Chapter Twenty-Four
Alow groan welled from Toby’s throat. Thrusts tried to break him into a rhythm, but he stayed them with barely lassoed control. He didn’t know how experienced Rose was with this, even though he sensed she knew exactly what the hell she was doing, and didn’t want to pump hard and hurt her. But God, what a boon. He held his hips still, feeling her slide her mouth deeper upon him, and his head fell back. He wanted to watch, but the silky sensation was too much to bear. He wanted to strip her shirt away, but the warm, wet caress of her tongue had paralyzed him. He wanted to lay her out and thrust his hips between her spread thighs, but this moment was too special to spoil with lust. He was falling. Hell, he’d fallen already. Never had sex felt so much like…making love.
The thought struck him.
He was making love to her. She was welcoming him into her in a way that took great trust for a woman, and he would do well to honor that trust by recognizing the tenderness of the moment for what it was. Love. Damn, bloody love. That need to protect, to hold, to wrap her in his arms and make promises about the future gripped him so hard, he, in turn, gripped her harder.
A moan welled in his throat at her pleasuring. Her lips stretched to encompass his girth. Her throat welcomed him inside of her farther. He palmed her cheek and brushed his thumb along her nose, watching reverently as she proved she did, in fact, know well what she was doing and was letting him benefit from it. His balls tightened. His climax was building pressure, making him anxious for release. He yanked free from her mouth before it was too late and leaned down to kiss her lips so softened and swollen from her task. He could taste himself on her tongue. It only made him want her more, knowing she’d liked what he’d given her.
“You’re gonna make me come before I can return the favor, sweetheart,” he whispered gruffly against her lips. “I wanna hear you begging me. I wanna hear you crying in my ear.”
His hands worked the hem of her shirt over her head, and he pulled away, dragging the neck hole off. Her curls flopped back down onto her bare back as his lips crashed back to hers. His hands flicked the hook of her bra open on her back, and he pulled the garment down her arms.
“Cute bra,” he said, pecking the corners of her mouth as he lay her back on the rumpled blanket. “Even cuter lying there in the dirt.”
She grinned at his confident smirk, breathing, “Cave decorating should be your next profession.”
Toby chuckled and dropped it beside them. “As long as it’s got you sprawled as the centerpiece.”
He then crawled atop her on all fours, gazing down at her bare breasts. Gorgeous. Her dusky nipples were tightened into little buds, and goose bumps had risen on her skin. And that tattoo… He dragged a palm over it, his fingers enclosing on the nipple as he examined its pliancy in his grip. He lowered himself upon her, bracing himself on both hands, and kissed a trail away from her mouth, down her neck, down her chest, along the twisting stems of the roses to the valley between her breasts. He dragged his nose over her skin, inhaling the smell of her body and the teasing of tea tree from her soap. So fresh, still so new to him. He wanted to savor every sensation. He wanted to take his time getting to know everything about her, and yet he wanted to be inside of her, uniting them, showing her that he was devoted to giving this new relationship an honest-to-goodness try.
He felt her chest rising and falling against his face. Felt her fingers slide over his clippered fuzz to hold his head, like he’d held hers moments ago as she took him in her mouth. His cock gave a needy nod of appreciation at the memory against her legs. He could feel the warmth of her breath upon his forehead as she looked down at what he was doing. He had to taste, had been wanting to behold her like this ever since that day he’d barged in on her in the shower. He’d jerked himself off miserably night after flipping night, imagining her, wanting her. And now that he had it, he knew he ought to treat the reward of patience with care.
“So pretty,” he murmured, caressing her taut nipple with his tongue. “Glad it’s mine.”
His mouth enclosed upon it as his hand crept up beneath the heavy flesh and squeezed it upward. A groan of satisfaction welled in his throat as he heard her moan, felt her fingers tighten in his hair and knead his scalp. She arched into his mouth. She wanted this from him. He bore down. He suckled, plied her nipple with his tongue, filled his mouth with the lush flesh, his blood firing with the spark it needed to reignite his need to mate and make it clear to her she’d never want for attention from him.
Now that she’d be spending years here, they had time to take this at just the right pace. Sweet Jesus above, he could feel his wings being clipped and didn’t mind one damn bit. Clipped wings offered a new version of freedom. Falling from where he’d been soaring for so many years. Falling in love was freedom all its own, a liberation from his old ways and a welcoming of this new and mysterious force that urged him to give himself to one woman over and over again, perfecting their union with each encounter. Was it possible for a man to spend his whole life loving one woman? Perfecting the art of extracting just the right cry from her throat?
She cried out now, giving him the prize of a sweet sound a woman made whose body was desperate to welcome a man. Her fingers pulled on his roots, pressing him closer. Her body writhed gently beneath him, rubbing friction upon his shaft and stomach, sending hot desire shooting through him. His cock pumped hard, poking against her legs as he settled his weight down on her and gave into the need to thrust his hips against her while his lips popped loose from her breast and migrated to the other so it wouldn’t be neglected.
“Delicious, baby. You want more?” His voice was so husky, so thick, he dared not talk further.
He glanced up at her face tipped back, catching the image of her jaw jutting upward and her neck wide open as she sighed. She nodded desperately, and he gave in to the need to rush. He’d been restraining himself by a thread, and now that she’d snapped it with her answer, he sucked hard upon her breast, swirling his tongue upon her skin, slightly salty from the day’s work. The tea tree was delicious, but he wanted her bathed in his soap again. He wanted to smell that piney freshness coating her like it had when she’d showered in his private bath…a bathroom that, with time, might become hers, too. God, just the thought of her rumpled in his—their—bedsheets, smelling of pine like some primal instinct to mark his territory, making the Legacy’s main house into her own, sent spirals of heat surging down to his loins.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, idiot. Take it slow, take it…Slow be damned. He was ripping open her jeans, kissing his way down her flat stomach, scarred by a few faint stretch marks from bearing a child, as she lifted her rear so he could drag the denim down. He breathed in her unique perfume. Such a sweet smell. Such cute lacy panties that hugged her hips, the sheerness of the fabric cupping her mound and making his mouth water to get her taste on his tongue as he’d given to her. He nuzzled her there, listening to the strangled whine in her throat, and looked up at her hazel-brown eyes gazing down at him.
“You want me to kiss you here?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his nose between her legs along her seam dampening her panties.
She nodded frantically, grasping his hair as if holding herself steady.
“You sure? ’Cause I can’t tell.” He grinned at his taunting until it backfired.
“I guess if you don’t want to…” She pretended to withdraw and began folding her legs together.
Hell no. His grip upon her hardened, anchoring her in place. She giggled at the play, biting her lower lip beneath her teeth as she watched him, egged him on with needy undulations. God, she was wet for him. Her desire was his undoing. He nipped the edge of her panties as he yanked her jeans down to her ankles, then splayed her thighs open and tugged aside the lace with his teeth to expose a plump lip.
He stroked his tongue over her, pushing it beneath the hem and into her seam, enclosing his lips so he could drink in the tangy taste. A groan rolled up his throat at the fine spirits, and as he worked her, his hands slid up her legs and wrapped around her thighs to snag the panties on a finger and hook them to the side while holding each leg open.
“You taste so good.” He swallowed hard, already suckling for more of the decadent taste, and nuzzled his nose against her. “I wanna drink you in forever.”
Their eyes connected as he said the words. She gazed at him, making sense of what he’d spoken. Had he just declared what he thought he had? He hadn’t intended to. And yet now that it was out in the open, he didn’t want to take it back. He liked the sound of something permanent. Forever was a long time, but already, he knew the sentiment felt right. Their chemistry had been instantaneous, from the moment he’d felt that jolt of electricity at Stella’s.
She was different than the others, and he’d been loath to fully accept it, scared of what Stella had meant. He wasn’t scared now. He embraced the idea. Rose had forced him to grow up, to put his bigger ideas into actions. She’d made him see how trivial his existence used to be. She’d made the constant advice to him over the years sink in, take on meaning he’d been too much of a dumbass to absorb.
He felt heat creep up his neck. “I don’t mean to take it too fast,” he finally stammered, but she lay a fingertip over her lips and smiled tenderly at him.
“I think we’re moving at just the right pace.” She whispered the assurance, putting him at ease. “In fact, I think it’s too slow because, hot damn, cowboy, our clothes ought to be flying off by now.”