Lumberjack Weekend(Divine Creek Ranch 21)(50)

“Yes,” he whispered before grasping her rounded ass cheeks. He lifted her, and pressed her against the luxurious wood paneling, his rock-hard erection nestling against her pussy as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I’m too heavy,” she whispered.

“I’m strong, love.” He grinned and then plunged in again, seeming to delight in leaving her a breathless wreck.

“I’m strong, too. Heavier than I look…” She lost track of what she was saying as he flexed his hips and rubbed his cock against her clit, making her pussy clench with need.

“I can handle you,” he murmured as his lips left a damp trail on her jaw and sought the sensitive flesh beneath her ear.

She gasped and clenched against him as waves of pleasure took her to the edge of rapture. Something about the way he kissed and gently suckled that skin made her hyper-reactive to him. He was like Kryptonite to her, and she needed to remember that.

As if he understood how close she was to the edge, he drew the moment out, growling softly as he nuzzled that area and then switched to the other side while gently rocking against the throbbing place between her thighs.

“I love the sweet, aroused sounds you make, fiammetta. I want to hear what you sound like when you come undone.”

“No. I can’t. I’m—”

“You can,” he whispered as he drove her to the precipice, the ripples of impending orgasm undeniable. “You will. Do it for me, little flame.”

He pressed hot kisses down her throat and closed his teeth over the tender flesh there, not hard but enough that she obeyed his primal demand. The climax erupted within her, washing away her inhibitions as she cried out and sobbed. She rocked against him as the waves of pleasure washed over her, leaving her weak and trembling.

“Master?” a female voice called from the bottom of the stairs, beyond the landing they’d just passed.

Reality descended as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head in a practical joke. She pressed her lips together, trying to mute the remnants of her pleasure as Joseph cursed softly.

“Yes?”

“We’re assembled and waiting for you, Master,” the female voice called out. A muted conversation followed below and then the sound of high heels echoing on the stairs until a blonde head came into view. Joseph cursed again as he released Bunny, and she struggled to stand on wobbly legs. The woman caught sight of them, in flagrante on the staircase, but no trace of reaction showed on her lovely, cultured face. In a low, respectful voice, she said, “Sorry to…interrupt, Sir.” Not the same voice as moments before.

Joseph glanced at his watch, and his jaw worked as if he was gritting his teeth. “I’ll be a few minutes longer, Mona. Please go back downstairs and, if anyone asks, tell them I will be down shortly. I need to tend to Miss Carrigan’s injury first.”

“May I be of service, Sir?”

He gazed at Bunny with regret in his eyes. Not what she’d fantasized about seeing there if he ever kissed her. Of course he regretted it. She wasn’t the type of woman he was attracted to. She’d heard through the grapevine that he preferred blondes like the tall one offering assistance.

Joseph interrupted her inner thoughts by carefully tipping her scraped chin up. “I do need to get down to my guests.”

She inched back from him. “I understand completely.”

The trace of a frown knit his brows as he gazed at her with those implacable eyes and he said, “Possibly not. Can I trust you not to argue with me right now? To allow Mona to take you upstairs to treat that cut?”

She scoffed, “It’s nothing,” and then hissed as she touched it and it throbbed. Her fingers came away red.

“You’re bleeding. A little cleaning and bandaging is all it needs. Please?”

Bunny nodded, and Mona drew closer. Her manner was unobtrusive, but Bunny still resented the interruption. How embarrassing to think Mona had probably heard her caterwauling and setting up a ruckus as she came like some hussy against the staircase paneling. Shame filled her at the sight she must’ve made, the way she must’ve sounded. With one steely gaze and skills probably honed on one thousand women or more, he’d conquered her will to keep him at arm’s length.

Joseph stroked her shoulder as he stepped back, but he captured her gaze and murmured, “We’re not done, Bunny.”

She drew a breath of fresh air and realized she’d been holding hers. A smile flickered on her face, but she schooled it. He’d used her first name for the first time, and it somehow sounded…different rolling off his tongue. Self-conscious couldn’t begin to describe how her name had often made her feel, as if she should be waitressing in a truck stop diner, popping bubble gum, and saying things like “Kiss my grits!” But spoken in Joseph’s growly tone, it made her feel like prey to his predator, and by jiminy, there was a part of her ready to be hunted—hard.