Page 43 of OctoBEARfest

"I don't really care as long as you don't put me down."

He murmured, "Gwen," and captured her mouth with his again, this time with slow intensity that left her aching throughout for more of his touch. His hand slid up her spine, pushing her shirt out of the way until she lifted her arms so he could pull it all the way off, all without having to put her down. He glanced down at the mounds of her breasts in their bra, and groaned again. "Black lace. You're trying to kill me." He was good at unfastening a bra with one hand; it loosened and she discarded it with a laugh, kissing him and winding her arms around his neck.

"I'm almost sure killing isnotwhat I'm trying to do. God, you're so strong. How the hell can you just hold me up like this?"

"I'm very strong," he replied, amused. "You like it?"

"So much," she whispered. "You make me feel fragile and very fuckable." She kissed his throat, rucking his own shirt up so she could run her hands over the solid muscle of his chest, and shivered. "God, you'rebig. Oh, how am I going to get this off you!" It took a moment of effort on both their parts before hisshirt joined hers on the floor. Gwen had the vague idea they'd gone down a hallway, but she had no idea if they were heading for a bedroom or a kitchen counter. She squirmed her hand down between their bodies, finding the fly of his jeans, and Bill took a sharp, deep breath.

"If you spend much time down there I'm going to forget entirely about foreplay," he warned.

"That's not the discouragement you think it is," she whispered back. "I've been thinking about you all day. I'm plenty warmed up."

He breathed, "Gwen," as she undid his fly and pushed his jeans down with her heels, making sure to take his shorts with them. Bill took another half step, froze, and made a sound of frustrated desire. "I'm going to kill us both if I keep heading for the bedroom. Jeans are around my ankles. I'll trip."

"As long as you can keep holding me, here isrealgood," Gwen promised breathily.

"I willneverlet you fall. Gwen, can I, I want to, I need you, can I?"

She whispered, "You better," and shuddered as he shifted her position against him a little, her boot-clad thighs around his hips instead of his waist as he slid into her, with a rough chuckle and an adjustment for the tiny panties she hadn't taken off. Gwen, thickly, said, "Oh my God. Oh my God, youarebig," and to her shock, orgasmed abruptly from the pleasure of being claimed so gently by so much size. "Bill,yes, Jesus!"

"Ah God." He laughed, clutching her to him, and buried his face in her shoulder a moment before finding her mouth for more kisses. "God, you feel good, Gwen. God, yeah." She felt him stepping out of the jeans, leaving them behind as he adjusted his grip on her, settling her more comfortably and then sliding his thumb down her spine so she arched abruptly. He ducked his head to catch one of her nipples in his mouth and heat spilledthrough her again, erupting in a cry of pleasure that made him tighten his grip around her waist. "Ohyeah."

"Oh my God," she said again, somewhere between laughter and stupidity. "You're so big. So strong. Oh myGod, Bill. Yeah. Again. More. More?" She was lost in his strength, flying again, pleasure coursing through her as they moved together. As he moved them through the house, too, although slowly, until he suddenly sat down somewhere and her own weight drove her more deeply onto him as he no longer carried it the same way. Gwen came again, crying out with release, and he slid his fingers between their bodies to work her clit as he thrust up into her, until another orgasm made her shriek and beg for him to come with her.

He groaned and heat spilled into her like he'd been waiting for permission, the thick throbs pulsing against her in the most satisfying ways. She collapsed against him, gasping and struggling to catch her breath between kisses, and shivered from the bones out. Bill whispered, "Perfect," against her hair, and for a little while, everything was.

CHAPTER 26

Gwen Booker in his arms was the only thing Bill ever wanted, except maybe Gwen Booker in his arms with the lights on. He mumbled that eventually, and at her laughing assent, reached down the couch to switch a lamp on. She winced a complaint, but with her eyes half-lidded against the light, slid her hands down his chest and murmured awe. "Big man. Big muscle. I like it. You."

He chuckled and gathered her closer, as if she could get much closer, burying his face in her shoulder for a moment, then sliding his hands around her body to cup her breasts. "Speaking of big. Don't mean to be rude, but where were you hiding this under those t-shirts?"

"More under the leather jackets," she said with a smile. "I thought you knew."

"I figured it out as soon as the bra came off." He dipped his head to kiss the tops of her breasts, encouraging her to arch back so he could use his mouth and fingers until she was gasping and squirming against him. "Still have a problem," he murmured. "I really want to see you in nothing but those boots and also really don't want to move you."

Her laughter was warm and trembling against his skin. She straightened up a bit, reached behind her, and unzipped the skirt. Unzipped it all the way, as it turned out: a couple seconds later she held up a band of leather that had once been a skirt, and dropped it beside them on the couch. Bill breathed a prayer, then slid his fingertips beneath the waistband of a very,verytiny pair of black lace panties. "How attached to these are you?"

"…I can get more?"

"I like that answer." He tested the elastic with his fingertips again, then brought his other hand around to her hip and with a quick jerk, popped the waistband. It snapped. Gwen shrieked, her whole body tensing up in surprise, which, given where she was sitting, turned Bill cross-eyed for a moment. When he found his voice, it was to say, "This is already working out better than I imagined," before snapping the other hip's elastic. Gwen startled again, and Bill shivered, sliding the tiny panties out of the way and then his hands over her hips. "Ah,God, yeah. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?"

"Maybe you just have a thing for women in tall boots riding your cock."

He twitched so hard he thought he might come again, and pulled her deeper onto himself as he lifted his hips as he said, "Jesus, Gwen," in a thick voice.

She leaned in, nuzzling his throat. "So the responsible son likes a little dirty talk, hm?"

"I like your dirty talk," he said, still hoarsely. She was paler-skinned than he was, blue undertones instead of his golden ones, and her black-dyed hair was an incredible contrast to that paleness. She had broader shoulders than he'd realized, which also helped disguise her bustiness, which he now sort of thought of as his own personal secret. He lifted his hands to her breasts again, tugging and brushing at her nipples and watching them flush pink as her breath went short. She had a small waist: he'dknown that from her short-cropped shirts, and her hips were more slender than he would have expected. She had a little line of flowery tattoos from her bellybutton downward, matched by curved ones over her hip bones, like they were all helpfully leading to the little thatch of dark gold curls between her thighs. He'd known she dyed her hair. Seeing the proof that cuffs and collar didn't match made him harder than he'd thought possible. Most of her legs were swallowed by the long leather boots, but the contrast of pale flesh and black leather there was as enticing as her hair and skin were. "God, you're beautiful."

"Know what else I am? Flexible." Gwen caught his hand to give herself an anchor, then leaned backward until she was lying back across—almost between, because they were spread—his thighs. Bill grabbed her hip, making sure she didn't slide off him, and she almost purred, releasing his other hand to her other hip. "Good boy. Don't let me fall." Then her fingers slipped between her own thighs as he watched, and he found himself pounding into her, hands knotted on her hips as she worked herself, voice rising in pleasure. There was no way he could hold out when her orgasm slammed through her, and in its aftermath he dragged her back up into his arms, gasping and holding on. When she'd caught her breath again, it was to murmur, "Wait until you see the tattoos on theotherside," and give a quiet, wicked laugh.

Bill thought he might have died and gone to heaven. His voice was actually shaking as he breathed, "Maybe you better not show me those tonight," and she laughed again, stealing a kiss.

"Gotta save something for next weekend. Or the morning, at least." She nuzzled in some more, warm and soft. "Maybe we should go to the actual bedroom?"

"I can't promise that won't lead to looking at the rest of your tattoos." Bill stood anyway, keeping her with him, and she clenched and shuddered again.

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