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“The pool table scared you?” he asked her roughly. “Damn, Sarah, it’s just a regular pool table. It’s not like there are handcuffs or restraints on it. You act like I was describing a torture chamber.”
He couldn’t get the thought of that out of his head. Sarah bent over, lying against green felt as he lodged every hard inch of his shaft inside her body. He shifted in the normally comfortable seat. He’d be lucky if they made it to the ranch yard, let alone into the house.
“God. This is just not a good idea,” she whispered, staring straight ahead. “Why won’t you just do as I ask? Just drop me at the motel.”
Brock’s hands clenched on the steering wheel as the blood pumping furiously between his thighs made his patience exceeds its fragile limits. Why wouldn’t he do as she asked? Because he had waited so long to fuck her that it felt like a lifetime.
“You want to know why I’m not listening to you?” he bit out from between clenched teeth as he swung the jeep to the side of the road. He pulled in behind an outcropping of boulders with a swerve of the wheel that had her gasping in surprise.
The jeep rocked to a stop as Brock covered the distance between them, shoving her seat back, dropping the back to rest against the back seat, and ignoring her gasp of alarm as he kneed her thighs apart and rose over her.
She stared up at him in shock as he jerked her dress to her waist. His hand covered her mound, his fingers sinking into hot, wet flesh as the other hand hurriedly released the straining erection from inside his jeans.
“This is why, damn you.” He took her hand, wrapping it around the silk encased steel of his cock as he groaned roughly. “This, Sarah. Hot and wild. Me buried inside you while you scream out in pleasure. I told you, I wouldn’t let you go again.”
His fingers plunged deep into her melting vagina, invoking a shattered cry of ecstasy as he filled her. She moaned, a whimpering little sound as his thumb raked her straining clit, making her shudder in his arms as her fingers caressed him. His cock tightened at her small, stroking motions. So untutored, so hesitant, shy as she stared up at him in dazed fascination. It drove him crazy. He wanted to replace that inexperience with knowledge. He wanted to be the one to teach her, the one to replace the hesitancy with confidence and awareness. He wanted to steal her innocence, what little her ex-husband had left her, and it disgusted him at the same time that it made him wild with lust.
She whimpered, a small sound of longing and confusion.
“I’ll take care of you, Sarah,” he swore to her, his fingers moving sensually inside her body as he leaned down to touch her lips. “Trust me. Let me take you to my home. I’ve waited so long for you, love.”
She jerked at his declaration, her thighs clenching on his hands as she fought to draw away from the seductive spell he was weaving around her.
“No.” His lips covered her, his fingers moving deeper, making her hotter, wetter.
He needed to fuck her. To stake his claim on her here and now. To throw her into such pleasure that her climax drained her, left her unable to deny him. Unable to leave him. God help him if he lost her again. He couldn’t risk it, not yet. Not while the fire was burning him alive, making him insane, making his body hurt with the need to touch her, claim her, hear her screams of release echoing around him.
“Feel how good it is, Sarah,” he growled against her lips. “Tell me you want to go to that lonely motel room, rather than my warm bed. Tell me, and I’ll do it, Sarah. Do you want to be empty and alone, or filled and screaming as you come around my cock?”
* * * * *
Sarah stared up at Brock, feeling his fingers hard and thick inside her body, his erection hot and hard in her hand. She couldn’t even circle the broad length with her fingers. How full would he fill her? How hard could he make her scream in climax? The August men were rumored to be experienced, well-tutored lovers who could ride a woman well into the night. Mark had barely managed ten short minutes. She wanted him, but she was terrified of the strength of that wanting.
“Answer me, Sarah.” His fingers thrust lightly into her, her vagina spilling its liquid into his hand as he groaned above her.
“Yes,” she whispered, staring up at him, snared by his eyes, the intense sexual need in his expression. “I want to be filled and screaming. Please, Brock.”
Strangled and tortured, a groan ripped from his throat. His fingers pulled free of her body, but he replaced them with the broad head of his erection. Sarah stilled, her breath nearly suspended in her chest as she felt the burning tip move against her.
“I swore not yet,” he growled fiercely. “I was going to wait, Sarah. I swear I was.”
Sarah felt fire, lightning arching over her skin, between her thighs as the hard flesh began to invade her. Stretched, invaded, she gasped, her hips arching, the incredible sensations spreading through her as Brock slid deeper and deeper inside her body.
“Sarah.” Her name was a harsh groan that sounded torn from his lips. “Damn. You’re so tight. So tight, Sarah.”
His hand tore at the buttons of her dress, several ripping from their mooring as the edges spread. Then his lips were covering one hard-tipped mound, his mouth suckling her heatedly as he pushed the last few inches into her body. She wouldn’t survive it, Sarah thought. There was no way she would survive the lash of heat and need now searing her body.
That Brock August could do this to a woman didn’t surprise her. The fact that he had her beneath him, moaning in pleasure, astounded her though. Her, quiet, mousy Sarah, was making Brock August pant and whisper roughly as he pushed inside her. She tightened her muscles around him, crying out herself at the lash of pain/pleasure the action invoked.
“Oh hell. Sarah. Don’t do that.” His lips were at her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin as he fought for control. “Don’t do that, baby, I won’t be able to hold on.”
Had he ever lost control sexually? She knew women who bemoaned over the fact that they could never make one of the August brothers lose control. She tightened around him further, her hips shifting as heat scalded her vagina, making her writhe in need beneath him.
His hips retracted then plunged harshly, and Sarah heard herself cry out as her flesh throbbed and pulsed around him. Sensation after sensation tore through her, making her arch closer to him, tighten further around him.
“Stay still, Sarah,” he begged her roughly, grinding his hips against her in short, involuntary jerks.
She couldn’t help it. The feeling was too intense, the need riding her like a demon intent on satisfaction.
