Precarious
“What makes you think I want skinny little Barbie dolls?”
I glare at him. “Don’t you?”
He kneels down in front of me, smirking. “You’ll never know. Now get your clothes off.”
“Turn around.”
He rolls his eyes, but he turns around. I quickly strip out of my clothes and reach for the blanket. He lets it go easily enough. I pull it around me, and sigh at its warmth. He turns and stares at me for a moment before lifting my clothes. He lays them out over the other blanket near the fire. “Only you would wet your clothes when we need to get movin’.”
“Well, I didn’t know there was a damned river there.”
He raises his brows. “You deaf, sweetheart?”
“Fuck you.”
He grins and comes over, sitting down beside me. “You’re freezing.”
“No shit.”
He reaches over, taking my shoulders and pulling me closer to him.
“Ah, what are you doing?”
“I’m warming you up,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“No thank you.”
He chuckles. “Wasn’t askin’ you, babe.”
“You’re trying to cop a feel, and it’s not going to happen.”
He pulls me so close I’m tucked into his side, his big arm slung around my shoulder. I can smell the leather of his jacket crossed with the scent of him . . . just man. All man. It’s musky and a little dirty, and my body reacts to it. My skin prickles and I have to press my legs together as I feel my sex becoming damp.
“Fuck,” he growls. “I can fuckin’ smell you.”
“What?” I gasp, horrified.
“You . . . you smell like fuckin’ sex. It’s like your body just flipped a damned switch and let me know what you’re too scared to tell me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I breathe.
He makes a grumbling sound and scoots back, shifting so I’m between his legs. He wraps his big arms around me, bringing my back to his chest. I stiffen. Oh boy, this is some situation we’re in right now. I close my eyes, clenching them tightly. I’m trying very hard to think about anything else right now.
“Stop it,” he growls.
“Stop what?” I whisper. “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re makin’ me fuckin’ hard with that smell.”
Jesus.
Do I smell? Really?
I think it’s bath time for me.
He parts the blanket just slightly, slipping his hand beneath.
“Whoa, hand out,” I yell, only it comes out like a shaky, half-assed plea.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want my fuckin’ hand in there. I’m not goin’ to fuck you, babe.”
“That depends on what you consider fucking,” I whimper as his fingers find my belly.
“I consider it fucking,” he murmurs, his breath against my ear, “when my cock is deep inside you, and you’re screamin’ my name.”
“Okay then,” I breathe. “Well, I consider anything entering my body, fucking.”
I can nearly feel him grinning against my ear. “I don’t have to put anything in your body to warm you up, Wildcard.”
“H-h-h-how is this warming me up?”
His fingers slide up and down my belly, stroking the soft skin there, causing little shivers to break out across my skin. His hand inches higher, finding the swell of my breasts. He gently caresses the skin there, before sliding up and cupping my breast. I gasp and wiggle, but he uses his other hand to press firmly against my belly so I can’t move.
“Believe me, in five minutes, you’ll be warm.”
I can’t answer him. My entire body has come alive. It’s been a while since I’ve been touched, and having this man’s hands on me feels so erotic, so forbidden. I close my eyes, biting my lip so hard that I taste coppery blood. He shifts closer to me and I can feel his bulging cock in his jeans, pressing against my back.
All I can see of him is his booted feet by my side and some sexy-as-fuck black jeans. He presses his lips against my neck, and my nipples turn into little hard tips within seconds. He purrs against me, making a low, rumbling sound that has everything coming to life. In a big, big way.
“I can make you warm, baby. Just say the word and I’ll make it all fuckin’ better.”
Oh I just bet he will.
“I . . .” I croak. That’s it; it’s the best I can do. That would be because his fingers are trailing down my belly towards my extremely aroused sex. His mouth is on my neck, his cock pressed against my back, and he’s about to finger fuck me. Even I’m not that strong . . . I mean come on . . . Who could say no to that?
“Spread your legs for me,” he growls into my ear.
My legs seem to do as they’re told before my brain kicks in, and my knees drop open.
“Yeah, babe, that’s the way.”
His fingers dip into my sensitive folds and I whimper, arching my back. God, I’m so wet I can feel it coating him, making a slick passage for him to do as he pleases. He makes a deep, rumbling sound in his chest as his fingers find my clit and begin massaging it.
“Oh God,” I whimper. “Yes.”
“So eager,” he hisses. “I’m goin’ to fuck you with my fingers, babe. Are you good with that?”
Good? I couldn’t be better.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He releases my clit, which causes a groan to slide from my lips. He slips his fingers lower until he finds my entrance and then gently, he pushes one thick finger inside. I arch again and he uses his hand against my belly to keep me from going too far once more. Holy sweet mother of God, he feels amazing.