One arm locked hard around her hips, lifting her against him as his hand gripped her thigh, guiding her leg around his waist. This wasn’t the smooth, practiced lover she had come to know. As his lips bore down on hers, his erection nudged between her thighs, found her slick and wet, and drove home.
Sensation exploded through her. The sudden burning pleasure clawed a scream from her throat and sent her pulse racing with an overload of pleasure. As his c**k buried in her to the hilt, his tongue plundered her mouth, her lips, tangled with hers and licked at the sudden passion that blazed from her.
Colors burst behind her closed eyes as he began to thrust. Pushing her against the wall, his hands clamped on the cheeks of her rear and he began driving inside her. Deep, desperate lunges that drove the breath from her lungs and reality from her head.
She held on tight and let the pleasure have her. She let Jethro have her. The hard thrust of his c**k inside her, his lips ravishing hers before moving to her neck, to the rounded tops of her br**sts.
His breathing was rough, ragged, matching hers as she tightened on him, feeling the pleasure washing over her, through her.
“I love the feel of you,” he snarled as he buried his lips in the side of her neck. “The smell of you. Sweet taste.”
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her arms tightening around his shoulders as his h*ps moved harder, driving his erection deeper. “Oh God, don’t stop, Jethro. Never.”
“Never.” He nipped her neck, drove inside her harder, faster, stretching her, burning her until the conflagration of sensations began to ripple in ever-widening circles, tightening her womb, her clit, driving into her soul until she screamed out with the fiery explosions that ripped through her.
A harsh male growl left his lips as two powerful strokes sent Jethro into his own release, his se**n pumping furiously into her, branding her, marking her as his as well and sealing her to him.
When it was over, she lay limply against his chest, just trying to catch her breath as her eyes opened.
And there, framed in the doorway, was Mac, his gray eyes glittering in hunger as he winked back at her with wicked lust and heated love.
“Better shower,” he told them both huskily. “I heard Victoria and Robert are on their way here. You know how the old girl hates to be kept waiting.”
Jethro let her go slowly, his lips pressing to hers as his eyes opened, the blue glittering with love and laughter rather than the dark shadows and pain.
“I think we need more land,” he said then. “If Mac and I work hard enough, then we might not wear you out.”
“You’re staying?” she cried out, staring back at him as the tight knot of pain in her chest began to unravel.
“I think I better.” He shook his head in mock sadness. “Mac spoils you worse than a Christmas puppy. Someone has to have control.”
“Give me another week, you’ll spoil me, too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, though her eyes met Mac’s again and she saw the warmth there, the approval. Hell, she saw joy.
“I love you both,” she whispered, her voice rough as Jethro eased back and Mac stepped into the circle.
One arm around his neck, the other around Jethro’s, their arms surrounding her, their heat filling her.
She was selfish. She didn’t want a third, she wanted a whole. And it was here, in her arms. Two men and a future filled with promises.
Victoria Staten entered the foyer in front of her son Robert, her expression drawn, her eyes dark with sadness as Keiley stood at the entrance to the living room and watched Mac step back to let them in.
Robert was a few years older than Mac. He was shorter, distinguished rather than rough around the edges, controlled and methodical. He ran the family businesses now, a mix of enterprises from computer hardware to cotton production. His shoulders were broad, his dark hair cut close, his sea-green eyes shuttered as he and Mac shook hands before Mac introduced him to Jethro.
“Can we talk?” Robert pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he stared back at Jethro and Mac.
“Come in, Robert. Victoria.” Keiley stepped forward as she extended her hand to the living room. “I’ll fix some coffee.”
“No, dear,” Victoria said firmly. “This is something you need to hear as well.”
Keiley glanced to Robert. He nodded abruptly.
“Come on in,” Mac said then.
Jethro moved ahead of them, standing by the couch and indicating the two chairs that faced it across a low coffee table. Once Victoria had sat down, Jethro moved to one end of the couch as Keiley took her seat beside him, with Mac on her other side.
The move wasn’t lost on Victoria. She watched them with a closed expression, but her eyes took in the nuances of the seating arrangements.
“I want to apologize for Delia’s behavior, Mac,” Robert stated as he stared back at them. “I know she received the picture from Wes Bridges. The sheriff found the e-mail on his laptop. She’s been a nuisance, and I take the blame for that.”