Quinn II (Undaunted Men #2) (4 page)

“I’m still taking her home with me,” I state firmly, my voice full of resolve.

“I understand, but there are other things you’re going to need to know before you do.”
 

“As long as you give me full disclosure then we have a deal,” I pause, a tad reluctant to give the information. “There's a quiet rest area off the beaten path where we can meet in two days. I’ll send you the coordinates tomorrow, along with the time I expect to be there.” It was where I was planning on meeting up with Stryker and Hunter anyway. “And Tony…?”

“Yes, Quinn?”

“Nobody in or out of your little circle is to know my plans, got it? I’m done with surprises.”

“I understand.”

I hang up the phone and look to the stars above, letting out a huge breath. I pray to God I know what I’m doing here. I don’t like the feeling of being kept in the dark, and I sure as hell didn’t like Tony’s tone of voice when he said her situation is complicated.
 

I'm not going to let Vince get another chokehold on her, because that is exactly what will happen if I send her back home. What had taken place under her father's nose, and out here on these trails, only proves my point; Vince has been a very cunning motherfucker. Her dad can't protect her, not the way I can, and when I see him in two days, I'm damn sure going to get my answers...every last one of them.

He shakes his head with determination between my thighs. “Uh-uh, you’ve got at least one more in you. I can feel it,” he rasps, trailing his tongue through the wetness of my sex. Oh God, his deep, sultry voice hums through my core, and my legs quake. He thrusts his cock into my mouth and I moan. There are no words for how good he feels. He’s been a sex machine, not even stopping for a rest after his first orgasm. I should be exhausted. He’s been relentless, but our sexual appetites have been insane.
 

He has me in a sixty-nine position, and what he’s doing with his tongue…oh, lord, I can’t even function, let alone do the one task I’m supposed to do, which is suck him off. His slick length slips from between my lips as I gasp for air. The warmth and strength of his wet and talented tongue thrusts past my slick folds as he swirls it deep inside my silken walls, tasting me with a ravenous hunger. I’ve never been in this position before. It’s wild and erotic, and having sex with Quinn in the great outdoors only adds to the excitement.

Not able to take much more, I grip his muscular thighs, digging my nails into his flesh, and squeeze his legs with all my strength. The sensations have become too much to bear. I try to squirm away, but he’s not having it. He wraps both his arms around my lower back, forcing my sex back down onto his mouth with a vengeance. He sucks hard, drawing every ounce of arousal from my core with a force that has me curling my toes. His mouth is high voltage hot, wet, and sending jolts of electricity through me.

I know I’m being remiss in my duties, but I can’t help it. I couldn’t lick a lollipop right now if I tried. I do manage to wrap my hand around his shaft and stroke him several times. His tongue thrusts in and out of me, and I whimper when he begins alternating between sucking, nibbling, and lapping at my juices in a greedy frenzy.
 

The night’s breeze does nothing to cool my overheated skin. My breathing comes out hard and fast. In one swift movement, he rolls our bodies to the side, and then without warning, thrusts to fingers into my pussy. He draws my clit into his mouth, creating a vacuum. “Oh, God,” I whimper, my head resting against his pelvis. I’m unable to move. He keeps this consistent rhythm going with his fingers, rubbing against my g-spot, and it’s not long before my inner muscles clamp down on his fingers.
 

“Come for me, Angel,” he growls just before he bites down on my clit.

My entire body convulses, an exquisite and indescribable elation rips through me. I cry out my orgasm without restraint and lose the last of my inhibitions. I shamelessly grind against his face as my core spasms around his fingers. He nips at my clit with his teeth, and then gently tugs at it, extending my climax.

I feel as if I’ve just come back from an alternate universe. He’s given me four orgasms, and how he still hasn’t released his second one, I’ll never know. He gently laps at my opening with tender, loving strokes as I breathe in heavy pants, coming back down from my high. When I catch my breath, I realize his still very stiff cock is resting against my cheek, ready and waiting for me to finish.
 

Gladly, I want to undo him like he does me. I nudge his torso, making him lay flat on his back, and change my position so I’m sitting on my knees beside him. I want to watch his face and see his vulnerability as I obliterate his senses.

“I see your shit-eating grin, woman. Whatever you have planned, I already know I’m not going to last but a minute.”

Never removing my eyes from his, I wrap my hand around his slick cock and flick my tongue back and forth over his crown. He lets out a deep groan and lays his head back on the ground in surrender while watching me. Teasing him with what's to come, I open my mouth wide then wrap my lips around him, taking half of his length into my mouth. Willing him to feel the hot warmth of my tongue, I swirl it around the entire circumference of his cock then work it up and over his soft tip. I taste the saltiness he produces, and I lick back and forth over his slit several times, because I just can't get enough. He hisses between his teeth, and it spurs me on.
 

“Shit, Angel,” he murmurs, curling his hands into fists. He throws his head back, closing his eyes as if he's in pain.
 

He's too much for me to swallow whole, so I compensate with my hand and firmly wrap it around his hardness. I stroke him a few times, my hand easily gliding over his swollen length as I flatten my tongue against the underside of his cock, licking his ridges.
 

I force as much of his length as I can into my mouth, and then add a strong suction, just like he did to me. I bob my head up and down, keeping perfect timing with my hand to make sure all of his length has stimulation. He curses underneath his breath again, threading his fingers through my hair as he gently thrusts his hips upward. He's so out of control I can feel his legs tremble. I cradle his balls in my other hand and begin massaging them as I start a furious pace, giving him the best damn blowjob ever.

He’s right; he’s not going to last. I can feel his balls tighten at the same time he gently tugs at the roots of my hair, spurring me on. I let go of his cock and force myself to take in more of his length until I feel his crown hit the back of my throat. When I do, he curses a string of cuss words, loving it, which makes me not want to quit, even though I’m starting to gag. My eyes begin to water, and I focus on breathing through my nose to get past the choking sensation.
 

“Angel, I’m gonna come,” he rasps in warning, and then he does. Warm spurts flow down the back of my throat. “Holy, fuck.” His hips still as he breathes through his climax and shudders. The salty taste and texture get to be too much for me, so I quit swallowing, bathing him in his own juices.
 

When he calms down from his high, I’m left with a mouthful of his semen, and I can’t swallow it. My eyes are watering, and I can’t hold it in any longer. I have to spit it out. I turn to the side and try to be discreet about it. I spit out onto the ground, and then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
 

Quinn sits up and grabs me by the waist. “C 'mere, Baby,” he whispers as he turns me around, wrapping me in his arms. He lays our bodies back down together over our sleeping bags. As he holds me, his fingers thread through my hair, and then he presses my head against his broad chest.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I wanted you to enjoy it.”

“Oh, trust me, I enjoyed it. But I didn’t need you to swallow for me to enjoy what you did.”

“Isn’t that what all men want?” I ask, a little confused.

“Hell, yeah, any living, breathing man loves getting head, sweetheart, but you don’t have to swallow for it to feel different.” He cocks his head to the side, studying me for a moment. “Did you think you had to?”

A subtle blush rushes to the tips of my ears as I admit, “Sort of. I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and sometimes they have me feeling I’d be less of a woman if I didn’t do those things. They talk about it being
salty goodness
and all.” I shyly look at him. A deep chuckle resonates deep from within his chest, and it makes me smile.
 

“They?” he questions.

“Yeah, you know, the characters in those romance books.”

“Salty goodness, huh?” He arches a brow at me, fully amused. “I hadn’t heard that one before.” He laughs again, repeating my words, and then questions, “So let me get this straight. I’m assuming these romance novels you’ve read, every one of those women were always able to swallow it down?” His tone is so jovial and lighthearted I can’t help but giggle.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Suddenly, I feel silly and playful. I begin narrating in a male's voice as if I’m reading from a romance novel, “I thrust my hips forward, pushing my hard cock all the way to the back of her throat. She swallows around my length, and fuck me...I’m about to blow. I grab her by the back of the head, threading my fingers through her hair, forcing her to stay in place as I pump myself deeper, harder, and faster, as I hit the back of her throat with each thrust. Her suction is so strong around my length I can’t hold off any longer. I empty myself while she swallows every last drop like a pro.”

“Oh, my God.” His voice pitches high as he bursts out in a fit of laughter. His chest and shoulders shake profusely as I watch deep dimples form on his cheeks, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. I've never seen him this cracked up; he's hilarious to watch. Once he gets his laughter contained to a few chuckles, he wipes away the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “That’s some funny shit.”

“I will tell you what’s funny. Some of the authors I follow on Facebook, they have rules and a protocols to follow when writing romance. I follow this one editor, who is also an author, and anytime one of her clients does something against the rules, she calls them out on it, and then everybody chimes in with crazy banter.”

“Rules? Such as what?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Well, for one, you should never use the word
moist
to describe a female when she's aroused. Apparently, using the word is a cardinal sin.”

“Mmm,” he smiles, looking down at me, “I’ll take you moist any day, Darlin’. I have no preference.”
 

I snuggle into his warmth, resting my cheek on his shoulder, and close my eyes, allowing his masculinity to surround me. I'm glad he wasn't upset that I couldn’t follow through and swallow. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is like Vince. Not that he abused me sexually, but there were times he’d get so carried away in the moment he didn’t pick up on my distress signals. When I’d panic, he’d push me past my limits, thinking I could handle him. Of course, afterwards, he’d profusely apologize, but sometimes he made me doubt my sexual abilities.
 

I savor Quinn’s touch as he lightly caresses my back with his fingertips. I’m falling hard and fast for him, and it scares me. It unnerves me to the point I almost wish I could’ve escaped him, because I fear for his life if Vince's jealousy catches up to him.

When Quinn gave me his angel pendant, the gesture spoke volumes, but then the reality of him wanting to take me home sunk in. It was simply too much to digest. His mother gave him that angel, and the thought of me being the first and only woman he’s given it to still brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. The fact that he carried it around with him twenty-four-seven tells me he has a sentimental side and a heart of gold. I can see the love and adoration he has for me in his eyes, and at moments, I think he wants to say those three little words, but he refrains. I’m glad he doesn’t say them right now. I’ve had more than enough change thrown my way, a crazy, massive pile of shit actually that will last me a lifetime. I need to take things slow and easy, and to Quinn’s credit, he’s been less intense. Don’t get me wrong. The intensity is still very much there; he's just a little less verbal. Even though he’s giving me some breathing room, his intent is still crystal clear; he wants to take me home with him.

I can say with certainty Quinn reduces my internal stress tenfold. Kimber has been extremely therapeutic, too. When I think about not being with them, I feel an anxiety attack coming on. I haven’t told Quinn I drugged him the night I ran away, and I’m thankful he never pondered the thought long enough to ask me about it. I wrap my arms around his waist and run my fingertips in light, caressing circles along his torso, and drift off to sleep.