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Fallen Giant Page 12
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She didn’t give him a chance to ask.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He growled. Growled. Trish felt that deep in her womb. His lips slanted over hers and she opened her mouth for him. He greedily swept in, taking everything, his tongue tangling with hers. Her hands went from his shoulders up into his hair, the short hairs dragging on her fingers and heightening her senses. His beard, heavy and wet, dripped rainwater on her camisole and trickled down her stomach. He was everywhere, holding her, squeezing her, lifting her, and it wasn’t enough.
Trish pulled at his shirt, wet and clinging to his skin. He moved one of his hands from her ass, but never broke contact with her mouth. He hooked a hand in the back of his T-shirt, pushing her against the wall with his hips, pulling his shirt off his body. Levi pulled back just for a moment to yank the shirt over his head and then it was sailing through the air, splatting on the floor.
His hands dug back into her thighs now, urging her body higher. Trish ran her hand down his naked chest. “Levi,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Bedroom.”
He seized her mouth again. She felt one of his hands cup her chin and he angled her head so he could kiss her deeper. Trish sucked on his tongue and grappled closer. She held on as he pulled her up, off the wall, stumbled slightly. She heard his boots hit her hardwood floor as he toed them off. He carried her down the hall, his denim clad hips careening into her panty clad core. Sparkles twinkled around her at each slam of his hips.
Levi swung her down the hallway, one hand splayed out to follow the wall. The storm raged outside, mimicking the intensity in Trish’s little bungalow. He found her bedroom and crashed through the door.
Trish swung her legs down to the floor, the towel long ago dropped, her body and mind humming from his kisses.
Their last kiss still pounded through her veins. She could barely catch her breath. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him. “Levi…”
“You changing your mind?”
Trish blinked at him, his hair disheveled, his shoulders nearly as wide as her bedroom doorway. His chest still streaked with rain, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good.”
Yeah, hot. She shivered it was so hot. How ridiculous. What was wrong with her? But when he gave her camisole a pointed look, she swept the fabric up over her head, uncaring that maybe she wasn’t a young twenty-something anymore. Maybe she did have a couple extra pounds she should have gotten rid of.
When Levi’s hands cupped her breasts, when his head bent so his tongue could slide down the side of her neck, she didn’t give one flying fuck that she shouldn’t have eaten that pint of ice cream last night.
His tongue tasted her collarbone, dipped into the hollow at the base of her neck, meandered its way down, over the slope of a breast and teased the aching nipple. Trish panted, watching him, and grabbed the back of his head to hold him to her. The flat of his tongue swept over her nipple, once, twice, then his lips wrapped around her flesh and tugged. Trish drove her fingers into his hair, pulling, then pushing, her palms cupping his head.
“Oh, my God, Levi,” she whispered.
The tugging of his mouth stopped as he lapped his way over to her other breast. He treated that one just as lovingly and Trish shifted restlessly. When she couldn’t stand anymore, she fisted her hands in his hair and pulled lightly.
He stood straight, his lips glossy, and reached out. Fingers and thumbs took up the teasing of her breasts, first cupping then kneading, nipples flicking through fingers.
Trish looked up at him, this giant of a man. They’d met only days ago but she felt like she’d known him a lifetime. Her world was spinning right now, not just from his presence and his talented mouth and tongue, but from the horrors she’d seen. It felt almost wrong to take this moment for herself.
“You’re thinking,” he murmured.
“I can’t help it,” she whispered back.
“Let me help then.” A massive hand snaked up and under her hair, cradling her head. She watched his mouth descend and she licked her lips in anticipation.
He nibbled first, to get her panting, wanting. He gripped her bottom lip with his teeth, gently biting, then using his tongue to soothe. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, touched hers and she moaned softly.
She was in the air again, her hands gripping his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her. They were on the move and Trish felt the softness of her comforter-draped mattress behind her legs. He set her down, sliding her body down the length of his. Her hands followed the trail, smooth skin, hard muscle flexing beneath her fingers. She leaned forward and kissed where her fingers touched, her tongue flicking out to meet hardened muscle.
“Trish,” he grunted. He put his hands in her hair, but didn’t pull her back. He let her explore, ramping up the tension between them.
Until she could stand no more. Her tongue paused on his chiseled physique, her lips pursed and she kissed him near his hipbone. Then she reared up and back, pulling out of his grasp.
“Trish?” he asked.
She scooted back on the bed and once in the middle, she got to her knees. She shimmied out of her plain cotton panties, tossing them aside, and lay down on the bed. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have spread her legs for him, but her bravery only carried her so far. She needn’t have worried.
Levi took her movements as the invitation they were. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, struggling with the wet denim, cursing under his breath, but never taking his eyes off her. She watched as he hopped on one foot, almost falling, righting himself at the last moment with a hand on the mattress. After that the denim was gone and he was left in boxer briefs, black as sin, and Trish’s mouth watered at the sight of his length in those boxer briefs. The material couldn’t contain him and the head of his cock peeked out the top, angry red, and Trish wanted nothing more than to soothe him.
He climbed on the bed, crawling on all fours til he hung over her. His hair was still wet, and the silky black draped downward to almost touch her face.
He didn’t say anything, just gazed down at her until she couldn’t bear it anymore.
“What are you looking at?”
He cupped her cheek and tenderly skimmed the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “A beautiful woman.”
She fought back the urge to snort her derision. “Levi—”
“Don’t argue,” he interrupted. “Just let me look.”
But he didn’t just look. He reached down and touched his lips to her forehead. Her nose. Her cheeks. Finally her lips. Trish’s legs moved restlessly. Her hands clenched on the comforter. She’d never felt cherished before. It didn’t sit well, really. His lips glided along her jaw, down her neck. Feather light kisses inched along her collarbone again. The slope of her breast, the tip. The other breast, the other aching nipple. Each rib. The tummy she couldn’t get rid of, the soft rise of her belly.
“Levi…”
Now she was hot because wherever his lips touched, a fire ignited under her skin. She wanted to touch him but she couldn’t bring herself to. The fear of the two of them going up in flames teased at her brain.
Now his fingers walked along her thighs and Trish immediately parted them. He shushed her when she moaned, but she refused to look down. She kept her eyes on her ceiling, the lightning crackling along her nerve endings as it illuminated the room. If she looked, this all might end, this might not be real…
“Trish.”
She swallowed, her heart pounding in her ears. Gathering her courage, she moved her head on the pillow, angling downward to see him.
“It’s been a while for me, too.”
Now she did snort. “I find that hard to believe.”
One side of his mouth tipped up in a grin. “You can believe what you want, but it’s true.” He crawled back up over her, this time with his knees between her legs. “And all I want is you.”
Trish melted. She wanted
desperately to say those words back, but they got stuck in her throat. His lips covered hers again and he slowly lowered himself to cover her. She welcomed his weight and spread her legs wider to give his hips more room. He started a slow thrust, fabric covered cock hitting right where Trish needed it.
When she tilted her hips up, Levi pulled his head back. “I’m trying to take this slow, baby. You keep doing that, things are gonna get wild.”
“Why do you want to go slow?” she asked.
He looked down at her, his eyes blazing. “We only get one first time, Trish.”
Her heart melted. How could he look at her with such intense longing and need, then claim such a romantic thing? She tilted her hips again. “That’s true,” she murmured. “But I still want you inside of me.”
He held himself above her with one elbow on the bed, the other arm on the headboard, leveraging him over her. She watched him, watched all sorts of emotions race across his face and in his eyes. Until finally he leaned down and kissed her. No tongue. Just a soft, chaste kiss on the lips. When he moved back, he went all the way to his knees and hooked his thumbs in his boxer briefs waistband.
“You asked for it.”
Trish might have blacked out for a minute as he pulled the boxer briefs down and off. Her experience wasn’t vast, but it also wasn’t limited. Levi was big. Of course, she knew he was big, so she’d assumed he’d be bigger in this area, but Levi was big.
Her mouth watered.
Dear Lord she was acting like a lustful whore.
He stretched out over her again and she stopped berating herself about being a lustful whore. Because this lustful whore was going to get some of that.
“You ready?”
“I already told you that I—”
She abruptly stopped speaking when his fingers delved between her legs. He wasted no time in petting or stroking, just found her opening and shoved two fingers inside.
He grinned. “Yeah. You’re ready.”
Her mouth dropped open as he fucked her with his fingers, but there was still a burning need deeper inside of her. She raised her hips, jolting against his cock, and he hissed in a breath.
“Levi,” she whispered.
The lights around them flickered and another crack of thunder rolled through the room. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed his cock.
“Spread wide,” he muttered.
Trish couldn’t spread any farther, but she tried.
The thick head of his cock bumped her, searching for the opening left empty by his fingers. His thickness found her and he fed his cock into her, his teeth clenched and his other muscled arm holding his body off hers. They both watched the magic of his thick hard maleness disappear inch by inch…by inch.
Trish pulled in a deep breath, the fullness inside of her growing. Her pussy walls expanded for that cock of his. She felt every vein, every pulse of him. The lights flickered again, finally sputtering out as Levi released his cock and thrust hard, bottoming out inside of her.
Trish let out a muffled cry.
Levi dropped to both hands over her. “Am I hurting you?”
She ran her palms up his sides, feeling the ridges of his ribs underneath the hard muscle. She wrapped her legs over his thighs, pulling him closer.
“No,” she moaned, her head digging deep into the pillow. “Dear God, no.”
He grinned. “Baby, you feel wonderful.”
Trish kicked her hips up and then it was Levi’s turn to moan. Sure, it might have been awhile, but this was like riding a bike. She might be under Levi, but she was going to ride this bull until she couldn’t move. She squeezed her pussy on him, wringing out another moan, feeling him kick in her body. Yeah, that was good. So she kept doing it. Again and again.
Until Levi tried to slow things down. Until Levi attempted, with a grunt, to control the pace. His hands slid under her, clutched the globes of her ass, and tried to limit her movements.
Trish was having none of it.
The room heated up around them, the rain outside doing nothing to cool off their passion. With the electricity off, the air wasn’t running, and soon both were slicked with sweat as they fought each other, one to go faster, one to slow down.
“Trish, I want to make this good for you,” Levi muttered.
“Trust me, this is good.”
She rolled her hips over and over and finally Levi gave up and followed her movements. He wanted to make this good for her? The second he pulled that thick, hard cock out of his jeans, this was good for her.
Trish’s toes curled as Levi pounded harder. “Oh, God,” she mumbled. Each thrust of his cock hit that special spot inside of her. Hit it, pressed against it, rubbed it. Levi finally figured that out and angled his hips so he made the most of the contact. Trish began a low humming deep in her throat. This was good. This was amazing.
This was spectacular.
*****
Levi wanted to go slow. He had every intention to go slow. But Trish grabbed his cock with her pussy and didn’t let go. He might pass out from this heat, but first he’d give Trish the best orgasm of her life.
The only sounds were the slapping of his hips against hers, the squeaking of her bed, and their own moist panting. He braced himself above her, one fist in each pillow on either side of her head, and he watched her, fascinated, as she fucked herself with his cock. As soon as her pussy had tasted that first inch of him, she took over. Levi could only keep up. Trish was about to shatter his world and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was about to have the biggest orgasm of her life.
He reared up and back on his knees, grabbing Trish’s hips, then rested on his heels. Her pussy was so wet, slicked with her juices and whatever pre-cum she’d milked out of him. Trish grappled with him briefly, trying to find purchase in this new position, but he wouldn’t give it to her. He knew where his cock needed to be. She might have taken over at first, but right now? No, this was all Levi giving her what she needed.
She knew it. Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him, her mouth dropping into an “O.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Right there, Trish.”
She bit her lip and bucked her hips involuntarily. He felt the small quakes begin to shake her pussy walls. Her hands grabbed his forearms, her nails dug in.
“Oh, God, Levi.”
He thrust harder, driving her higher and higher. Finally she broke, her body clamping down on his cock, her nails drawing blood in his arms. The pleasure coasted through her, wrapped around him, and drew him high up on his knees.
“Levi! Levi!”
His name on her lips was like a prayer. He could listen to it forever. His lips pulled back as he grunted, his cock just about done taking all it could take. His fingers no doubt bruised her hips, but he didn’t care and he didn’t think she would either. As the waves of Trish’s orgasm reached their highest peak, Levi let go. Let the come spurt out inside of her and let his cock nudge her womb. She shrieked under him but he wasn’t worried that he’d hurt her. No, he felt another orgasm detonate inside of her when his come joined the party.
Fuck, it felt like he was going to come forever.
But finally, Trish subsided, her body flushed and her pussy trembling. He slumped over her, holding his weight off of her, but only because it was hot in the room. His thrusts had slowed, but each one still jetted out more come into her.
She snuggled deep into the pillows as he finished, her hips still meeting his, her throat raspy from her cries. She put her hands on his chest and dragged them downward to where they were still joined. To where they’d both come, but Levi was taking his time about it.
When the final thrust had been made, when the final drop had been wrung from him, another roll of thunder, this one further off in the distance, rumbled through the room. Trish put a palm to Levi’s lower belly, dangerously close to where his cock was trying to soften. He grunted but said nothing. He didn’t think he was capable of speaking.
“Is it always like that with you?” she whisp
ered.
He grinned at her. “Yeah.”
She grinned back, her eyes drifting closed. “Then we’ll have to do this often.”
Then she lifted her arms to welcome his weight upon her.
Levi didn’t hesitate and lowered himself over her.
Chapter Fifteen
There was a leak somewhere in the shack. What fucking good was being in Death Valley if it fucking rained?
Olivier grabbed a bloody bucket and headed into the front room. Here the ceiling was patched from other leaks, but this deluge was breaking through the sheetrock. He strode across the floor and slammed the bucket down onto the hardwood. This whole damn shitstorm was driving him insane.
The cage in the back room rattled.
“Olivier!”
He just stopped himself from kicking the bucket across the room. Just. He fisted his long, elegant hands and turned on his heel, back through the kitchen and into the bedroom.
Lucky he’d found this place. Lucky it had been him to find Arnaud. Olivier sure as hell didn’t think anyone else could handle this tricky bastard.
Like right now. Arnaud was projecting a genteel gentleman, sitting in a library, dressed as an early 19th century fancy man. Complete with cravat, high boots, and long jacket. His face was as it always had been, smooth and handsome, high cheekbones, blond hair pulled back in a velvet tie.
“Cut the crap, Arnaud.”
“I don’t want you looking at me,” the fake Arnaud said.
Olivier stared at him out of his empty sockets. Stared until Arnaud dropped the pretense. The image began to crumble at the edges, breaking down and withering to dust. In its place was a bedroom, empty of furniture, but containing one, large, metal cage.
Arnaud crouched in the middle of the cage, his arms and legs sluiced with blood, both cracked and dripping, bite marks on his hands and neck, his face a mass of scratches and blood. His hair, once so blond it was almost white, was a rat’s nest of snarls, tangles, and dried blood.