Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
Christine
Poof!
My dress is gone under Tagger’s deft fingers after a quick lift of my arms, the ruined garment draped next to his on the railing.
My bra follows, but a cool gust of wind blowing across my breasts has me reaching out to hold his shoulder to steady myself under a shiver. He places a kiss on each nipple, then runs the flat of his tongue over them. I knew he’d be smooth, but I didn’t expect the seduction. It’s better than any dream I ever had of him.
I appreciate his attention to detail.
Right here and now, nothing exists outside this connection—physical, emotional, intense. If we didn’t go any further, it would still be a highlight in my memories forever.
Cherished in his care, beautiful under his gaze, and the slow pace makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world who’s ever mattered. He doesn’t have to take his time with me. I’m not fragile in that way. But that he’s choosing to savor every stage we enter only reaffirms that I can trust him. He wants to be with me, and I want him. I want to love him like he loves me.
I lean forward and kiss his shoulder, the muscles manipulating under my tongue as his hand slips to my lower back. I rub the peaks of my breasts across his skin to not only show what he does to me but so he can feel it too.
Sliding my hand down over his abs, I slip my hand inside the waistband of his briefs until I find his hardness needing attention. And now there’s an ache between my legs that has me wanting to jump ten steps ahead—to feel him, his large erection, buried deep inside me.
Tagger’s hold keeps me close as I rock against his leg, searching for relief that I don’t want to rush. I also don’t want the fabric barrier between us either. So I push back to take the cotton covering my hips and slide it over my boots to the floor.
He watches, drinking me in while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s criminal to look that good.”
“Arrest me, then,” I challenge. “I’m ready to do time with you in that bed.”
A smirk quirks the left side of his mouth and reaches for my hand, pulling me against him again. “You’ll be doing something in that bed alright, but it isn’t going to be time.” He kisses me, then adds, “It also might include some begging.”
My eyes go wide while the desire between my legs builds. “Promise?” I grin, raising my brow.
“See?” He shakes his head, that smug smirk never leaving his stupidly handsome face. “It’s already started.”
I poke him in the abs, more to get a feel than to scold him. “That was pure trickery.” I reach down, this time lacking a tentative touch as I rub over his erection on top of those bothersome boxer briefs. Instead, I take what feels rightfully mine. Glancing up to catch his eyes already on me, I ask, “How do you feel about getting rid of these?”
“They’re all yours, babe.”
“It’s not the boxers I want.” I grab the sides and drag them down, freeing what I’ve only felt through jeans and too briefly a few moments ago. Sliding them down to his ankles, I leave them for him to handle from there so I can take in his naked body for the first time. Broad shoulders lead to that pack of eight abs, which cut a sharp V to his prominent member. His cock is perfect—large, smooth, and temptingly straight for me—but I never doubted it wouldn’t be.
I can’t ignore his legs; the muscles are long, but the strength is held in the thighs. Running. Weights. Sports. I used to love watching him play basketball with my brother outside the barn and running to score touchdown after touchdown in high school at the four-counties stadium. I even remember the first time I saw him on TV playing for Michigan State. Though football was never what I was interested in, I missed as few games as I could get away with. Sometimes my rodeo days got in the way.
This is almost too good to be real. Manifesting really works, inviting me to manifest his mouth on me right now. Down there . . .
My chin is lifted, encouraging me to stand again. “What do you want, Pris?” There’s no smirk and no humor. The question begs for a daring answer that has me suddenly nervous to utter. I shouldn’t be, but— “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“I . . .” Feeling exposed body and soul, I move against him, needing cover. With my arms around him, his arms encircle me, and he places a kisson my head.
He whispers against my hair, “Talk to me.”
With my cheek to his chest, I stare at the bed we made. I could kid myself and say it was for hanging out while this storm blows through, but I know we put the sheet and blanket on for having sex. And now that we’re getting closer, I realize big talk did get my offer taken just like he said.
“I want this, Tagger. I want to be with you, but teasing you and saying things that I probably shouldn’t, feels braver than I really am.” I turn my head and look up into his eyes. Dropping my gaze to the bed again, I whisper, “It’s been years.”
“What’s been years?” I hear the parting of his lips. I can feel the way his body tenses and that his arms have stilled. “Pris . . .”
I don’t know what to say, so it doesn’t surprise me that he doesn’t either. “I really lived up to the nickname, didn’t I?”
A breath leaves his chest, and he takes a deeper one in. “I’m sorry.”
I laugh humorlessly to myself. “No one is more sorry than I am that I haven’t had sex in years. Not with someone else anyway.” I shrug, not having the good sense to shut my mouth. “Images of you have come in very handy over the years.”
Stroking the back of my head, he rests his chin on the top of it. “I’m sorry for the name. I thought it was harmless.”
“It was a curse.”
He leans back. “This is bullshit.”
There’s no anger to worry about, but his clipped tone has me looking up at him again. “What is?”
“Guys are idiots for letting you slip through their fingers.” He kisses my forehead and grabs my ass, giving it a squeeze. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve had the dirtiest fucking thoughts about you and gotten off many times to those images. Watching you come while sitting on top of me had me so close to doing the same. If only the deputy wouldn’t have shown up.”
A smile works its way back onto my face. “That actually does make me feel a lot better.” It’s the little things . . . though his large and rock-hard cock is pressed against my middle. Sometimes the bigger things deserve the limelight, too.
He grins, and there’s nothing but sincerity in the lines. Taking my hand, he rubs it over his dick. “This is what you do to me. And for the record, I was fucking hard before you even got naked. Now . . .” He twirls me out in front of him, giving me a solid once-over and then again. “I feel like the luckiest fucking bastard on the planet.” When he pulls me back to him, he says, “Don’t be nervous. I’ll go slow.”
“Unless I ask you to go faster, right?”
He chuckles. “Yes, unless you beg me to fuck you faster.” Leaning down, he kisses me. “Now, where were we?”
“I think we were just about to get these boots off me.”
Nodding toward the mattress, he commands, “Get on the bed, Pris. Years without sex is unacceptable. We’ll have to make up for lost time.”
“I’m all in.” I love that he’s not intimidated by my past, not relationships or activities. He makes me feel bolder than ever to be exactly who I am with him. I scurry over and climb on, situating myself toward the end and raising a leg in the air.
Tagger stands over me with a wry grin, his eyes locked on mine as he anchors the back of the boot on his palm and shimmies it off with the other. “So you touch yourself?” I’ve never heard his voice so deep and rugged and on the verge of a growl.
“No one is here to do it for me.” I put my other leg in the air and throw my arms wide, readying myself for the taking.
“You might regret saying that.”
“You’d have to make me.” One thing he can’t resist is a challenge. I’m just not sure if this is the subject to test him. Too late now. I rub my thighs together like a damn cricket.
“ Mmm . Famous last words.” He gets the other boot off and drops it with a thud to the floorboards. My socks are thrown over his shoulder before he bends down to rub his hands between my legs. “Thinking about you getting yourself off to images of me is quite the aphrodisiac, Ms. Greene.”
“It’s always done the trick.”
“Fuck,” he says, grinning with a shake of his head. “What do I do with you?”
I tilt my head to the side, admiring that Adonis body of his. “To be fair, I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes either, so I get it.”
He’s still shaking his head when he climbs onto the mattress, appearing to genuinely try to figure me out and what he’s going to do with me while I start manifesting his mouth on me again. Maybe twice will produce results.
We move up until our heads are cushioned on pillows, and we can slip our bodies under the covers. I stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before turning to confirm he’s real. With the sides of our bodies pushed together, I can hear my breathing get louder. I tap his hand with my pinky finger. He obliges by wrapping his pinky around mine and then looks at me. I whisper, “Tagger Grange is in my bed.” This is too good to be true.
“You’re not the only one in awe, Christine Greene,” he says, dragging out the syllables in his dulcet tone. Pulling my hand out from under the cover, he kisses it. “I’ve been dreaming about this.” He sits up just enough to lift me by my hips to pull me on top of him.
Straddling him, I lift on his thighs with my hands and adjust over where I want to feel him most. His length is hard, his body already beginning a slow-moving dance against me. I maneuver down to kiss him once and then again before swiping my tongue over that sexy bottom lip of his like he does.
He chuckles. “Did you just lick me?”
“I did, and I might do it again.”
His eyes travel from my mouth to my eyes and back again. “Your warning isn’t a real threat. If you’re going to do it again, I know where you can start.”
Before I can move over his body, his hand captures the back of my head and guides me back to his mouth again. His lips brush against mine, and then he looks me in the eyes. “I can’t wait to watch you come again.”
My breathing slows, but my heart races under the darkening intensity of his eyes. “I’m ready.” I slip out of his grasp with my eyes locked on his and start my descent under the sheet. “But I still owe you, and I always pay my debts.”
I start with a slow tease of my hand around his length, sliding up and then down as I resituate myself between his legs. My eyes lock on his. Increasing the pace and gripping tighter, I watch as his head jerks once and then twice, and then his lips part. His lids start weighing down on him. A battle of wills has been waged.
Whispering, I say, “I’m going to make you feel so good that you’re going to dream about this.”
Tagger licks his lips, then shoves his hands behind his head as if he’s ready for the show to begin. “I already do, so I can’t wait for new material.”
So naughty, but his thoughts inspire me to put on my game face. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
I’ve waited so long to pleasure him like this just to watch him fall apart for me. I lean down and lick his tip just to watch it twitch in reaction. Inspired, I twirl my tongue around him several times before gripping the base and taking him into my mouth to slowly descend the full length. I only reach halfway before I pause for a breath and relax my throat to travel the rest of the distance to my hand.
With tight lips and hollowed cheeks, I slide back up.
“That’s so good, babe.”
Encouraged by his praise and the gentle pressure I feel on the back of my head, I take him again, this time with no break. The tips of his fingers tease through my hair while the sounds of our connection fill my ears. “Look at you,” he breathes, slowly thrusting his length past my lips. My gaze travels up to meet the smolder in his eyes. “That mouth is always so beautiful, but wrapped around me like that? Such a good girl, aren’t you?”
His tone—low with a gravelly growl—has me wanting to please him. I close my eyes and continue going down and sucking up. I take him in, to the sounds of his groans, and catch my breath at the tip. I move faster, his body bucking under me, forcing him to hit the back of my throat. But I love when he loses himself, loses control because of what I’m doing to him. I want all of him, so I take it over and over and over until his pleasure becomes mine. And selfishly, I find my body becoming needy for him. My thoughts scatter, and I go by desire, and pleasure, and act on instinct. “Mmm.” It feels too good to stay quiet.
Reaching forward, he pinches my nipples, sending me spiraling while his hand then slips between my legs, sliding through the slickness he evoked. It’s when he lands on my pulsing bud that I lose all senses and take him even deeper just to feel if he can reach inside to release me.
We’re seeking those fireworks, so our bodies move in tandem, erratic against the other, and then in sync again. His groans of pleasure. My moans of ecstasy. The first gratifying ribbon of his release covers my tongue.
It’s carnal and raw, so fucking sexy that my body gives in in a thrust against his leg.
Just as he finishes, I hit my peak and then tumble into my release. The sweet relief strikes fast and leaves no prisoners as I fall to pieces on top of him, each tremor whispering, “You are his,” as they rattle through my soul. I already knew, but now, I feel so attached that there’s no denying it.
When my heart regulates and my breathing calms, I open my eyes and push myself off his stomach to climb higher until this dead-weight body of mine collapses on his chest. I’m not ready to return to reality. I’m not ready to be a functioning member of society. I just want to lie here all day or move this along to the next stage. The tingling begins again . . .
He chuckles while rubbing my back. “You going to live, Pris?”
“I don’t think so,” I mumble, my eyes closing. My body is worn out, and my mind pleasantly void of my usual troubles. “In fact, I think I’ve already reached the pearly gates.”
He kisses my head. “You always give me hell, but this feels like heaven.”