Chapter 6
KELLAN
No more kissing.
No touching.
Absolutely nothing beyond that—not a damn thing.
It’s probably best that I not be alone with her.
But how the hell can I avoid her when I said she could work out of my clinic?
Gerry shifts between my legs, trying to get comfortable. The only way to get him to keep quiet at night is to let him share the couch with me, and every time I shift, he clucks bloody murder. I press my palm lightly against his speckled back until the protesting subsides.
A crack of thunder rips through the air, sending Gerry into a spastic state of squawks.
“The ladies will never like you if you keep making such a fuss,” I tell him, but mating seems to be the last thing on his mind.
Unfortunately, it’s at the very top of mine.
The clock on the mantel says 1:47 a.m.
She’s probably asleep by now.
Curled in my bed, hair spilling across the pillow, breathing slow and even. I shut my eyes hard, willing the image away.
It doesn’t leave.
How the hell did I let it get to this?
A door creaks, and a sliver of light shines on the wall.
“Kell?”
My heart lurches in my chest at the sound of my name on her lips. “Yeah?”
Footsteps cross the hardwood. She stops a few feet away from the couch. She’s wearing one of my tee-shirts, the hem skimming her bare thighs, and my body goes instantly, helplessly tight with want.
The situation is made worse by her decision not to wear a bra, which is evident by her breasts sitting a little lower on her chest, and the outline of her nipples poking through the thin fabric. A man notices such things.
As if the hint of her breasts weren’t bad enough, the sight of her legs poking out from the stolen shirt turns my brain to jelly.
Lightning flickers white across the windows, lighting her pretty face for half a second, showing me she’s worried.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she says. “It’s the storm.”
Thunder booms, and Gerry launches himself off my lap, settling in a chair that’s tucked under the table.
Greer takes one step closer. Then another. She’s close enough now that I can see the faint tremor in her hands, the way her breath catches when lightning cracks again.
“Kellan.” The way she says my name makes my pulse slam, pumping pure fire through my veins.
I sit up slowly, stretching the soreness from my limbs.
“Go back to bed,” I tell her.
“I can’t. Not when it’s storming like this.”
I lean forward, scrubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands to banish the sleep away. “I can’t have you out here.”
“Why?”
“Because seeing you half-dressed makes me want to rail you into the goddamn floor.” Honesty was probably not the way to go here, but I’m too damn tired and horny to think up a response for polite society, and if my crass words scare her away—good.
“Well, that certainly sounds better than going back to bed alone.”
My head snaps up, eyes locking with hers.
“Stop being so grumpy!” She walks forward three steps, stopping directly in front of me, our legs nearly touching. “I’m more than just Rus’s sister—I’m an adult, my own person, with my own wants and needs.” All at once, she lifts her shirt up, pulls it off her body, and drapes it over my face.
Her scent overwhelms me, and my cock grows painfully hard, becoming impossible to hide in my pajama pants. Which is the last goddamn thing I need right now.
“Greer!” I pull the shirt off. Her breasts fill my vision. Full. Proud. Begging to be pampered. “What are you doing?” My voice is as tortured as my soul.
Her throat jumps when she swallows. “If we both want it, I figured why not? I got on the pill the moment I heard my parents’ plan for me, so there’s no need to worry.
If you still don’t want me, I’ll go back to my room.
But don’t send me away because you think you’re some white knight.
Trust me, you won’t be doing me any favors.
” Her eyes dart to the seat of my pants, and she chuckles.
“And, from the looks of it, you won’t be doing yourself any, either. ”
My hands flex against the couch cushions. Every rational part of me screams to stand up, walk away, lock myself in the damn coop with the chickens.
The rest of me desperately wants to know how it feels to touch a woman again. No. Not just any woman. To touch her.
My fingertips brush her bare skin just above her knee.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away. Just exhales a shaky breath.
My palm slides up the outside of her thigh—slow, deliberate, giving her a chance to stop me.
Instead, her fingers find my jaw, thumb tracing the edge of stubble, tilting my face up so our eyes lock.
Lightning flashes again. She’s so damn beautiful. So damn perfect.
I hook two fingers in the waistband of her thin cotton panties and tug her forward, bringing her full breasts right up against my face.
Good Lord, why must you give me your toughest battles?
With one swift tug, I pull her panties down to her knees as I take one perfect nipple between my teeth and tease it to a stiff point.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she groans, whimpering, “Kellan,” as her fingers dig into my scalp. I feel the tremor in them, how overwhelmed she is by all of this.
Gently, carefully, I bring one arm behind her knees, and the other, her shoulders, and whisk her down onto the couch.
She gives a surprised yelp, followed by a giggle.
I wish I could see her better, more than the outline and muted colors the dim light allows me to see, but I refuse to get off this couch when I have her nearly naked save for the panties stretched at her knees.
I rip them off, feeling more animal than man—feeling hungry.
I plant a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses over her breasts before moving down the soft curve of her stomach, over her belly button, to the short tuft of hair between her thighs. The primal scent of her pussy turns my blood molten, and I have to force myself to slow and savor the moment.
Greer’s head pulls forward, eyes shining in the dark. I slide one arm under her leg, pulling it onto my shoulder. Then I do the same with the other.
“Kellan?”
My cock throbs, pleading with me to bury myself between her silky thighs.
The human in me prevails, and I look up at her, brows lifted, hoping like hell she didn’t just decide she’s in over her head.
“I’ve…never done this before.” I’m sure that if I could see, her cheeks would be a deep shade of crimson.
“You’ve never had your pussy eaten?” I ask, surprised.
She turns her head to the side. “That, or anything.”
I know I should extract myself from the situation and head on over to the chicken coop, storm be damned, but her confession has me leaking pre-cum into my boxers, and I’m too much of a bastard to walk away.
She shivers, legs trembling. “I understand if you don’t want me—”
“Don’t want you?” I snort derisively. “It’s all I can do to stop myself from devouring you.”
She giggles, her muscles relaxing. “Then hurry.”
Her whispered “hurry” strips away my hesitation. I lower my mouth to her seam, slowly at first, giving her time to change her mind, to push me away.
She doesn’t push.
Her thighs tense around my ears as the flat of my tongue drags up the center of her in one long, deliberate stroke.
Greer gasps, her fingers twisting in my hair, keeping me in place. I can’t help but smirk at how greedy she is for me, and I can’t wait to blow her mind.
I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, light pressure, teasing, learning what she responds to. The way her hips jerk when I flick just right. The soft, broken sound she makes when I suck gently. Every hitch in her breathing I commit to memory.
Her whole body bows off the couch, heels digging into my shoulders, pussy pressed to my face.
“Kellan—” Her voice cracks as she says my name.
I slide my tongue inside her—slow, deep—then pull back to lap at her clit again, alternating until her thighs start to shake in earnest.
She’s close already. I can feel it in the way her stomach clenches, the way her breath stutters into little sobs.
I hook my arms under her hips, lift her higher against my mouth, and feast.
Her fingers yank my hair hard enough to sting. “I’m—oh God—I’m—”
She cums as a crack of thunder booms from outside—sudden, loud, and rolling through her in waves as her hips grind against my face, and she gasps my name between broken moans.
I don’t let up until she begs me to, and even then, I hesitate. For just a second.
I kiss the inside of her thighs as I retreat, reveling in the sound of her satisfied sighs.
Greer blinks down at me, dazed. Then a slow, sleepy, victorious smile curves her lips.
I rise to a kneel, and she reaches for me, fingers curling into the waistband of my pajama pants. “Your turn.”
My cock jumps at the suggestion. Painfully.
I catch her wrist before she can tug them down. “Greer.”
She stills, searching my face. “You’re not going to tell me no, are you?”
“I should.”
“But you’re not going to.”
I exhale roughly through my nose. “No. I’m not.”
She yanks down my pants hastily, and my cock jets out, free from its cage.
“Damn,” she mumbles, hooking her legs around my waist as she pulls me down onto her.
I drop my forehead to hers. “You sure?”
Her hands slide up my back, nails dragging lightly. “I won’t be able to focus on my studies until we get this out of the way—you’re too much of a distraction.”
I kiss her—hard, hungry, letting her taste her flavor on my tongue. She arches under me, impatient.
I reach between us and notch the head of my cock against her entrance.
She’s wet. Ready. And all mine.
I push in one slow, careful inch.
Her breath catches.
I freeze. “You okay?”
She nods frantically. “More.”
Another inch. Then another. It takes every ounce of restraint I have left in me not to rail into her tight cunt. A part of me thinks she’d enjoy it. But I’m not about to risk her discomfort for my own animalistic gratification. Besides, there will be other times. She belongs to me now.
I push harder, faster, until I’m fully seated, hips flush with hers.
Greer’s hair is a mess, damp strands clinging to her face, eyes shining with satisfaction. I drop my face into the crook of her neck, breathing hard.
“Fuck, Greer.”
She clenches her pussy around me on purpose, snorting lightly as she pants.
I growl against her skin. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Good,” she murmurs, rolling her hips in a slow circle.
My restraint snaps.
I pull back almost all the way, then thrust back in—harder this time. She cries out, nails raking down my shoulders.
I wind her hair in my hand, making a fist, as I spear into her with long, savage strokes, watching her tits bounce every time I bottom out.
I try to commit every moment to memory. The sound the couch makes creaking under us. Greer’s primal scent—the taste of her still on my tongue. The softness of her flesh, and the heat that envelops me.
She hooks her ankles around my back and moves against me, meeting my thrusts.
I slide a hand between us, thumb finding her clit.
She whimpers an adorably pathetic sound.
“Come for me,” I rasp against her ear. “I want to feel it.”
She cries out, her body tightening, breath hitching—and then she shatters around me, pulsing, milking, pulling me under with her.
I bury myself deep, snarling against her neck, and come so hard, tiny stars burst to life.
We stay locked together, panting, sweat-slick, hearts slamming against each other. Then I gather her against my chest, and roll so that she’s draped half over me on the narrow couch.
The storm’s rage quiets, replaced by the dull pitter-patter of raindrops. Gerry makes a disgruntled cluck from across the room.
Greer snorts into my neck. “Think he’s jealous?”
“Probably.” I stroke her hair. “He’ll get over it, or I’ll send him to the coop.”
She sighs—happy, sated, sleepy, and in this quiet moment, the future doesn’t look so lonely. But it can’t be like this. With her desperate, and needing a safe place to land.
I’ll do whatever it takes to get her on her feet. I’ll help her study, fix her car, and finance whatever career that might interest her.
And when she’s mine—and she will be mine—it won’t be because she has nowhere else to go. It’ll be because I’m the only man that’s ever made her feel at home.