The Bounty Page 2

  Again, he shook his head and speared me with a look so stark my ready retort dried on my lips.

  “So, you were worried about me. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be worried about you. Sounds like we’ll both lose some sleep.”

  He blinked. The corners of his mouth twitched. “We losing that sleep together?” he drawled.

  “Depends on you, shithead.” I cupped my breasts and jiggled them. “You’re the one who climbed off this.”

  “Come here.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “I’m not making any damn promises.”

  “And I’ll learn to deal. But you’ll have to get used to this—me working out my…issues, when you do something that hits me square in the gut.”

  I held still for a second, and then gave him a slow smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t give me incentives to make sure you get issues to work out on my ass.”

  One wicked brow arched. “Does your ass feel neglected?”

  Done with waiting for him to get over himself, I leaned back, braced on my hands, and stretched out my legs, spreading them to offer an unencumbered view of what his dick was still hard for. “Better get up inside me, Bulldog, or I’ll see if Dagger needs a new partner.”

  With his abs flexing, he sat, then climbed over me, not stopping his upward crawl until his cock nudged my pussy. “You’ll ride with me,” he said, his voice hard. “Where I can keep an eye out.”

  “Show me why I should choose you,” I whispered.

  His chest jerked on a grunt. “Do you ever stop?”

  I puckered my lips and blew him a kiss. “No. Can you deal with this mouth?”

  His lips landed on mine, effectively proving he could, and very well, as he devoured my mouth.

  With the way he chose to fight, the horny part of me hoped I’d never win an argument.

  I raised my knees to bracket his hips then scraped my fingernails from his shoulders to his hard ass. Without raising his body to make room between us, he entered me with a slow roll of his hips.

  My mouth went slack beneath his as I reveled in the way he filled me, his girth stretching my inner walls. When he was all the way inside, he lifted his head and nipped my nose and my chin. “Buttercup, for a girl with such a big mouth, your pussy’s just a little thing.”

  I pinched his ass. “Not delicate. Move!”

  He chuckled, his upper body jerking against mine.

  Right then, I might have smiled, but he slipped his hands under my ass and began rocking against me, sliding in and out, while his body ground against mine, heating the skin of my breasts and belly.

  I needed him to give me space to let me move, needed him to get on his knees so he could stroke me with deeper, longer thrusts. More than that, I needed my clit rubbed, or I’d never come. Frustrated, I glared upward.

  His smile was sly. He knew he was driving me crazy.

  I lifted my lips in a snarl. “You want something…”

  “I do.”

  “You’ve already got me naked. You’re already inside me.”

  “Baby, I just decided I want more.”

  I widened my glare and slipped a finger into the crease of his ass.

  Again, showing surprising speed, he slipped his hands from beneath me, grabbed my arms, and moved them upward. “I want you to agree that when we’re here, in this bed, you’ll do whatever I want.”

  I shrugged. “Will whatever you want give me what I want?”

  “Eventually.”

  I pursed my lips and frowned. “And what do you want right now?”

  His gaze dropped to my mouth.

  “Huh. I’m down with that,” I said, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. Sure, it wouldn’t have taken much to push me into an orgasm, a flick of a nail against my clit, but I was curious about he’d feel inside my mouth…for starters.

  “I’m gonna pull out now, but I want you to stay still. Agreed?”

  At my nod, he slid slowly from within me, then knelt beside me and rolled off his condom. “I’m clean, Buttercup,” he said, fisting his shaft and giving it a long pull.

  I liked seeing his big hand slide on his rigid cock. “Me, too. And on the pill. Just so you know.” I swallowed then licked my lips because my mouth was drying up—likely because it had hung open so long as I’d stared at him fisting himself. Something about watching him pump his generous man-meat, the sight glorified by the background of his muscled body, covered in gray-and-black tattoos of skulls festooned with flowers and guns, made me feel very, very feminine.

  Here in his bed, just as I’d agreed, I’d do anything he wanted so long as I could touch every inch of his skin…suck every inch of his hard cock…

  He lay on his back and held his cock so it pointed at the ceiling. “Your mouth on me…”

  I scrambled up to kneel by his side.

  But he shook his head and held out his arms. “Your pussy on my mouth…”

  Better and better. I angled my body around and slowly lifted a knee over his head. With his hands guiding me, I spread myself and lowered, then gasped as his mouth latched on my labia, sucking and nibbling on my folds.

  He slid a hand over my ass and smacked it, reminding me of my task.

  Braced on one hand, I used the other to grip him at the base and lowered my mouth to suck his head. I swirled my tongue around and around, learning the territory and sliding into his tiny slit.

  His musky scent and taste made me hungrier, and I opened wide and glided downward, loving the feel of him sliding on my tongue as I went deep. When the cap touched the back of my throat, I swallowed, the action giving him a sexy caress that made him groan against my sex.

  His fingers entered me. His tongue slid to my clit, slicking over it. Then fingers lifted the top of my folds, pulling away the hood protecting my swelling knot of nerves.

  I opened my throat and sank deeper, giving him everything he could want, just so he’d keep doing what he was—tapping, rubbing, flicking—until my thighs and belly quivered.

  Mouth stuffed, I breathed noisily through my nostrils, little whimpers escaping as he fingered me. When he sucked my clit, I gave a very muffled shout. He had me on the edge, but I wanted his permission, his encouragement, before I flew. I wanted to please him more than I wanted my own pleasure.

  Bulldog released my clit and kissed it. Then he withdrew his fingers. “I want you on your hands and knees,” he said, his voice rough and tight.

  I came off him, trailed my tongue one last time up his shaft, then quickly crawled sideways, still faced away and waiting.

  His hands gripped my ass and spread my cheeks. “Everything’s red and wet,” he rasped.

  I sank my belly to lift my ass and braced my arms.

  When he nudged my pussy, I bit my lower lip to still a cry. When he pushed inside, I arched deeper, clutching my own hair, waiting as he screwed slowly inside, swirling around and around, until his groin was snug against me.

  I reached beneath me and gripped his balls, fondling the warm, heavy sac.

  His thumbs slid into my crack and pressed on my tiny, puckered hole. “That ass is mine, Buttercup.”

  A promise I’d make him keep. “Yes.”

  Then he gripped the notches of my hips and strained inward. “This pussy is mine.”

  “Yes.” I glanced sideways at the mirror above his dresser. I liked what I saw—every muscle of his body defined as he held himself there behind me. So big and ridiculously masculine.

  Then there was no time to admire the picture we made—hard and soft, large and small—because he began to move, pushing me away as he withdrew, bringing me back with a snap as he thrust forward. Nothing gentle about his fucking. Hard, harsh—each muscular thrust rattling my teeth.

  Slow, at first. Then faster. His cock tunneled, heating my core. Tension coiled deep inside me, making it hard to catch my breath. I grunted and moaned. Until I sobbed.

  His balls banged against the top of my folds, each bounce a tease. But I didn’t dare fiddle with my clit. That was his right. And I knew he
’d take it when he was ready. Already, he’d proven he knew what I liked. What I needed.

  My breasts quivered with his strokes, the tips hard as pebbles and aching. My pussy spasmed around him, my channel convulsed…wet…so wet, the sounds of his flesh hitting mine grew louder and sloppier.

  When at last he shortened his thrusts and bent to reach around me, I tossed back my hair and stiffened, ready. Now, now, now…

  He bent farther while he kept stroking and nuzzled the corner of my neck. “Now, baby. Fuck, now.”

  He gave my engorged clit a twist.

  I shattered, keening as he emptied himself inside me. The cry I emitted long and thin.

  Long moments later, I was still dragging air into my lungs and shivering.

  Bulldog wrapped his arms around me, then bracing an arm on the bed, brought us both down, his cock still lodged inside me.

  We lay on our sides, his hands caressing my breasts. The weight of his arm against my waist felt…right. Somehow comforting.

  A kiss landed on my shoulder. “Fucking unbelievable,” he whispered.

  I grinned. Though my injured arm was beginning to throb and I was tired, I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to bask in the moment and catalog every sensation—the hot palms squeezing my tits, the waning thickness locking our bodies together, his large, bearish frame snuggled against my back. “Think you might want to do that again?” I asked, surprised that my voice sounded so girly, so needy. My heart tripped as I wondered whether I’d pressed for too much.

  Bulldog bit my shoulder then eased away.

  Without being told, I turned and rested my head on his arm. He pressed me closer until my breasts rested against his chest. Then he slid a hairy thigh between mine. Again, I was surrounded by his body.

  His gaze was on the fingers that played with a nipple, where a thumb rubbed lazily across it. “We ride together. We sleep together.”

  I appreciated his simplistic speech. To the point. Reassuring. “I liked today,” I said. “Everything about it.”

  “Even our argument?”

  One side of my mouth twitched upward. “I like the way you ended it. But…” I waited until his gaze rose to lock with mine. “This doesn’t mean I’ll be so easy at work.”

  “Think you’re easy?” He laughed. “My dick’s a fucking nub.”

  I reached down and gripped his “nub.” “And now, I have high expectations,” I drawled as I gave it a gentle tug.

  He grimaced. “I’d just as soon not let the other guys know.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Because you’re embarrassed?”

  “No, because they’ll be all over me, asking me how good you are in bed.”

  I gave his nub another, not-so-gentle tug. “What would you tell them?”

  “I don’t fuck and tell, babe, but if I did…” He flicked my nipple with a nail. “I’d tell them you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  I let go of his cock and snuggled closer to his chest. “Is that the truth?”

  “I won’t ever lie.”

  I guessed by his lowering eyebrows that he was waiting for me to respond in kind. “Don’t go getting a big head,” I said, sliding my gaze away, because truth-time made me uncomfortable. I rubbed my palm over his heart and thought about what I wanted to say. Something to tell him just how pleased I was with him as a lover, but something that would also tell him that this, for me, hadn’t just been about fucking. Somewhere along the way, I’d started feeling something… more. “I’d like to try this, Bulldog.”

  “Chris.”

  I blinked.

  “Just because I want you to say my name doesn’t mean I’ll stop calling you Buttercup.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning. He’d saved me from getting all mushy, but at the same time, he’d told me—with just one word, his name—that he wanted to be closer, too. “Chris.” Taking a deep breath, I finally met his gaze.

  He was smiling.

  Maybe it was a bit smirky, but he’d earned the right to feel proud of himself.

  I inched my thigh upward until I nudged his balls. Then I arched a brow in challenge.

  Bulldog growled deep in his chest and rolled over me, trapping me with his weight. “Sure you can take more?”

  “Again,” I said breathlessly. “Not delicate.”

  A week later, we pulled into a far corner of a parking lot outside a biker bar that Sparky Leonard’s ex-girlfriend had named as his favorite haunt.

  “His bike’s here, all right,” Bulldog muttered as he stared down the long line of bikes parked in front of the bar.

  “And you know that, how?”

  He shrugged. “I ride with his club sometimes.”

  I frowned, trying to see inside the window, but we were too far away and the glass proved too dirty. “They know where you work?”

  “I might have mentioned it.”

  I shook my head. “Then you can’t go in first. Everyone will know straight away why you’re there.”

  Sparky had failed to show up for his regularly scheduled drug test. Our job was to deliver him straight to jail.

  “Not how this works, Buttercup.”

  “So you keep saying.” I didn’t glance his way as I took off my jacket then wrestled under my shirt to remove my bra. I pulled the band from my ponytail and shook my hair around my shoulders. Then I opened my jeans and tucked in the tee, tightly enough the tips of my boobs were clearly visible.

  “What are you doing?”

  I removed my holster and stuffed my weapon in the glove box. Then I shoved handcuffs in the back pocket of my jeans. “Give me a couple of minutes before you come inside. I’ll get close to him.”

  He reached out and wrapped his fingers around my upper arm.

  I stared down at his hand then lifted my head to give him a steely glare.

  Only he didn’t begin reading me the riot act, telling me how this would go down—me waiting in the truck while he took down the bad guy. Instead, he pulled my upper body over the console between us and kissed me silly.

  When he released me, he gave me a wink. “Two minutes. Tops.”

  I touched my puffy lips as I headed inside, sure everyone there could tell how turned on I was. Sure enough, my chest got whistles.

  Sparky was sitting at the bar, his thinning red hair peeking out from beneath the blue bandana he wore Axl-Rose style around his head. As I approached, his gaze locked on my chest.

  I paused beside him and leaned over the arm he held extended toward his beer, making sure my breast brushed his skin as I pretended to seek the bartender’s attention.

  “Hey, sweet thing,” he said, his gaze going from my boobs to my eyes.

  “Hey, yourself.” I gave him a slow wink.

  He cleared his throat and sat straighter. “Can I get you a drink?”

  I leaned closer, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of stale sweat. “No, but you can place your arms behind you.”

  “I can?” he asked, his gaze falling again to my tits as I rubbed them on his chest then on his arm as I circled behind him. Then I reached into my back pocket, pulled out the cuffs, deftly slapped them open, and clicked one around his wrist.

  “Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he whined. “I woulda said yes.”

  Around him, laughter started as his buddies figured out quicker than he did that he wasn’t about to get lucky. Maybe they knew because Bulldog was making a beeline toward me, his gaze smoldering.

  Had he seen me cozy up to Sparky?

  I grabbed Sparky’s other wrist and pulled it back. The second cuff secure, I pushed him off the stool. “Time to go, baby.”

  Bulldog growled and gripped Sparky’s upper arm, yanking him away.

  As I followed the two men, I swung my hips, grinning as whistles followed me out the door.

  After Bulldog helped Sparky into the back seat of the SUV, he slammed the door then rounded on me. His hands shot out and gripped my hips to pull me against his body.

  The kiss that l
anded on my mouth ground my lips against my teeth, but I didn’t mind. I slid a hand over the front of his jeans.

  He jerked back and handed me the keys. “Drive.”

  He never let me drive, but I got it. He didn’t want my unfettered boobs anywhere near Sparky’s person. I sauntered to the driver’s door and let myself in. Then I adjusted the seat and mirror, dipping it low enough I could lock gazes with my man.

  “Bulldog, she’s yours?” Sparky asked, his voice a tinny whine.

  “All mine.”

  “Damn. Are her tits for real?”

  “Sparky—” Bulldog gritted out. “You want to keep your teeth, you won’t mention my girl’s tits again.”

  The rest of the drive was made in silence. Bulldog insisted I remain in the car while he took care of Sparky and the paperwork inside the jail. I figured he didn’t want anyone else seeing my assets bounce.

  When he returned, he eyed me through the windshield, and I quickly climbed over the console into the passenger seat. Before my butt hit the leather, he slammed the door.

  Five minutes later, he pulled into a small gas station and escorted me straight into the restroom in the back. Inside five seconds, he had my jeans around my knees. Then he bent me over in front of the sink and fucked me.

  After we both came hard, we bought sodas and took a more leisurely route to the agency with our hands clasped atop the console.

  “That was fun.” I rolled my head on the headrest to glance at his profile. Bumpy nose, heavy brows, square chin. All manly muscle. I sighed.

  “Next time,” he said, lowering his voice into that gravely growl I was coming to love, “don’t give me a hard-on before we make the grab.”

  I huffed a breath. I wasn’t making a promise I couldn’t keep.

  *

  If you loved The Bounty and can’t get enough of Buttercup and Bulldog, let me know! I’d be happy to give you more of their adventures!

  And get ready for Montana Bounty Hunters: Reaper!

  Read an excerpt below!

  About Delilah Devlin

  Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and sexy romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred eighty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is 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.