Shameless - Sybil Bartel Page 0,88
rasp. “Think about how good fucking will feel when you’re knocked up.”
He was right. I wanted everything he was seductively, shamelessly suggesting. And I did love it when he took me when I was hormonal, but I wouldn’t have known that if he hadn’t come at me and fucked me senseless in the shower that first month we were together. “Nice attempt at distraction.”
“Hit the fucking target.” He dragged the head of his cock through my heat.
My eyes rolled back and I bit my lip. “Fuck me, and maybe I will,” I managed, breathless.
“Target first.” He nipped at my shoulder. “Aim like I taught you.”
“No.” Oh my God, it should be illegal how good this man felt. “Give me that Prince Albert first.” I tried to grind my hips into his.
Gripping me hard so I couldn’t move, he growled in my ear. “Reverse PA, woman.” He positioned his head at my entrance. “Be fucking thankful I knew the difference when I modified.”
I was. So goddamn thankful. That piercing hit my G-spot every time he fucked me missionary. Orgasm was too tame a word for what he could do to me. “Please,” I begged. “Fuck me.”
He moved so quick, I didn’t see it coming.
He gripped the gun over my hand, jerked to the left, and his trigger finger smashed over mine in rapid succession five times. The shots blew away the center of the target. Yanking the Glock from my hand, he dropped it to the ground. Then he flattened his palm on my back, and bent me over the low hanging branch.
He shoved into me in one thrust.
My cry of shock mixed with a moan of pleasure and echoed through the woods.
He pulled out only to slam back in and grind his hips. The reverse Prince Albert rubbed deep inside me and I felt it all the way to my toes. “Oh my God, Shade.”
Gripping my waist, he slowed his thrusts and leaned over my back. Leaving a sweet kiss on my cheek, he stilled deep inside me. “What are you afraid of?”
A shiver ran up my spine. I knew what he was asking. “I’m not afraid.” Not exactly.
Slow and deep, he thrust again. “You took your pill this morning.”
It wasn’t an accusation. He wasn’t pushing me into this, I knew that. He was asking because he didn’t understand. We’d talked about children. He wanted them. I wanted them. I loved him. He loved me. He told me every day that I was it for him.
But that wasn’t the problem.
He slowly ground his hips and kissed my temple. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk.” I was afraid to. “I want to come.”
He pulled out.
His movement, quick and abrupt, was enough to make me gasp, but not hurt me.
Before I could draw in my next breath, he’d pulled me up, spun me around and took my face between his rough hands. “I love you.”
With his eyes more amber than brown in the mountain sun filtering through the pines, he was so beautiful and austere. He was also so shamelessly honest as he stood before me erect and exposed, that he took my breath away.
A shyness I still struggled with even though I knew exactly how I felt about him, fluttered over my nerves as I said the words I meant deep in my heart, but still made me feel vulnerable every time I gave them to him. “I love you.”
“Then why don’t you want to have a family with me?”
I felt my face flush in crisp mountain air.
He frowned. “Tell me.”
Drawing in a deep breath, and stealing my nerves, I gave him the truth. “I know I told you I wanted to wait until the new house was finished.”
“Woman.” His frown deepened. “The stilts, foundation and framing are up. The roof’s going on. Six more months and you’ll have your house.”
I withered at the thought of disappointing him, or worse, forcing him into something he didn’t want. “We’ll have our house,” I corrected, even though I knew it was still a sore spot for him that I’d paid for the five thousand square foot custom built home. Perched on the north side of his mountain, it was a half mile away as a crow flies from his cabin. “I don’t want to argue semantics again. Your mountain, my home, whatever. You’ll love it when we move in, and it’s all ours.” And that was the point I was trying to get to.
He gave me one of his growly rumbles from