7. Lottie
Chapter 7
Lottie
Quinn lowers me to my feet beside the bed, and his mouth crashes into mine, turning my brain to mush. There’s only his breath on my face, his scent engulfing me, and his hot tongue licking into my mouth. I moan at the taste of him, a taste I’ve revisited every night in my dreams since our first kiss in my office.
My body roars to life, demanding to be touched, demanding more of these sensations swirling inside me. I want him naked, skin against skin, nothing between us but heated air.
Clothing is wrenched from our bodies by desperate fingers. The rasp of a lowered zipper and the thud of steel-toed boots. The ping of blouse buttons on the hardwood floor as they’re ripped from their moorings, and the clink of a discarded bra hitting with the lamp on the bedside table. Before I know it, we’re both naked.
Quinn steps back as we take each other in. God, he’s beautiful. If I thought he looked good with his clothes on, nothing could have prepared me for him in all his naked glory. He’s burly rather than cut, all thick muscles, strong thighs, and heavy bone structure. A sprinkling of dark hair covers his wide chest, arrowing down his stomach. It thickens around the base of his cock, which angles up toward his stomach. The skin is stretched tautly over his length and girth, darker than the rest of him. It twitches as I look at him, and my eyes fly to his.
The heat in his molten gaze almost incinerates me on the spot. He’s been doing some looking of his own while I’ve been drinking my fill of him. And if the lust painting his features is any indication, he loves what he sees. He’s not at all put off by my less-than-perky boobs, my stomach pooch, or my jiggly thighs. I stand proud, resisting the urge to cover myself, letting him see me, flaws and all.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Every goddamn inch of you,” he rasps, his eyes telling me the truth of his words. He’s not paying lip service because it’s what he should say—he means it.
“You are too,” I whisper, moving closer until only a few inches separates us. “Strong, solid, beautiful inside and out.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and his eyes search mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. “Christ, what did I do to deserve you?” he asks roughly, a touch of vulnerability in his voice. “You're everything I've ever wanted.”
I don’t get the chance to answer because he’s lifting me and tossing me onto the bed. I bounce once, twice before his delicious weight descends on me, and I sigh as my soft flesh welcomes his hard contours.
Quinn’s hands map me greedily, discovering me, skating over my shoulders, shaping my waist, gliding over my hips and up my belly to cup my breasts and pinch my nipples.
His mouth joins the dance in burning kisses while his hands rove fast, slow, firm, and soft until my mind and body are overloaded with sensation. He’s everywhere, his hot tongue at my belly button, his fingers digging into my ass and thighs as my sighs and his growls permeate the air around us.
A frustrated whimper leaves my throat. His hands and mouth are everywhere except the one place I want them. Need them. “Quinn, please.”
His eyes meet mine in a flash of glazed silver. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“You’re not… doing it right,” I huff, bucking my hips.
He smirks. “Oh, I’m doing it exactly right.”
“Do you need directions? Can you not find my…Oh!”
My question is cut off as his thumb grazes over my nipple. “Find your what, sweetheart?”
I open my thighs wider to give the torturing bastard a clue, but he ignores me, his mouth lazily exploring my stomach, hips, and thighs—everywhere but where I need him.
“How can you torture me like this? You’re the sheriff. An officer of the law. It’s not right. It’s—Oh, god!”
My back arches as he buries his head between my thighs and swipes his tongue through my slick folds. And then he flattens his tongue against my clit.
“Oh, fuck,” I whimper. My hips rise, and I clumsily hitch a leg over his shoulder.
“Still think I need directions, sweetheart?” His question rumbles against my over-sensitized flesh.
I clench my hands on the bedding at my sides. “N-no. That’s so good. Please, don’t stop.”
“Not planning to. Not until you’ve come all over my face.”
I close my eyes and simply feel as his warm mouth continues its exquisite work. Sensation courses through my veins like liquid gold. It flows from my toes and fingers to my breasts before pooling in a hot, heavy whirlpool in my core, right where his mouth is…
Quinn stops.
My approaching orgasm swirls in place, not rising or subsiding.
Panting, I raise my head, meeting his wicked eyes. “Don’t stop! You can’t?—”
I choke on my words as Quinn slowly licks his thumb. He holds my gaze as he lowers it and presses it firmly to my clit. I buck, crying out with need. Then his mouth, his beautiful, hot, wet mouth, is on me again, his tongue swishing relentlessly over my bundle of nerves.
My body arches forward as my orgasm bursts over me in hot waves, rippling over every inch of my skin. I cry out, fisting my hands in his hair, riding out the pleasure as he continues to lap at me.
Seconds—or is it minutes?—later, I collapse onto the mattress, my heart thundering behind my ribs, my core still pulsing with delicious aftershocks. I’m vaguely aware of Quinn extricating himself from my quivering legs and looming over me.
I bite my lip as his hard cock brushes my belly. Bending my knees, I press them against his hips. “Please, Quinn. I need you inside me.”
A flush stains his cheekbones as he hovers over me. “Shit. I don’t have protection.”
“I’m clean,” I huff, hooking my legs around the backs of his thighs, urging him forward. “And I’m on the pill.”
“I’m clean, too, sweetheart. Haven’t been with anyone for”—he shakes his head—“Christ, almost a decade. I’m out of practice,” he admits gruffly.
My eyes widen. “If this is you out of practice, I may not survive when you’re back to full form.”
He grins and lowers his head, kissing me slowly, tenderly. “You ready, love?”
I nod, my heart pounding. “Yes, please.”
I curl my hands over his shoulders as Quinn reaches between us, fisting his cock. I jerk and moan as he rubs the head between my folds, lubing himself up with my juices. Pressing the broad head against my entrance, he drives home with one slick thrust.
For a split second, sparks of pure lust pulse beneath my skin.
And then…
It burns. I tense against the intense fullness. I’m stretched to capacity. My cry of pain is muffled against Quinn’s neck, but he hears. And stops. His muscles bunch beneath my fingers, and an agonized snarl rips from his throat as he pulls back to look at me.
“No, Lottie. Sweetheart, no. You’re a virgin?”
I grit my teeth against the discomfort and summon a smile. “Was.”
“You should’ve told me,” he says hoarsely. “I would’ve been gentle. Fuck, you deserve better than this.”
He starts to pull away, but I tighten my thighs around his hips. “Don’t you dare, Quinn. Don’t you dare leave me. This is my choice. You are my choice. This is exactly what I deserve. What I want. Because it’s with you.”
He cups my jaw, his thumb beneath my chin, tilting my head back so our eyes meet. “What about my fingers on your pussy? Was that the first time, too?”
“Yes.”
“And my mouth?”
“Only you, Quinn.”
He swallows audibly and drops his forehead to mine. “All your firsts with me. There’s so much I want to do to you. With you.”
I stroke my fingers over his stubbled cheek and wriggle beneath him. “So what are you waiting for? It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Quinn palms my breast, his thumb stroking my nipple. He groans as I clench around him. His head sinks into the pillow next to my head. “Christ, don’t do that, sweetheart. I’m hanging on by a thread here.”
My hand moves to his lower back, tracing the divots at the base of his spine. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Fuck,” he pants. “Give me a second. Be a good girl, and don’t move.”
Be a good girl. I grit my teeth at his words. God, I want to be his good girl. I try to do as he says. I try not to move. But he feels so large and foreign inside me, and I clench around him involuntarily.
“Fuck, Lottie,” he grunts.
I look between us as he pulls out halfway and grips the base of his cock, leaving just the tip inside. But he’s fighting a losing battle. His face twists with pleasure, head thrown back, jaw clenched. A harsh shout leaves his throat as he shudders and spills inside me.
And spills, and spills until it overflows between us .
I watch every moment, utterly spellbound. It’s as if he’s in the throes of a release that transcends mortal pleasure.
When it’s over, and Quinn finally opens his eyes, he looks devastated.
“Fuck,” he curses, his hand cupping my face, his expression tortured. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop?—”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not. Watching you was incredible.” I turn my head, pressing a kiss to his palm.
The small gesture seems to unlock something inside him because he’s suddenly kissing me, long, hard, and deep, his tongue mating with mine.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away, Sunshine,” he says, apologizing again. “I was a fucking idiot.”
“Yeah, you were,” I state. “Don’t do it again, or I’ll give you a wet willy and stick your head in a fart jar.”
His laughter is free and unrestrained. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”
“I know. It’s hard being this perfect.” I grin, then wince as he slips out of me. “I need to, um, clean up,” I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
“Want some help?”
I shake my head, my blush deepening at the thought of him seeing the mess between my thighs. “No, I’m good.”
“Okay. I’ll check on the little guy,” he offers, retrieving his boxers and pulling them on. I almost weep as they conceal his muscular buttocks from my greedy eyes.
“I have the ‘Sleep Spy,’” I say, pointing to the device on the bedside table I purchased when Aiden came to live with me. I flush when I see it’s partially covered by my discarded bra.
Quinn quirks an eyebrow. “You mean the baby monitor?”
I shrug, giving him a sheepish grin.
He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I’ll just poke my head around his door.”
Could this man be any more perfect? It’s clear he wants to see Aiden is okay for himself. His thoroughness and attention to detail are why I like him so much. Like? I’m on the slippery slope to something that feels a whole lot bigger than like.
Pulling on my robe, I quickly clean up in the adjoining bathroom, noticing the smear of blood mixed with Quinn’s cum as I wipe between my legs. My flesh is tender, but as first times go, I wouldn’t change it for the world.
We said this was for tonight, but that was before we were intimate. I want more than one night with my growly sheriff. But what does he want? Will he leave now we’ve done the deed? This is all new to me, so I have no “after-sex etiquette” to fall back on. I only know I want him to stay.
My question is answered as I reenter the bedroom. Quinn is lounging naked on the bed, waiting for me. He opens his arms when he sees me. I take a moment to drink in all that taut golden skin and beautiful masculinity before ditching my robe.
Quinn drags me onto his chest, his arms locked around me. He steals a kiss and then says, “Aiden is sleeping peacefully. He looks so innocent.”
I nod and sigh. “I don’t know how anyone could harm a defenseless child.”
Quinn’s laugh is bitter. “Believe me, it happens all the time.”
I pull back to look at him. “Is that what happened to you?” I ask softly.
His face closes up, and I expect him to shut the conversation down, so I’m surprised when he says, “I took my share of beatings in the orphanage.”
My mouth drops open. “You grew up in the care system? And they beat you?”
His fingers dig reflexively into my hip as he no doubt relives painful memories. Emotions spread across his face like cracks in an eggshell. “Not the adults. The kids who were bigger than me. Until they weren’t. I was a late bloomer, but once puberty hit, they didn’t bother me anymore.”
“What about your parents?”
Quinn shrugs. “Never knew them. I was left on a bench outside the local police station in Bakersfield when I was a baby.” He laughs wryly. “Guess I was destined to go into law enforcement.”
Things suddenly slot into place. His gruff demeanor. How closed off he seemed when I first met him. And how he tried to push Aiden and me away after the shooting incident. He’s been alone all his life. No parents. No siblings. I recall his words from earlier.
I’m used to being alone, of only having myself to think about…
My heart clenches. This man has never known the love of a family. He’s been the guardian and protector of this town, but who looks after him?