Montana Creeds: Tyler (23 page)

She gasped in welcome; her eyes rolled back and closed, and she arched her back. Parted her legs, ready to take him in.

Prim and proper in public, Lily Ryder was another kind of woman altogether in private.

Oh, yeah. He was one
lucky
son of a bitch.

“Damn you, Tyler,” she whimpered, her head still back and her eyes still closed, as he continued to play with her. She was getting wetter by the moment, and he could feel her expanding to accommodate him. “
Take me
. I've been waiting for this since—Oh God—” Her
hips bucked high off the bed of blankets, but Tyler kept pace with her. Withdrew his hand when he felt the first quivering flex of a climax close around his fingers.

She made a strangled sound of frustration and brewing fury. “Don't tease,” she pleaded.

“Lady, I'm going to tease you within an inch of your life,” Tyler vowed gruffly. “And then I'm going to tease you some more.”

“Just this once, Ty—
please—
”

Slowly, he stroked the insides of her thighs, enjoying the silken tremor he stirred beneath her flesh with every light pass of his fingertips.

“I can
make
you want me, you know,” she sputtered, trying to sit up and then falling back again, with a long, low groan, as he intensified his efforts.

“Oh, I already want you,” Tyler assured her. “No question about that. But I'm a patient man. I can wait until you beg—and for a long time after that.”

Her eyes widened and sparked fire in the moonlight. The goddess was purely pissed off now, and Amazon-strong. She caught hold of him with one hand and stroked, and he did some groaning of his own.

When she went down on him, he gave a strangled shout, buried his hands in her hair, meant to lift her away but held her to him instead.

She was greedy, took him into the back of her throat, then tongued him until he was literally blind with need. Just when he would have let go, he managed to gather enough willpower to raise her off him, but just barely.

He sat there, on his haunches, all the blood in his
body pulsing in his pecker. He gasped, struggling for breath, still holding Lily's head in his hands.

The temptation to let her finish was almost overwhelming.

Almost, but not quite.

“Is that enough foreplay for you, Tyler?” she challenged.

“Not—even—close,” he ground out. He used the last of his strength to roll onto his back, catching her by the waist and bringing her with him. She wound up right where he wanted her—straddling his face.

He used his tongue to burrow through to her clitoris, flicked at her.

She cried out his name, began to move in an involuntary, instinctive rhythm, as old as the bright moon shining down on both of them. He gripped her hips, keeping pace, took her full in his mouth and sucked.

Until he knew she was about to come.

Then he lifted her off him. Breathed his way back from wherever he'd been, the taste of her still on his lips.

“Please,” she whispered, after a tremor of what must have been rage went through her, a little earthquake following a fault line deep inside her. “Oh God, Tyler,
please!
”

“You're going to have to do better than that,” he murmured, and kissed and nibbled at the insides of her thighs, slick with wanting now, tiny muscles rippling under the skin, until she sagged back onto him.

He gave her another ride, this one even wilder than the last, but stopped just short of letting her come unwound.

Not that she'd be satisfied with one orgasm, no matter how ferocious it was—he knew that much about Lily, though a lot of other things were still a tantalizing mystery. Oral sex didn't sate her, it only increased her need. She was a woman who needed to be rode hard and put away wet.

With Lily, sex was anything but tentative. The harder, faster and deeper, the better.

She might come a hundred times, but until he drove into her, until he gave her what she wanted, with no holding back, every flick of his tongue and touch of his fingers would only make her want him more.

No matter how many times they were together, Tyler realized, with a kind of crazy, beleaguered joy, it would always be that way.

They could get married and have a houseful of kids.

They could raise those kids and turn gray-haired and stiff in the joints.

And even after all that, when he laid Lily down, she'd still want it X-rated, just the way she did tonight.

The knowledge did something new to Tyler, changed the whole terrain of his mind and his body and his soul. Again.

“Marry me, Lily,” he heard himself say, even as he nuzzled at her, ready to let her go over the top this time. Then, more raggedly, “Marry me?”

“Yes,” she choked out.
“Yes!”

“Yes, you'll marry me, or yes, you like what I'm doing to you right now?” He made a slow circle around her clitoris with his tongue, causing her to give another throaty cry. “Which is it, Lily?”

“It's—
oh, dear God
—it's both!
Tyler
—”

He sent her over the edge then. Held her hips while she bucked, convulsing, alternately whimpering and yelling his name.

When she'd finally finished, and spent several minutes getting her breath back, she shifted onto her back, lay trembling on the blankets beside him, and said what he'd known she'd say.

He did what she asked, what she
commanded
him to do.

And they'd repeated the whole scenario at least three times before he remembered the condoms he'd brought along.

Hell of a lot of good they were doing in the glove compartment of his truck, he reflected happily, still in the throes of a kind of satisfaction he'd never known with any woman but Lily.

 

W
OBBLY-KNEED
,
Lily finally recovered enough to reach for the dress she'd discarded so readily earlier in the evening. She examined it carefully, was relieved to see it didn't need to be laundered again, and smoothed the fabric with the palms of both hands, once again embarrassed by the shameless way she'd carried on while Tyler was loving her.

Tyler curled a finger under her chin, made her look at him.

“Promise me something,” he said.

Her lower lip trembled, and tears burned in her eyes. “What?”

“That you'll never change.”

She blinked, bit her lower lip, not knowing what to say.

Tyler went on. “I like the way you act when we make love, Lily. I like the things you say and the noises you make and the way you ride me like you're going for a world championship on the wildest bronc ever to come out of the chute.”

Lily's brain was fogged. None of the circuits were connecting.

I like the way you act when we make love…

He'd said “make love.” Did that mean anything?

She continued to grope her way toward some kind of normalcy, but neither her mind nor her body wanted to cooperate. He'd asked her to marry him earlier—or had she just imagined that in the heat of passion?

“Lily?” Tyler prompted, one corner of his mouth tilted up in a grin so sultry it fell just short of being cocky. He reached for his jeans while he waited for her to answer, put them back on. But he was still bare-chested, and the moonlight played in his ebony hair.

“I've never done w-what I did to—
with
you—”

Tyler chuckled, found her panties and her bra and gave them to her. “It was good, Lily,” he told her. “
Really
good.”

She absorbed that, pleased and at the same time even more embarrassed than before. Got into her panties and her bra and pulled the dress back on. Smoothed it anxiously when she got to her feet.

Tyler, still kneeling on the blankets, eased the hem of that dress up to the top of her thighs, hooked a finger at
the waist of her panties, and pulled them down again. Fondled her.

Lily moaned and moved her feet apart by a fraction of an inch. “Tyler—”

“Once more for the road,” he said. “Tilt your head back a little, so I can see the moonlight on your face….”

He slid his fingers inside her.

She tightened around him, quivered as he awakened all those needs all over again.

His thumb made gentle revolutions around her slick, pleasure-swollen clitoris.

“Oh,”
she whimpered. She thought her knees would give out, but she was already climbing—climbing. “Tyler—”

“Shh,” he said, raspy-voiced, looking up at her, watching every change of expression as the surrender began, softly this time. Oh, yes, this time, it was soft—soft and slow and infinitely sweet. “Let it happen, Lily. Just let it happen.”

She threw back her head.

“Look at me,” Tyler told her.

She obeyed. She would have obeyed practically any order he gave her, under the circumstances. Done anything for the precious release she craved.

A faint gasp escaped her as she caught on a silky, dreamlike climax, as she flowed with it, flexed with it, let it carry her along like some velvet river.

When it was over, she would have collapsed if Tyler hadn't grasped her hips again, the way he had so many times that night, and held her upright.

Once he was standing, facing her, he kissed her lightly on the mouth.

“You're in no condition to drive,” he told her, when he drew back. “So we're spending the rest of the night at the cabin.”

“Okay,” Lily said, leaning into him, letting him slip a strong arm around her waist and guide her to the passenger side of his truck. “But what about Davie?”

“He's at Logan and Briana's for the night,” Tyler answered, hoisting her onto the seat and buckling her in. A grin played on his mouth. “Kit Carson will be around, but he's discreet.”

Lily giggled, put a hand over her mouth and burst into tears.

She'd felt too much, and she was about to feel more.

Could she stand it, after years and years of holding it all in?

She was practically a puddle now. What kind of shape would she be in if she spent the rest of the night in Tyler Creed's bed? What if he played with her until she went stone-crazy, like he had on those blankets under the tree, making her come again and again but withholding what she needed most until she was too weak even to beg?

Evidently reading her face, Tyler chuckled. He looked like some cowboy Adonis, standing there in the moonlight, naked from the waist up and soft-eyed with satisfaction. Already, though, some new mischief was brewing in those impossibly blue eyes.

“Relax,” he said. “The night is young.”

That was what she was afraid of.

She was wrung out, spent. She didn't have another orgasm in her—she would have been superhuman if she had.

Still grinning, Tyler left her long enough to put his shirt and boots on, collect the blankets and her purse, bring them back to the truck. All the while, she sat there like a lump, sated into a near stupor.

And yet that tiny, magical muscle was awakening again.

Getting ready.

“Did you ask me to marry you?” she inquired, as they were jostling over country roads toward his lake place.

“Yeah,” Tyler answered, reaching over to lay a hand on her knee and slide it slowly, skillfully up under her dress, along her bare thigh. “And you said yes.”

“I thought so,” Lily said. She should push his hand away, she knew she should, but it felt too good, resting on her skin, just short of her panties.

He laughed.

Lily knew he was seducing her, slowly and surely, that she'd be lucky to make it as far as the man's bed before he had her acting like a hussy again. But there was no resistance in her, anywhere.

Tyler had untied all the knots inside her.

And he was tying them back up again, moment by moment.

Lily struggled for balance.

He hadn't said he loved her, she reminded herself.

Maybe he never would.

Would that matter?

Eventually, it probably would, she decided, enjoying the weight and warmth of his hand, squirming a little, needing to be touched where he wasn't quite touching. But that night, it didn't.

Much.

There was always the danger, of course, that she'd blurt out the words—
I love you, Tyler—
in the throes of some violent orgasm.

Maybe he'd say them back to her.

And maybe he'd pretend he hadn't heard.

“Where will we live?” she asked, as they turned into his driveway. Her practical side was
trying
to reassert itself, though obviously without much success.