Chapter Seventeen
At the kitchen sink, Amy rinsed vegetables for tonight’s stir-fry and gazed out the window at Nakos’s yard while he showered upstairs. Wild and untamed, prairie grass glinted off the sun’s rays and swayed with a breeze. Nothing but what seemed like miles of open land with the Laramie Mountains in the vast distance against a cobalt sky.
Since it was the weekend, he’d only been up at the ranch to check on things and tend to the horses. They had the rest of the day to themselves, and anticipation swirled in her belly. Nerves, too.
She recalled her conversation with Nate by the creek, had taken it to heart, and she’d been trying to let go of the past. He’d been right to call her out and lay an emotional gauntlet at her feet. At some point, she had to accept where fate was leading her. Little by little, she attempted to relax and go with the flow. See what happened. Open up. Nakos deserved that much. So hard, she wanted to believe she deserved a chance at happiness also.
Heat blasted her cheeks at the reminder of what she’d said last night while they’d unwound on the deck. Her motto had always been to claim she was fine. There was no sense in upsetting those she cared about by telling them otherwise. It wasn’t as if they could fix the damage any more than she could. Nothing but crappy circumstances completely out of their control. And hers.
But she needed to start being honest with him. Relationships were give and take, and if they stood any chance at moving forward, she had to talk to him. Let him in. Nakos had been doing everything in his power to relay to her he was with her because he wanted to be. He didn’t lie or mislead or screw around. In fact, if anything, he was too meticulous. Always, he calculated odds and outlooks and angles. No way would he have moved forward based on attraction alone if he didn’t truly think the risk was worth the reward.
And yet, guilt was a living thing. It had taken up residence in her subconscious long ago and rarely allowed for progress. Whether justified or not, and that was up for debate, she couldn’t help but wonder...if he knew what had been done to her, would he still feel the same way?
Though eighteen years had passed since that awful day, she still felt dirty. Tainted. She may have gotten over it, but she hadn’t moved on. Even now, every once in awhile, flashes would slam to mind and she was thrown right back in the alley behind her parents’ hardware store.
The brick wall scratching her cheek. Her skirt up around her waist. Panties digging into her thighs as her legs were roughly kicked apart. Tears clogging her throat and fear choking her so she was unable to scream. The sickening stench of Old Spice and sweat. And the excruciating pain of having him shove inside her from behind. It had gone on for what seemed like hours, but was probably minutes. She could still feel the trickle of blood down her leg and hear his grunts in her ear.
Up until that point, she hadn’t had much contact with her uncle. He didn’t live in Wyoming and had only visited a handful of times. Yet he’d given her the creeps. Even at such a young age, she knew the too-long hugs and lingering pats were wrong. Her first blaring lesson in sex had been a painful eye-opener.
She gave her head a violent shake and focused on washing peppers, resisting the urge to jump in the shower and scrub her skin raw. Repeated bathing hadn’t helped back then, nor would it now. It was done. Over with. Except...
The incident had never really allowed her to let go intimately with a man. For whatever reason, the memories didn’t invade during intercourse or cause her to freeze up, but she hadn’t enjoyed the experiences, either. Like a numb state of autopilot, really. Her first orgasm with a partner had been with Nakos. Last week.
Thirty years old, and she was just now realizing what it was like to be a woman. Sad.
Maybe it was his patience or that she knew him so well, or perhaps the level of trust played a part, but with Nakos, she was helpless to passion. Desire. Need. He wrung her out and brought pleasure she hadn’t known was possible. It didn’t hurt that he knew what he was doing, too. Every touch and lick and kiss and suck was like detonation. There was no thinking around him.
He seemed equally enraptured. But, again, would that change if he knew? Her virginity had been taken in an alley, next to a garbage bin, with newspapers and refuse littering the way. The potential for her to ever be worthy of a good man wasn’t possible. It wasn’t just that she’d been violated, rendering her soiled, but the rape had been doled by a member of her own family. By blood. Nakos would be disgusted if he ever found out. As revolted as she had been about herself all these years. She was used goods. Every bit the whore her uncle had grated while he’d…
Footsteps padded behind her and she glanced over her shoulder, bitch-slapping the past away.
In a pair of jeans slung low on his hips, barefoot, and shirtless, Nakos stood on the other side of the counter, his contemplative black eyes on her. Olive skin and six pack abs and corded muscle. God, even his feet were sexy. Heaven help her, he’d left his hair down, too.
She moaned. “Not playing fair, walking around shirtless.”
He huffed a rough laugh and rubbed his chest, eyes skimming down the length of her and back.
“Anything wrong?”
He was staring at her like he’d been hit with the stupid stick. That was the other thing. The way he looked at her? For the first time in her pathetic life, she felt desirable. Wanted. Even when he wasn’t turned on, his gaze held appreciation and heat.
“Nothing at all wrong. Too right, actually.” His hoarse tone had dipped to a groan-inducing rumble like it did when he was aroused or emotional. “You look utterly perfect standing in my kitchen.”
Knees? Jelly.
She grinned, shaking her head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t mean that to be as sexist as it sounded.” Moving the peppers and carrots over to drain, she started in on the peapods.
He came up from behind and pressed against her, all hot, hard male. His lips skimmed the shell of her ear. “It’s not sexist when it’s true. And it’s not just my kitchen where you look perfect.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and flattened the other hand between her breasts, stealing her breath. “My shower.” His hand moved up to gently cup her throat and tilt her head back, earning a tremble from her. “My deck.” His thumb stroked her jaw, and she whimpered. “My living room or truck or anywhere else. Perfect, Ames.”
Water continued to run in the sink, but she couldn’t strum up the energy to care. Not with him snug against her or with his hands doing their juju. Heat blasted her from all directions, leaving her damp. Needy.
“Know where else you’d be perfect, bixooxu?” His teeth scraped along her neck and she almost slid to the floor in a heap.
“Where?” she breathed. She had no clue what the term he’d just rasped meant, but between his touch and his voice, he could call her a hippo and she wouldn’t care. Her breasts ached and her nipples were stiff peaks behind her bra.
“My bed.” Reaching forward, he shut off the faucet, only to cup her heat through her capris and grind himself against her backside. “You’ll look best of all in my bed,” he growled, vibrating the skin along her throat.
Did that mean...? Her eyes flew open, staring unseeing at the ceiling due to the way he held her head back to get to her neck. They’d fooled around and had some mind-blowing moments, but had yet to do the actual deed. She’d wanted to, so badly, yet he never pushed. In truth, she got the impression he’d held off as much for himself as he had for her.
He pressed the heel of his hand more snugly against her mound, right over her clit. She gasped, a full-body tremor coursing through her. Zings rode a current along her nerve-endings. She went from wet to drenched. Panting, she said his name.
A groan, as if he liked his name on her lips, and he was back at her ear. “Yes, I want you in my bed. I’m going to worship every inch of your beautiful body until you can’t even think my name, never mind say it. I’m going to taste you and kiss you and elicit pleasure unlike anything you’ve known or dreamed.” He cradled her breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb. “Then, I’m going to make love to you slowly, bury myself so deep a divinity couldn’t separate us.” He nuzzled his nose behind her ear and spoke into her hair. “Hours, days, years...I’m going to spend on you.” A pause. “Please.”
Oh God. Time after time, he brought out this whole other side of him. The beast, she often referred to it because that’s what he seemed like when turned on. Quiet, contemplative Nakos got knocked aside for his baser self. And if his words weren’t enough to send her spiraling, he always threw a “please” after his blatant demands as if seeking permission.
Like she had a choice?
“Yes.” She barely got the word past the need tightening her throat. Just in case, she brought her arm back and threaded her fingers through his hair.
He hissed, and the next thing she knew, he’d slipped an arm under her legs and carried her out of the kitchen. She’d never been...swept off her feet before. It made her a little uneasy, but the tension in his expression indicated the strain was sexually related and not from her weight.
As if he’d read her thoughts, his gaze cut to hers while he climbed the stairs. Searing, those dark depths. “Hear me now. This is about you and me. No one else. I know there were others before me and they treated you unkind. I will not do that. Never, will I do that. Your wings will heal, anim. I promise you.”
Sudden tears burned her eyes and a sob hitched in her chest. How was she supposed to protect what was left of herself after all the slashing previously done if he kept saying things that left her bleeding? “Nakos.”
God, she was going to cry. Darn it.
He laid her on the bed and rose over her. “None of that either, bixooxu.” Brushing his nose with hers, he offered an affectionate smile. “Just you and me. I’m going to make you feel so good.”
To prove it, he started with her mouth, and her tears dried before they had a chance to fall. Achingly tender, he brushed his lips with hers and tilted his head. Going deeper, he slid his tongue along the length of hers, swirling the tip and tracing patterns. Whatever strain she’d been holding in her frame suddenly dissolved.
He rose to stand beside the bed and she chanced a quick peek around to calm her nerves. His room was only slightly larger than hers, but the walls were a deep forest green and the furniture a walnut sleigh design. What looked like a dreamcatcher hung over the queen-sized bed. She hadn’t realized he had a balcony facing south, and sunlight streamed in, filling the room with natural light. No chance of her hiding her flaws in the dark, that was for sure. The space was warm and masculine like him, with two mountain scenes above the dresser that...she’d taken.
“I look at them every night before I go to sleep.”
Her gaze shot to his, her heart turning over in her chest. “Why?”
“Because you took them. And if that’s not enough reason, they settle me.” With his dark gaze on hers, he unbuttoned his jeans. The zipper came next, and then he shoved the material to his thighs. A couple quick maneuvers, and the pants hit the floor.
She swallowed thickly, keeping her eyes on his face. Though she’d seen him without clothing, this was different. Broad daylight. In his bedroom. And moments from crossing the line. Anxiety clutched her belly, made her tremble. What if she let him down?
He crawled across the bed to kneel between her legs. “Sit up, anim.” She complied, and he took off her shirt, her bra, and discarded them. “Lay back.” With just as much careful consideration, he rid her of her remaining clothing. He offered a reverent shake of his head. “Wanted you like this for so long.”
She’d never been comfortable in her own skin, had hated her body and the extra weight that kept her from being pretty. But the way he looked at her left a scorching trail over every inch his gaze roamed. In his eyes, there was no disappointment or displeasure. Only appreciation. Her nerves fled.
Still kneeling between her legs, he gripped her ankles, stroking. His thumbs traced lazy circles and drifted higher to her calves. Yet his eyes remained on her, ever searching, wandering like a heated caress. The longer he stared, the darker his eyes grew until the brown of his irises was swallowed by his pupils.
Breath short, she relaxed and took him in, her gorgeous warrior. His raven strands were loose around his head, long enough to brush his wide shoulders, and had a slight wave to the ends. Thick lashes. High cheekbones. Square jaw dusted with dark stubble.
Tendons in his neck coiled as he moved his hands to the outside of her thighs. His biceps bunched, forearms flexing, and her belly clenched. He had a lean build, more athlete than bodybuilder, with quiet strength under all that hot, bronzed skin. Defined pecs and cut abs. Gluts that made a perfect V to where a thin scattering of black hair left a goody trail.
He wasn’t manufactured in a gym, wasn’t bulky or intimidating. Rather, he was the delicious result of hard work and years of physical ranch labor. A job he loved and was more play than a profession for him. Sculpted. Toned. Amazing.
His erection was long, semi-thick, and the crown bumped his navel. Shades darker than the rest of his skin, his length was perfect. Protruding veins and moisture at the tip, all jutting proudly from a small thatch of dark hair. She’d had him in hand, in her mouth, and ached to have him buried inside her.
“Beautiful, bixooxu.” His gaze met hers. He flattened his palms on her breasts, kneading. His throat worked a swallow. “Just beautiful.”
She came alive under him, cell by cell, but her mind focused on the word he’d used. He’d said it a couple times today with a possessive note. “What does the term mean?” God, she loved it when he spoke his native tongue. It wasn’t pretty or eloquent as other languages, but in his low, deep voice, it sounded guttural. Personal.
He gave a slight shake of his head like he wasn’t ready to divulge that info yet, and bent at the waist to replace his hand with his mouth on her breast. A sharp, rapid suck, and he’d claimed the entire nipple. Scorching pressure built in the area and spread everywhere. Before she could rally, he moved to the other one and repeated the motion. Her fingers twitched, so she shoved them in his hair, clenching the strands, holding him to her.
“That’s it, anim.” He groaned as if encouraging her and grazed his teeth on a path to her belly. He swirled his tongue around her navel and a tremor coursed through her. She arched, earning another groan. “That’s it right there. Show me you like what I’m doing to you. I’m in heaven.”
His gaze flicked to hers as he spread her legs. Feather-light kisses trailed over her thighs. Anticipation flared, fluttered under her skin like razor-tipped wings. She shivered, though she wasn’t cold in the least, and bit her lip. His lips quirked in a satisfied half grin, obviously appreciating her reaction. Grabbing her behind the knees, he lifted her legs and situated himself flat on the mattress as if settling in. He set her calves over his shoulders so that his head was locked between her thighs and his face inches from where she throbbed for him.
“Do not come.” He clamped his large hands on her hips, then dragged them between her and the mattress to cup her bottom. “This time, we do it together. Don’t come.”
Panting, she stared at him. Every sexual encounter before had been a struggle to feel a measure of what excitement Nakos gave her. Reaching, forever reaching to get to a release, chasing a white light that had never come. The irony was almost laughable because she knew there’d be no effort with him. Not only had he brought her to the cliff edge many times, he’d shoved her over into a freefall. And he wanted her to hold out?
Then he pressed his face between her folds, and she whimpered. He tongued her opening with hot, wet jabs. Invade. Retreat. The motion had lightning flashing through her core, searing nerves at the root. She moaned in frustration, loving and hating the tease. Arching, she closed her eyes, and he rewarded her by flicking her clit. She cried out, fisting the sheets, and he nipped her bud. The breath properly ripped from her lungs.
It seemed every reaction from her, whether a touch or moan or involuntary tremble, earned her more pleasure. His own twisted way of getting her to act on instinct, lose herself in him. Didn’t he get it? Any deeper and she’d not exist.
The longer he toyed with her, the more taut her body became, until tingles shot up her spine. “Nakos,” she breathed, trying to warn him. He hadn’t wanted her to… Oh God. She was so close. She writhed. “Nakos, please.”
In a blur, he rose over her, their faces close. “Together,” he reminded her. He reached over to the nightstand and withdrew a condom from a drawer. Foil ripped. His breathing labored as he rolled the latex down his length. Then he sank in the cradle of her thighs and brushed his nose with hers. “Together.”
But he didn’t take her. Instead, he kissed her cheek, the underside of her jaw, and nuzzled her neck. His weight was welcome, all his yummy hard in all the right spots but one. He seemed to be waiting for something, yet she had no clue what. She was so wet and ready and out of her mind. More kisses rained over her collarbone as he drifted to the other side, assaulting the nerves behind her ear with his tongue and teeth.
Desperate, she grabbed the back of his neck, and he groaned. The rumble vibrated her breasts. He rocked his hips, rubbing his length between her folds. She gasped and brought her other hand up to sink her nails into his shoulder. This time, he growled, rocking harder and pressing her clit in a slow glide.
Her cry hung in the air. Once her body got over the rapid blast of pleasure, she realized he wanted her hands on him. A part of him needed her to show him what he was doing to her, that she enjoyed being with him.
Holding her breath, she skimmed her fingers down his spine, loving the hard muscle over soft flesh. They rippled as if he were an animal being petted. She did it again with her other hand until the fingers of both sunk into his tight ass.
“Hihcebe, yes.” He panted unevenly, his breath hot. His hips jerked, his erection giving her the pressure she craved.
Without thinking, she spread her legs wider. Lifting her head, she buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent of male and earth and soap. He rolled his hips, offering shallow strokes and encouraging more. Something wild unfurled inside her. She opened her mouth wide, latched onto the straining tendon in his neck. He panted, pelvis moving faster, and she dragged her tongue along his thumping pulse.
He groaned, hoarse and long and loud. Lifting his head, he looked down at her through half-mast lids. “Bixooxu means love.” His gaze searched hers, darting between her eyes, while her heart tripped behind her ribs. “My angel, my love.”
Before the phrase could fully take root in her mind, he adjusted his hips. The head of his erection brushed her opening, then he penetrated. Slowly, keeping his intent gaze on hers, he pushed inside her, stretching her in a maddeningly delicious invasion. Every inch of him slid along her walls so there was nothing left to feel but him. Only him. Inside her, surrounding her. Everywhere.
When he was as far as he could go, he paused. He said her name on a sigh, rough and like a prayer. “My anim, my bixooxu.”
Her throat closed at the reverence in his tone, in his eyes, but he didn’t give her time to react. Tilting his head, he slanted his lips over hers and eased his hips back. At his retreat, she whimpered a protest into his mouth, hating the emptiness he left in his wake. As if sensing what she needed, he cupped her cheek and thrust. She gasped at the fullness, the fit, and tilted her pelvis to bring him deeper.
“Nothing,” he said against her lips, his brows pinched. “Nothing feels better than being inside you.”
She could trace every red blood cell swimming through her veins. He had her that in tune to her body. Her need. She rolled her hips, restless for him, and he answered by thrusting again.
“Yes.” Throwing her head back, she arched. Her arms flung wide, then drifted to the headboard. She planted her palms against the wood, gaining leverage to bear down on him. Lost to what they were doing, she didn’t care about what she said or did, how wanton she must appear. “God, Nakos. Yesss.”
That seemed to unleash something in him. He thrust harder, faster. Working his arms under her, he caged her against his chest. A desperate rumble, and he nipped her throat. “Never get enough of this.”
His hips pistoned while his mouth remained tender. Over her collarbone, up to her chin, across her cheek. Each plunge filled her, again and again, and he ground a quick roll against her clit with every pass. She teetered, so close, knotted with tension.
Removing his arms from around her, he placed his hands on her ribs. The rough calluses grazed her skin as he dragged them over her waist, past her hips, to the tops of her thighs. “Straighten your legs.” He pressed down, urging her to follow his order, and stopped thrusting, waiting for compliance.
She’d nearly been there, and he’d...stopped? Torture. She moaned a complaint.
“Trust me, Amy. Straighten your legs for me.”
Unhooking her ankles from his lower back, she stretched her legs against the warm sheets beside his. Without preamble, he spread them wider, pinning her thighs to the mattress with his hands.
Oh…God. The new position made him feel fuller inside her and rubbed along her delicate flesh to a spot that ripped a violent tremble from her. Her body…burned.
“There, anim. See? I’ve got you.” His voice was low, cajoling, but carnal arousal danced in his dark eyes. “I’ve always got you. Now feel me. Feel only me and let go.” Hands firmly keeping her legs locked straight, he withdrew and plunged.
Utterly amazing. A careening cry seared her throat. His thickness filled her with absoluteness and he hit so deep her womb clenched. That spot he’d grazed within was stroked again at the same moment his pelvic bone added pressure to her throbbing nub. Wracked with pleasure, she crossed her arms over her face, almost unable to take it.
He paused yet again. “Look at me.” He waited until she dropped her arms and their eyes met. “Together, bixooxu. Let me feel you come undone.”
Her gaze took in his features, and she realized how close he was, too. Tension tightened his forehead, his mouth. His arms shook, and he rasped air like a man dying. Yet he held her gaze with patience and determination, even as need seemed to demand he claim her.
This time, when he pulled out, he watched her as if by no choice of his own. Something connected them, bound them to one another. Stronger than mere desire. Fiercer than a physical joining. And when he drove home, she felt him in every atom of her body.
He plunged into her, over and over, his graceful, fluent motions growing more rigid. And she fell apart under him. Sparks ignited, caught flame, and roared through her in a blaze. She cast a silent scream while she bowed, limbs locking. Convulsing around him, the sweet torment dragged an eternity.
Releasing her legs, he fell on top of her, thrusting through her orgasm and swelling inside her. He brought his arms up, framing her face with his biceps, and rested his forehead to hers. Pain and pleasure twisted his expression. He pumped harder, roared, and shuddered long moments. Then he buried his face in her hair, muttering unintelligible words in Arapaho as his gorgeous body quaked.
He settled as dead weight on top of her, didn’t lift his head to look at her, but his hand held the side of her face as if scared she might not be real. Heaving air, ruffling her strands, he finally said something she could understand.
“I was always yours, and now you’re mine.”