Page 47 of Lake + Manning (Something in the Way 4)

I started to laugh as I looked back at him but paused. There was nothing funny about the six-foot-five inches of muscular, buck-naked man about to devour me.

I bit my bottom lip as he thumbed my folds apart. “We need a taller bed,” he said.

“Why?”

“So I can eat you standing up.” He got to his knees, and since his Lake Special was still a little too high for him, he urged my knees apart until I was spread and even with his mouth. “That uncomfortable?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Then I better be quick.” He licked from my clit to my asshole, humming with satisfaction. Within seconds his tongue was buried inside me. I dropped my cheek to the bedspread, grabbing the fabric in two fists. Pleasure tingled up my spine, my face burning hotter and hotter.

Manning splayed his fingers on my lower back and pressed the wet tip of his thumb to my asshole. “This okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, partly curious, but mostly too aroused to let him stop.

He breached the tight opening. His hand was so large, his fingers felt as if they spanned halfway up my back. I wanted his mouth on me again, so I backed onto his hand. “Fuck me, Lake. I could finish myself off just watching you from this angle.”

“Make me come,” I begged. “However you want.”

With the slightest pressure, he pushed his thumb inside me, that forbidden spot accepting him easier than I would’ve thought. The snug fit, the rawness of our wedding-night excitement driving us forward, and his tongue back on me as his thumb pumped in and out would’ve normally been enough to make me climax—but right then, I needed more.

“Manning?”

“Yeah, Birdy,” he said between my legs, his deep voice vibrating through me.

“There’s something else I want.”

“Tell me.”

I got back up on my arms. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

“You already do.” He kissed me right on the pussy, tonguing my clit. “So good.”

I took a breath. He’d already gone caveman on me, but I was ready to bring him to his knees for what I hoped would be the first time over the course of the night. I bit my lip, looking back at him. Maybe it wasn’t fair to tease him, but times like this, he made it so easy. “I want . . .”

“What?” He arched a dark eyebrow at me. “Can’t read your mind, Lake.”

“I want you to come so deep inside me, there’s no chance I won’t get pregnant.”

That did it. His jaw ticked as he set his once hungry, now voracious eyes on me. Drawing his thumb out, he stood. I got up on my knees, holding his gaze as I unzipped the back of my dress and tugged it over my head.

He took one look at my spotless white lace corset and swallowed. “I was the first to claim your virgin cunt, Lake. Remember?”

I shuddered before lying back in a show of submission. I nodded breathlessly, even though the answer was absurdly obvious. “You claimed more of me that morning than any other man could in a lifetime.”

He grabbed me under the knees and yanked me to the edge of the bed. “Don’t talk about other men when I’m in this state,” he warned. “You gave me your heart first, then your body, didn’t you, sweet girl? Nobody else got anything.”

I shook my head on the mattress, my body vibrating with an intense need only he could fill. “Make it official, Great Bear,” I said, echoing my demand for a kiss at the altar. “Take what now belongs to you.”

He gritted his teeth. “You were always mine, and you’re really fucking mine now.”

I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Manning made good on his promises of marathon fucking. When he wasn’t telling me he couldn’t get enough of his new wife, he was showing me—hour after hour until the sun rose.

And I knew in my gut—there was no chance we hadn’t conceived.

Bear and Birdy

Spring 2010

13

One spring evening, something in the air changed. Without actual evidence, I knew we were in labor. I should’ve had some idea how long it’d been happening, but I’d been conveniently pretending the pregnancy didn’t even exist.

Standing at the kitchen sink, I inhaled back a film of tears. I saw Manning before he saw me. He stood at the mouth of the stable, dusk settling around him while he raised his cell as if checking for reception. I could still turn out the kitchen lights and pretend I hadn’t come home. That I’d stayed late for an emergency operation, or had stopped by a friend’s, or been held up by car trouble. Not that Manning would fall for any of that. Lying to him was nearly impossible, not to mention I owned a perfectly functioning car thanks to his frequent tune-ups.

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