Strokes, Vol. 3 Read online

  “Are you impatient?”

  She shook her head, but then wrinkled her nose. “Getting there. I think.” And she was. Moisture continued to seep; friction burned inside her. Her nipples were tight needy beads that couldn’t be satisfied with the gentle scruff of the curly hair on his chest. “Colm, please,” she whispered.

  “Please? You have only to command me.”

  “Not here. Not now.” Her fingernails dug into his ass. “I need you to take me. Move now. Please, Colm.”

  He lowered himself further, sliding his hands beneath her body to cup her ass, then began to hump her, driving deeper and deeper, while the slippery-wet sounds of their joining amplified, echoing against the hard concrete walls.

  She moaned in his ear, then sucked the lobe between her lips and bit him. “More,” she whispered.

  Colm withdrew abruptly, kneeling over her. Rough hands turned her and pulled up her hips. She got her knees beneath her a moment before he cupped her sex, set his thick cockhead against her plump folds and plunged inside.

  Mary howled. Not from pain, but from joy. Pushing up on her arms, she rocked backward to meet his thrusts, reveling in the sensations his motions produced. Fierce heat burned inside her; her bottom warmed as his pelvis slammed against it. His fingers curved around the corners of her hips, holding her still, then jostling her forward and back so they slammed together, slick slaps that added to the percussive gusts of their breaths. Her body stiffened, her back arching, ass tilting higher to allow him as deep as he could sink.

  Just as her pleasure reached its zenith, he slid two fingers into the top of her folds and swirled on her tiny, rigid clit. She exploded, emitting a warbling wail as her orgasm cascaded over her, quivering along her skin, rippling deep inside her channel.

  His muffled shout followed, but he continued to rock against her. When he slowed, his body bent to blanket her back. His arms encircled her in a crushing hug.

  She didn’t mind. Inside his strong embrace, she felt a sense of welcoming, of peace, of pleasure shared.

  They fell to the bed, bodies still connected. With his arms around her, she snuggled her bottom into the cradle of his thighs and slept.

  *

  RAIN PATTERED ON the metal roof, a soothing sound that had Mary nestling deeper against Colm’s chest. With a thigh trapped between his and an arm around his waist, it seemed she was every bit as content as he felt.

  For the first time since he’d awoken aboard his transport ship after the liquids had cleared from his lungs in the stasis cell, he didn’t awaken with his chest tight with sorrow. The woman nestled so closely against him was an innocent, as much a pawn in this grand scheme as he was. There was no war to fight. No cause to herald.

  All that was left was surrender.

  As he lay there with his mistress wrapped around him, his body began to shake. Tears eased from his eyes and seeped into the pillow beneath his head. He closed his eyes and willed himself to lie still so as not to wake her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He couldn’t answer for the lump lodged at the back of his throat.

  Hands cupped his face. Thumbs swept away his tears. Then soft kisses peppered his cheeks, jaw, mouth. “Tell me.”

  He opened his eyes to find her soft green gaze glittering with concern. “This will be our life.”

  “And that saddens you?”

  “God, no,” he blurted, shamed by the ragged texture of his voice.

  Her mouth pressed against his again, then she rose beside him, kneeling. Her hand closed around the controller chip, and she lifted the chain from around her head. Without a word, she handed it to him. “I never wanted a slave. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted a partner, but more than anything, I would like for you to be my husband. I won’t be sending you back.”

  Colm breathed deeply, blinking away his tears. He gave her a nod, then reached to pull her against him. “More than anything, I want to stay right here and be your husband.”

  Her smile crept slowly across her face. Moisture gathered in her eyes, and she laughed and wiped it away with the backs of her hands.

  Colm’s chest expanded. Happiness lifted guilt and helpless anger from his soul—borne away by the radiance of her smile. “What shall I call you?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Getting tired of ma’am?” she teased from beneath her dark lashes.

  He nodded.

  “Me too. I’m Mary.”

  A sweet name for a woman who hid all her softness behind a facade of brisk competence. “I like it,” he murmured. “Do the fields need us, Mary?”

  “Not until the rain stops.”

  He narrowed his eyes and reached up to palm a small, round breast. The nipple was soft as velvet. The tip hardened beneath the press of his thumb.

  Her breath caught and held. She tossed back her head, shaking her hair behind her.

  “Grow it long,” he said.

  “For you, I will.”

  He arched a brow. “What else will you do to please me?”

  She narrowed her gaze, and then slowly straddled his body. “Whatever you desire.”

  “Am I now the master?”

  A sexy grin stretched across her pretty face. “If it pleases you.”

  Colm wondered at the trust she gave him, so quickly. They’d only just met. Perhaps she’d been lonely all those months alone as she’d waited her for her mate. The fact they seemed compatible, in at least this one thing, had to be a deep relief. It was for him.

  He raised himself on his elbows and drew a turgid nipple between his lips. He nipped it, then sucked it deep into his mouth, giving it tugs and licks until she sighed and clutched his hair.

  When he drew back, he lifted her, urging her down his body.

  She needed no further instruction, kissing her way down his chest, teasing his belly with gentle bites and wet kisses until she knelt between his legs and took his cock into her mouth.

  Colm groaned as she devoured him, sifting her hair with his fingers, pinching her ears to pull her deeper. His cock filled, his balls drew closer to his groin. Her hands surrounded his shaft, her sweet mouth locked beneath the sensitive ridge surrounding his head and suckled while her tongue lavished it with wet sliding caresses.

  Joy like he hadn’t felt in years poured through his veins. He gripped her hair and pulled her from him. Then forcing her to her back, he ravaged her breasts with hot flicks of his tongue and stinging pinches which caused her to yelp and giggle.

  Smiling, he worked his way downward, hands caressing her smooth belly, fingers digging into her firm ass and thighs as he opened her. Arousal, potent and spicy, filled his nose as he buried his mouth between her legs and licked and suckled her labia and clitoris until she squirmed and bucked beneath him.

  When she was breathless and he was so hard he couldn’t wait a moment longer, he brought her over him, watching as she guided him inside her with her fist clutching his cock. She let go, leaned back her head and sank deep, gliding downward in a single stroke until their groins met.

  She paused, swaying over him. Her inner muscles clamped around him; liquid slicked her walls. “Do you think they planned the rain for just this purpose?”

  He grunted, not fond of the company, not wanting the big consortium to intrude into their bedroom, but what she said held merit. “Perhaps. But we had the choice of how to spend the down-time, Mary.”

  She began to move, slowly at first, inching up, then down. His cock warmed inside her snug hollow. When a wave of heat swept through him, tensing his belly and his balls, he decided he’d let her savor the ride another day.

  He flipped them, relishing her cry of surprise. Without pausing he stroked into her, clutching her buttocks to hold her close so that each roll of his hips tunneled deeply. The push-pull of his motions drew sighs and groans. Her legs moved restlessly, inner thighs rubbing his legs, then rising higher until she gripped his waist.

  Her small hands pushed against his chest, and he lifted himself, bracing on his arms,
increasing the length of his strokes and giving each forward thrust a snap that shoved her body up the bed. Before long, the bed frame groaned, pounding against the wall.

  Mary’s breaths were shallow, open-mouthed. Sweat slicked both their bodies as they writhed together. When the first internal flutters heralded her blooming orgasm, Colm pounded harder, deeper, not satisfied until a garbled scream ripped from her throat.

  Only then did he let go, giving his own hoarse shout of triumph. His thrusts slowed. Her legs eased from his waist. He sank over her, tucked his face into the corner of her shoulder and released an agonized sigh.

  She giggled beneath him. “That tickled,” came her throaty complaint.

  He raised his head, centered her face between his palms and gave her a hard kiss. “Will you melt if you get wet?”

  Her brows shot high. “Too late on both counts.”

  His snort jerked against her chest. “I meant, would you mind taking a walk in the rain?”

  *

  A GENTLE, CLEANSING rain fell upon them. Clouds obscured the sun, but enough of its rays filtered around the edges that rainbows formed. The first she’d ever seen outside of storybooks. The colors were deep, magnificent.

  “Do you think everyone feels like we do?”

  “And what do we feel?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

  “Happy. Hopeful.” She glanced sideways, hoping he didn’t think she was foolish.

  His gaze held steady on her face. “If they’re very lucky, they feel exactly as we do.”

  He held her hand as they walked beside the stream bank. She liked the way his large hand engulfed her own. Another reminder of his largeness, which she’d so thoroughly enjoyed.

  The place between her thighs felt hot. Her nipples raw. But she couldn’t wait for nightfall to beckon them back to bed. As odd as it seemed, she was already in love with Colm O’Riordan. Head over heels—with a man who’d arrived in manacles just a day ago.

  Rain continued to mist down on them. Their clothes and hair were soaked, but they continued to walk. She didn’t mind the exercise or the comfortable silence.

  “It’s like we’re the only people on this planet,” he mused after a while. “It’s so quiet. Restful.”

  “The first week I was here, I wondered what was missing. Whether my ears weren’t working right. I was so used to the constant noise in the dome, the hum of the fans.”

  They neared the bend of the stream. Mary halted, eyeing the object clinging to the edge of the bank. “Is that a tree?”

  “A bush, perhaps?”

  He let go of her hand, and they both walked toward it and knelt beside the spindly plant.

  “They planted orchards further north,” she said, touching the edge of a green leaf.

  “They aren’t going to be able to control every element of this new world. Life will find a way to flourish.”

  “Or they’ll cut it down.” Suddenly, anger burst inside her. She raised her head. “Maybe we should replant it near the house.”

  A smile quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Are you suggesting we nurture rebellion?”

  She grinned. Maybe he was rubbing off on her. “A quiet one. It’ll give the house shade when it’s larger.”

  Colm laughed. “Ever practical.” They dug with their hands around the shallow roots and pulled up the sapling. Then he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the roots.

  Saving the sapling seemed somehow momentous. Important. And it was the first decision they’d made together. Her smile stretched. Warmth filled her chest at the growing certainty they’d build a happy life together.

  When Colm captured her hand again, they headed home.

  About The Author

  Delilah Devlin is a prolific and award-winning author of sexy romance, erotica, and erotic romance with a reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. Whether creating dark, erotically-charged paranormal worlds or richly descriptive historical and contemporary stories that ring with authenticity, Delilah Devlin “pens in uncharted territory that will leave the readers breathless and hungering for more…” (Paranormal Reviews).

  Ms. Devlin has published over a hundred fifty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she has been published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Contents

  Foreword

  Big Brass Buckle

  Pitch Black

  The Pleasure in Surrender

  One-Track Cowboy

  How to Train Your Skjaldmaer

  Johnny Blaze

  Red Dawn

  About The Author