Ace's Wild (30 page)

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Authors: Sarah McCarty

BOOK: Ace's Wild
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“My pleasure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

P
ET
HELD
IT
together for ten seconds after the door closed. It was longer than Ace had expected. She was submissive but lost. Somewhere along the way, she’d learned giving in meant failure, and fight meant survival. He stroked his fingers through her hair, untangling a snarl. But she was here, determined to give him what he needed. Even if she did think he needed it all at once.

“Look at me, Pet.”

She did, albeit slowly. Suspiciously. The nervousness in her gaze didn’t upset him. It was to be expected. This was the beginning. She had a lot to learn about him. He had a lot to learn about her. The only difference was he was looking forward to the experience, whereas she was worried about what it would be. His proud independent I’ll-believe-it-when-I-see-it woman was taking him on faith. He stroked his thumb over her plump lower lip. He’d never been given a more precious gift.

“I’m not going to turn into a monster, you know.”

She licked her lips, leaving them a shining temptation.

“I know.”

He couldn’t resist. On a murmured “Do you?” he took a kiss. Just a small one to carry him through the conversation. Her lips were soft and sweet. The tiny gasp tempting. Later he’d push her, test her, stretch her boundaries, but right now, this time, the first time, he just wanted to cherish her. Let her see what she meant to him. What it meant to be his woman on the most elemental of levels.

“I’ve waited a long time for you, Petunia Wayfield. Not anyone else. Not someone else. Or you as everyone else.” He kissed her again a bit longer this time, relishing the flutter of her response. “You. As you are.” He touched the pad of his thumb to her lip, feeling her focus in her sudden stillness. “Never doubt that.”

She blinked the way she did when she was absorbing something. Grazing her cheek with his lips, he whispered against the lobe of her ear. “I know who you are, my Pet. Beneath everything, I see you.”

He drew back. Panic flashed in her gaze.

He shook his head and pressed. “And I like what I see.”

She sighed instead of blinking this time. Her breath wafted over his hand in a moist caress. “Why won’t you just tell me what you want from me?”

“Because I don’t know yet.”

She actually tried to take a step back. He stopped her with the slightest of pressure against her nape. “No.”

She halted at the order. That, he liked. “This isn’t the end, Pet. It’s our beginning.”

Leaning back, she cocked her head. A little of the tension left her expression, and some of the impossible, lovable, tilting-at-windmills adventurer returned. “So you’re gambling on us?”

“I’m making a very calculated bet.”

“But still gambling.”

So maybe he was. He lifted her chin with his thumb. “I don’t give a shit.” He’d prepared his whole life for this moment.

“Because you think you always win?”

It was his turn to smile. “Because I always win.”

Her lips compressed wryly. “That wasn’t what I said.”

“It’s what I heard.”

She huffed. The amusement spread inside like rays of sunshine. “Is this what it’s going to be like?”

He turned her slightly to the right. “Maybe.”

She resisted. “Maybe?”

“A gambler doesn’t tip his hand as easily as he tips his hat.”

“You’re not a gambler.”

He turned her a bit more. “Of course I am.”

“You’re bored and frustrated, and the gambling alleviates that somewhat, but I suspect keeping you amused is not its main purpose.”

“You do, huh?”

“I do.”

He took a step forward, inching her back toward the bed. And she went, smooth as silk, that busy mind of hers consumed with reasoning rather than observing. He might have to work on her focus in the future. Then again, he decided as she mindlessly followed his lead, maybe not, because he could see that distraction being as useful in the future as it was now. The soft press of her thigh against the inside of his had his cock jerking in his pants, and the pull of the nightgown across her breast had it throbbing. Just the thought of her sprawled on that bed, thighs open and eager accepting, his for the taking—that had his heart pounding.

“Explain.” He wanted her distracted just a little bit longer. Two steps to be exact.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Nothing new on that.”

“About you.”

“Should I be hurt, or I should be flattered?”

“Neither.” Her pale amber brows pleated in a slight frown. “You should be looking smug, because I’m feeling a little bit embarrassed that I didn’t see this earlier.”

One step down. One more to go. “Oh?”

“Your whole life everyone thought you were good, and then all of a sudden you just become dissolute...?”

The backs of her legs hit the foot of the bed. “Oh!”

“Pet, I was and am a coldhearted son of a bitch.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Figures.” As he slid his hand across her cheek, the silk of her hair tangled around his fingers. He made a fist, anchoring them both. Him to her. Her to him. “And what did you deduce?”

He pulled her head back just a little, giving her that subtle tension that made her breath catch. Her lips parted. A soft little sigh escaped her control. He liked that and all the other telltale signs that said while her brain was working on one level, the rest of her was vividly aware of him. Woman to his man. Heart to his heart. Her nipples peaked beneath the thin muslin of her gown, tenting the fabric in greeting. If he turned her, he’d see their shadow through the light material. But he didn’t need to turn her. His imagination was enough. He could see the pale pink of her rising for his mouth. Hardening at his breath. Inside, those rays of sunlight changed to fissions of lightning, recklessly flashing, arcing from him to her and then back again. Her breath caught. So did his. Lust blended with power. Desire with want. Strength with strength. Her gaze locked with his.

“Well?” he prompted.

She blinked. Her eyes dropped to his mouth. “It’s an act. A way to get information.”

“I’m a damn good gambler.” He touched the inside of her leg with his outer thigh. They instinctively separated, making a place for him. He smiled. He did like her instincts.

“That just makes things easier,” she finished on an airy squeak.

He hummed a noncommittal agreement.

Her breath was coming harder, pushing her breasts against the fabric. Small round mounds topped with hard peaks silky to the touch, warm. He wanted to see them. “Untie your nightdress.”

She swallowed delicately. Her fingers came up to the ribbons. He liked that she began unlacing them immediately without quibbling, doing what he wanted with sensual obedience.

“Thank you.”

She smiled. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

She was still on the other. “You’re many things. Smart, sexy, intelligent—” He lost his voice the second she pushed the gown off her shoulder letting the material slide down her soft white skin until it caught on her pert little nipples. He waited her for her to push it the rest of the way, but apparently, she’d learned a thing or two because instead of pushing, she let her fingers linger as she glanced at him from under her lashes. A siren all too willing to lure him to his downfall. And he was all too willing to go, but not to his death. They both knew this wasn’t death. This was life, a gift he never thought to receive. With a jerk of his chin he indicated the precariously clinging fabric. “You stopped a little soon there.”

“Did I?”

It was a challenge. An invitation. His cock went rock hard. He did like her like this. “You angling for a spanking?”

He didn’t miss the widening of her eyes. “Nope, though I think I probably wouldn’t object to one if you gave it to me.”

“So what are you angling for?”

Her smile turned sultry. “For you to do it yourself.”

He’d be more than happy to, but first, “Ask me nicely.”

“Please.”

“Good girl.”

His finger teased the edge of the material, tracing over her arm. Goose bumps sprang up immediately and so did his lust. The muslin quivered with the next breath. And his breath caught in the next as she shivered, but that fabric stubbornly refused to fall. Damn it. “You, my Pet, are too smart for your own good. And yes, you’re right.” That fabric had to give soon. “What tipped you off that I might not be all gambler?”

“The assayer job. It makes no sense for a gambler to take a job as an assayer. But it makes complete sense for an officer of the law to keep an eye on the claims around here.”

He retraced his path up over her collarbone, coming to rest on the pulse. “I’m Hell’s Eight.”

“What does that mean?”

He thought back to those days. “I fought with Hell’s Eight. I buried my family with Hell’s Eight. I learned with Hell’s Eight. I prospered with Hell’s Eight. I owe them everything.”

“They’re your priority.”

He shook his head. “They’re my family.” She had a lot to learn. “You’re my priority.”

He leaned in just a little farther, just enough to send her off balance. She tumbled back, catching her weight on her hands. The mattress dipped. Her breasts pushed up, and he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect invitation. “Now, that I like.”

She frowned at his murmur. He knew she wanted to pursue the discussion, but he didn’t. Everything he wanted was right before him. Sweet, willing woman, ripe with passion, the delicate lines of her body displayed to perfection, her legs spread for his pleasure. Running his nail over one taut peak, he chuckled as she jerked. If he hadn’t caught her with a hand in the small of her back, she would have collapsed.

But again, no complaints. Draped over his arm she was elegant temptation. “Stay just like that.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“But you will.”

Her “What makes you so sure” came out as a breathy challenge. So different from before. This was play, not resistance.

“Because it makes me happy.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that but a huff, which he ignored. They both knew she wanted him happy. It was her nature and pleasure. His blessing. The fine muslin between her legs caught on her mound. He could make out the lips of her vulva. He wanted to kneel between and taste her. Hell, he wanted to start at the top and just work his way down, tasting the cream of her orgasms and the salt of her pleasure and then when he’d had his fill, work his way back up again. He couldn’t get enough of her, probably never would. She challenged his mind and his senses. She was ecstasy in female form. She was a...gift. A moment of divine intervention. She was...his Pet.

Grabbing the front of her gown, he tore it open. Her cry filled his ears as the pure lissome beauty of her form sent a growl to his throat. “Don’t move.” Grabbing the material lower down, he tore it again, revealing her dainty pussy and the trembling in her thighs.

Cupping the plump inside curve of the right one, he asked, “You’re trembling. Scared?”

He had to be sure.

“I’m excited.”

Her voice trembled as much as her legs. “Good.”

“Easy for you to say.”

That prompted a chuckle. “Yeah, it is. Spread your legs farther.” She did but it wasn’t wide enough. He wanted her fully open, completely accessible. Vulnerable. He knelt. “More.”

Down the length of her body, she glared at him. “That’s as far as they go.”

Testing the tension along the inside he guessed it was. “We’ll work on that.”

“We will?”

Giving her thigh a light smack and a push, he nodded. “We will.”

She didn’t have much to say to that but it could have been because his lips were where his hand had been, and she went still. Very still. Her scent teased him. Womanly. Spicy. He needed to know how she tasted. It was his right.

She shifted her feet.

This time he tapped the outside of her thigh. “Did I tell you to move?”

“No.”

He waited.

Her “For heaven’s sake” made him smile. The play of muscles in her thighs as she returned her feet back to their original position made him moan. She was exquisitely made. Delightfully tuned to his senses. As he set his teeth against the soft flex, another “For heaven’s sake” burst out. What the exclamation lacked in heat it made up for in anticipation. The woman might be nervous but she was more fire than trepidation. And it was that fire that drew him. In and out of bed.

Turning his head, he kissed the inside of the thigh, taking the soft flesh and sucking it gently. Her nails scratched against the quilt.

“I can’t stay like this if you’re going to do that.”

He was going to do a hell of a lot more than that. He could see the first beads of moisture in the fine pale hair between her legs. She was aroused. So was he. Parting the puffy outer lips with his finger he found more of that thick cream. With slow circles that mimicked the rhythm of his tongue he spread it outward, covering the pink flesh until she glistened from the inside out. Her thighs trembled. The stress of her position was taking its toll, but more so than that was the anticipation of his touch and the knowing that he was looking at her. Nothing made a woman more emotionally vulnerable, more physically sensitive than knowing all her secrets were exposed. “You’ll stay, what’s more, you will enjoy it.”

The quilt pulled up as she gathered it in her fists. “It? What’s it?”

Slipping another finger in with the first, he parted her, revealing the flange of flesh concealing the prize he sought. He leaned in and with the utmost delicacy licked that spot once. Twice. The third time, he let his tongue linger. He took her moan as his cue to apply more pressure, circling and lapping, bringing forth more of what he craved.

“Ace!”

“Right here.”

He would always be there for her.

Her body tensed. Her thighs quivered. She tasted of the sweetest nectar. She tasted of future promise, of growth, of dreams coming true. He couldn’t get enough. He licked faster, driving her higher. Her body shook. He couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. With a growl he lifted her legs over his shoulder, holding her up for his pleasure with a hand under her hips. The other he used to spread her wider before pulling the protective skin back from her clit. This time when he wiggled his tongue, her scream echoed in his ears. Her fingers grabbed at his hair.

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