And in case you want to know, I’m disease-free.”
Such courage. She stood there like the warrior queen she was. Mace held her confident gaze, drowning in the fire he saw in her eyes, that arousal dissolving any hesitation. “No condom either,” he admitted. “No diseases. I’ve always used a condom in the past. What time of the month are you?” Because Mace sure as hell didn’t want to get her pregnant. He found himself holding his breath, wanting to love her even if the timing might be off. He felt shaken by her like he never had been before. Her hips were wide, her belly softly rounded. She could carry a baby no problem at all. And Sierra would be one hell of a mother, a natural, able to give her love openly and freely, unequivocally. The look in her eyes grew amused.
“I guess neither one of us were prepared to make love. I just finished my period last week, so I’m in the clear.”
Before he could say anything else, she leaned over, slid her fingers beneath the edges of his t-shirt, drawing it over his arms and head. She dropped it over the rocker that sat at the end of the king-sized bed. Stepping back, she pushed her shoes off with her heels and shimmied out of her jeans and top. All of them went on the rocker. Smiling, she said, “I’m not a very shy person, Mace, as you can tell.”
Hell, it was a great view. He sat stunned, drinking in the smooth, curving lines of her strong, fit body. She still had on only a plain white cotton bra and a set of slender briefs that only enhanced her pretty belly and those goddamn fetching hips, making him itch to slide his hands around them, draw her into him. “Help me get out of my jeans?” he rasped.
Holding out her hand, Sierra helped him stand. He leaned on her shoulder to steady himself as she quickly and carefully pulled off his soft boot and then his jeans one leg at a time. He had to concentrate on his balance hard as she did so, kneeling in front of him, the view down her cleavage making his legs clumsy as he tottered with each gentle movement. Mace had been right: she had small, beautiful breasts, the kind a man could hold in just the palms of his hands, feel their weight, feel their heat and promise. Finally getting his jeans off, she smiled up at him and stood.
“Boxers have to go.”
“I’ve always undressed the woman first,” he griped, standing, absorbing the joy in her face. She wanted to love him as much as he wanted to love her. Nothing had ever felt so right to Mace as this one single moment with Sierra.
“You’re a man who resists changes, Mace,” she murmured, sliding her fingers around within the elastic band of his boxers, moving them provocatively, watching his face change, watching it grow tight with lust. Very slowly, she slid them down, pleased with how strong his erection was. Lifting the material away from it, she added, “Change is a good thing. Don’t you think?” and she pulled his boxers off, rising, her fingers trailing lightly up the insides of his legs, up to his thighs as she stood. And when her fingers wrapped warmly around him, Mace groaned, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly, his eyes squinching shut.
“I’ll explode,” he rasped. “I’m close, Sierra. I don’t want to come yet. I want to please you, too.”
She released him and urged him to sit down on the bed. “We’ll please one another. I’m not keeping count on who’s first or second,” she said huskily, moving him so that his legs were on her bed. Getting two pillows, Sierra placed one beneath his knee and another beneath the heel of his injured foot. “Now,” she said firmly, straightening, her hands on her hips, giving him a dark look, “you CANNOT be squirming and moving around. You need to keep that foot rested and you can’t be using your legs or hips in any way.” He tapped his shoulder smartly. “You’re on your back for this round. Okay?”
He grinned. “Helluva position to be in. Reverse missionary.”
“Yeah, well, get over it, Kilmer,” and she pulled off her bra, revealing her breasts.
He damn near swallowed his tongue, more than ready to lay on his back and be pleasured by this woman with that hunter’s gleam in her eyes. When Sierra pulled off her panties and stood naked before him, absolutely unapologetic, he grinned. “You’re a woman on a mission.”
Sierra knelt carefully bringing her leg across his hips, settling carefully upon his erection, always aware of his injured foot. She saw his eyes shutter closed, a groan emitting from him. Spreading her hands, she laid them on his slab-hard belly, slowly sliding them upward, holding his narrowing gaze. “I’m Cherokee, Kilmer. In our matriarchal society, women are equals. I’m your equal. And I’ll bet,” she whispered, peering down a satisfied look, “you’ve never made love with a woman who was.”
She got that right, but Mace relaxed, closing his eyes, his mind imprinting the aching pleasure of the feel of her cool, long fingers gliding cross his stomach, memorizing him slowly. Her fingers raked through the dark hair across his chest. His hands reached out, under their own volition, as she stretched across him, her breasts so close. He had to feel her. As he stroked his hands down from her shoulders and his fingers followed the curves of her breasts, he heard the swift intake of her breath. And as he cupped both of them within his palms, he felt like a man who had died and gone to Nirvana. Sierra might be the aggressor here, but he was no wimp either when it came to knowing how to bring a woman to her knees with sheer physical pleasure. As he moved his thumbs languidly across her nipples, he heard a moan vibrate in her throat, her hands stilling upon his broad chest, her entire body freezing for moment. Opening his eyes, he saw her own closed, her lips slightly parted, gratification in her face. Yeah, she liked that. And she was exquisitely sensitive he was discovering as he pulled her forward, leaning up, capturing one of those pleading nipples and drawing it into the heat of his mouth.
Sierra cried out softly. Her fingers dug spasmodically into his broad shoulders as he suckled her. Her breath suddenly grew ragged as he teased the other nipple between his thumb and index finger. She quivered almost violently, and he would bet his life she was sopping wet between her thighs. Hungry to shove the both of them together, he was no longer the weakling he’d been a week ago. He had his full strength back. He released that beautiful, hard nipple and guided her firmly down beside him. And then Mace turned the tables on Sierra, smiling down into her eyes, seeing them become druzy with heavy arousal.
“You’re mine, Sweetheart,” he growled, sliding his calloused hand downward, following the delicious curve of her belly, his fingers moving between her thighs, urging her open. “I want to see how wet you are…,” and he eased his fingers down between her moist folds. Instantly, she moaned with pleasure, her hips lifting automatically. Mace smiled up at her, his fingers moving slowly inside her, watching her face, watching the hunger spring to life in her eyes. Oh, no question, she was as much a sexual hunter as he was, and that discovery pleased him. She was honey-sweet, the fluids thick, and he eased one finger more deeply into her, testing her. A low, keening sound tore from her as she arched into him, begging for more. No question, she was his equal. He liked her responsiveness. There were no inhibitions. Laying on his side, he had full, unfettered access to her lush, sinuous body. She was so damn tight. She was right: she hadn’t had sex in a long time. And Mace knew he wasn’t average size. He had to be careful not to hurt her. He had to keep his lust reigned in because right now, he wanted to do nothing less than plunge hard into her depths and take her rough and wild. But that would have to wait. As he eased his fingers out and began to stroke that swollen knot so close to her entrance with them instead, she moved restlessly, her fingernails digging into his arms, nearly sobbing. Yeah, she was hot and she was so close.
