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“Who knew Sheriff Scott was such a romantic,” she said dreamily as she once again walked downstairs.
Every detail in the home reflected Carter’s refined rustic style. The lodge encompassed coziness and luxury, a soothing retreat high in the mountains.
“This is home,” she whispered as she settled on the sofa in front of the roaring fire. Carter hadn’t asked. Instead, he had brought her here directly after the ordeal with Howell. She hadn’t left since, and whether he realized it or not, Daphne had no intention of leaving any time soon.
“You’re home early.”
“You don’t have to sound so disappointed, Sheriff Scott.” Daphne peered at Carter over her shoulder as he strode into the den. “And no, I’m not gonna say, if you want me to leave, just say so. Cause, Honeybuns... Imma not going anywhere,” she drawled.
“I won’t let you leave, so it’s good that you won’t bother.”
“Oh!” she gasped as he jumped over the sofa to wedge himself between her knees, lean in, and kiss her passionately.
“I’m cold,” he complained as he unzipped his pants while he just as efficiently pushed her leggings down. “Ahh... now that’s what I call a perfect and warm homecoming,” he murmured as he slowly thrust his tumescent cock hilt deep inside her.
“Hmm, couldn’t have said it any better,” Daphne cooed.
“Is there anything I could do to make it even better?” he murmured while nuzzling her throat.
“Lemme see,” she pondered over his question for all but two seconds. “The only thing I can think of to improve on it is a little friction.” She wiggled her hips invitingly. “You know... a little horizontal tango.”
“I can’t recall,” he said as he leaned back to stare at her. His eyes glimmered with darkening passion. “Did I ever tell you I won the National Championship for the fiery American tango?” He winked boldly as he snapped his hips sharply against hers. “You know the rhythm? Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow.”
He reiterated every phrase with a highly effective demonstration. A rich seam of burgeoning lust tore open inside her and wrapped itself snugly around the nerve endings in her loins. Shards of heat spiked through her core.
“I believe we are a perfect match,” she whimpered as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, matching his movements.
“You said it, love.”
The sudden and throaty roughness to his voice enthralled Daphne. The expectant look on his face was underscored by his arousal, which was apparent in every flex of his muscled frame.
“Hmm,” she moaned as he kneaded and palmed the softness of her buttock cheeks as he held her at the perfect angle to keep up the tango rhythm. “Yess,” she wailed and arched her back as his hands brushed down her flanks to caress the insides of her thighs. A low guttural moan crawled out of her throat and disappeared into the vastness of the space surrounding them.
“I love those little moans you do, love.” His eyes shone brightly as he watched her every reaction to his seductive manipulation.
“Oh!” she cried in surprise as he roughly pulled her hips to the edge of the sofa and gently bent back her legs.
Daphne swiftly became lost in his raw passion that was in such contrast to the gentle touch of his hands and the promise of unbound pleasure in his eyes.
The world fell away as they indulged in the unbound lust fed by the instant chemistry that had drawn them together from first glance not so long ago. There was no need for concern about the rapid advancement of their relationship as they indulged in the urgent needs of their bodies to copulate.
Afterward, their breathing haggard and worn, Carter pulled her into his arms and cuddled her against his chest.
“Hmm, I like it when you come home early from work,” she lilted as she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his waist, exulting in his essence flowing unbound into her.
Tilting her head back, Carter kissed her slowly in a meshing of warmth, passion, and need—a need that was borne the moment their eyes had met. He looked into her shimmering eyes, rimmed with a sexually satisfied glow.
“You do make a beautiful addition to my home, Lovebug.”
“Of course, I do,” she said in a snippy voice but smiled lazily to void the unintended sting. Looking into his face, she pressed her fingers against his lips and whispered, “You are my boyfriend, after all.”
“Boyfriend? Don’t you think we’re a little old to be calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Of course not, my love, it’s an ageless tradition.”
“Hmm, perhaps, but I have a preference for something a little more... permanent sounding.”
“Oh? Like what exactly?” Excitement surged through Daphne.
