Read Released to Rapture (Irresistible Inmate) Online
Authors: Jean Baker
Tags: #erotic romance, #sexy romance, #sexy erotica
She couldn’t bring herself to do what he
wanted, but she nipped his earlobe and he bucked.
“Damn, woman, bite me.” His voice came from
his depths in a rusty growl while pushing her face into his
neck.
God, the man must be a masochist, but if it’s
what he needs—she bit him behind his juggler vein—hard. Dropping to
his chest, she took his nipple between her teeth and rocked her jaw
side to side, sawing the bud. The mattress bounced. She looked down
and gasped. His cock loomed rigid, large, and long. How in God’s
name? How often could he get hard?
“Don’t stop—pleeeese.” His head strained back
and, again, he forced her head to his throat.
She pulled her body up, wrapped her arm
around his neck and jerked it to her mouth. Not able to bring
herself to bite, she sucked hard. As her mouth worked his neck, she
looked down to his hips lashing the bed. His cock pulsated and
released a stream of cum onto his belly. She felt his throat
vibrate beneath her lips as he howled.
Propped on her elbow, she watched this
powerful man shudder and then relax his shoulders into her arms.
The muscle ridges in his belly settled, and his breath slowed. He
buried his face in her neck and threw one arm around her middle.
She felt moisture drop onto her collar bone and trickle to the
side. Dear God, what happened to this strong man to bring him to
tears? Her heart filled with compassion, and she pulled his face
under her chin, stroking his hair with her other hand.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. This is
embarrassing.”
Goldie tightened her arms around him and
kissed his forehead. “Please don’t be.”
“Did I hurt you? I think I lost my mind.”
“Not only did you not hurt me; you gave me
the most pleasure I’ve ever known.” She pulled a sheet up and dried
his face, her neck, and moved it down his chest to absorb
perspiration.
He took the sheet from her hand and wiped his
juices from his belly and penis. “I don’t know which is more
embarrassing: the tears or losing control. I should have given it
to you, but when you bit me, I totally lost it—his lashes dropped
to his cheek, and he settled more deeply into her neck, with one
hand lying lightly over her breast.
It gave her time to really look at him: his
deeply tanned skin with a ruddy glow; high cheek bones and strong
chin, shoulders massive; his pecs were rock-hard, and his belly
formed a washboard of muscles. Goldie had never seen a more
beautiful man, and in spite of her better judgment, she thought
about keeping him around. It seemed silly to think she didn’t know
enough to let him stay and work after this incredible sexual
session with him.
Tears indicated he wasn’t too hardened. He
had been bashful and quiet until they ended up in bed. No matter
how lovely he is, or gentle seeming, he is a vagrant, obviously
with no job or home. There’s a reason for that, and it probably
isn’t a good one. She dropped asleep, her mind whirling in
different directions.
Duncan leapt from the bed, crouching into a
fighting position. Goldie reached for a bedside telephone.
Realizing only the ringing woke him, he stood straight, hoping she
hadn’t notice his move. But she turned and stared at him wide-eyed.
She held her hand out, palm up, and he didn’t move or speak.
“Hi, Dad. Where are you? . . . Oh, so close?
Should be here in about thirty minutes? . . . Well, I have meatloaf
and can make a salad and a baked potato for each of us. . . . No,
don’t pick up anything, I have plenty of food. See you then.”
Your parents?”
“Yes. They don’t come often—retired to
Phoenix.”
“Reckon I better leave.” Please say no.
She slipped on a housecoat and walked toward
the door. Stopping with her hand on the door frame, she looked back
at him, her expression unreadable. “I’ll get your clothes from the
dryer.”
As she disappeared, Duncan left the bed,
stumbling from weakness. He entered the bathroom and quickly wiped
down with a wet cloth, assuming he had no time for another shower.
She wouldn’t want him around when her parents arrived. It shocked
him how much he wanted to stay, to help her with the farm, and
simply love her. But she deserves better than me. Knowing my
background would turn her against me, anyway. So, it’s best to go
and leave her with a good memory.
He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling so low
he imagined having to reach up to put his wet shoes on. His chest
hurt. Goldie came back and handed him his clothes. She opened her
mouth, and then closed it, her lips trembling. Standing, he pulled
her into his arms. “No need to say anything. I know you want me to
go and be gone before your parents arrive. With a gentle kiss on
her forehead, he said, “Beautiful woman, I’ll never forget you. You
have no idea what being with you means to me.”
“I can say the same.” Her voice rasped, but
she forced her head up and looked into his eyes. “You would be so
easy to love. I can’t bear to watch you go, so I’m getting in the
shower to give you time to leave.” She entered the bathroom without
looking back.
The shower cascaded down her body, easing the
overworked muscles, but doing nothing for the ache in her heart.
This is ridiculous. Sure he’s a beautiful, sexual man who had kept
her spinning, but face it, what went down between them could only
be a passing adventure to remember with pleasure. It wasn’t the
loss of true love to mourn over like an idiot—it was only raw sex.
She cut off the water and vowed to keep Duncan out of her mind.
Especially, now her parents would be here soon. Mom could always
read her like a book. Wrapped in a towel, she returned to the
bedroom.
Duncan is gone, thank goodness, she thought,
but a hard lump in her throat made it hard to swallow. She dressed
in her standard wardrobe of jeans and tee-shirt, checked the
readiness of the guest room, and hurried to the kitchen. As she
completed a large bowl of salad, the sound of a vehicle driving
into the back yard brought her to the window. Her heart lifted as
her mother stepped from the truck and trotted as fast as her short
legs would carry her toward the house. Goldie slammed through the
screen, ran across the yard to meet her mother. Both women, smiling
ear-to-ear, hugged with tears in their eyes. It had been a long
time. Together, they turned to find out what her father was up to.
He stood with his hands on his hips, staring around the property,
clearly displeased.
To put off dealing with his disapproval,
Goldie called out, “Hey, Dad, come give me a hug. Supper will be
ready in a few.”
He turned and strode to her, his weathered
face creased into a generous smile. After a tight hug, he backed up
and looked her over. “Well, at least my baby girl is looking mighty
fine.” With an arm around both women, he aimed them all toward the
porch. “I’m anxious to get into the meatloaf, daughter.”
After her parents settled at the long country
table, Goldie washed three large potatoes and popped them in the
microwave. As they cooked, she sliced the left-over meatloaf,
placed it in a baking dish, and slid it into the oven. Filling
glasses with ice and tea, she glanced at her mother. “Mom, I swear
you look younger every time I see you. Retirement must suit
you.”
Mr. Stanton chuckled. “All my women are
beauties. It’s done Susan a world of good to get away from all this
hard farm work.” As Goldie put silverware, butter, and sour cream
on the table, he continued. “I always hated how my wife had to work
on the farm, and is’s why I didn’t want to give the place to you.
If Leven had been a real farmer, maybe it would have worked out.
It’s obvious from what I noticed while coming in here, things have
simply been too much for you.”
Susan took two plates of food from Goldie and
placed one in front of her husband. “Clinton, I’d appreciate it if
you saved the farm arguments until I go to bed. I’ve heard all I
want to hear about it.”
Goldie slipped into her chair and cut her
meat. Susan ignored her husband’s scowl. “Daughter, you look
healthy and happy in spite of the farm—bright eyes and rosy cheeks.
Has something happened to lift your spirits?”
She smiled, although her mother’s
intuitiveness made her a little wary. If either parent knew about
Duncan, they’d be shocked and outraged. Glancing at her Dad, she
said, “Maybe it’s because I’ve finally admitted I need some help
with the farm. I decided to hire someone right away. The decision
makes me feel better.”
The meal passed pleasantly. Susan told her
Clinton now played golf, and she rarely saw him during the day. She
took the time available to play canasta with a group of women at
the club house, exercised and swam in the facility. “Oh, yes, Clint
and I have become laze-abouts—even sleeping in every morning. Quite
a change from the farm schedule, getting up and about by sunrise
every day.”
Duncan reached the road as the Stantons
turned into Goldie’s drive. It had to be them as no other traffic
moved on the road. Thank goodness, they didn’t see him. It would
worry them to catch a strange man coming from the farm. He looked
both ways down the road, and the only thing in sight was that old
man’s country store, Goldie’s uncle, if he remembered correctly.
Without thinking, he ambled in that direction.
After fifty yards, he stopped and sat by the
edge of the road. The wet shoes were rubbing blisters on his feet.
He pulled them off, propped his arms on his knees and dropped his
head onto them. It felt as if a ton of bricks sat on his heart. How
could he leave Goldie behind, even though he knew he didn’t deserve
her? He should be rejoicing just to be free—be able to walk in
sunlight again. No, he had to be greedy—to want more than he
deserved. If it was merely a matter of the sex, he knew that would
always be available to him once he settled. Women had always been
attracted to him. But it felt as if he’d left his heart with
her.
His mood dropped with the sun and became as
dark as the sky in the east. Anchored to the ground where he sat,
he couldn’t force himself to move. He remembered and relived
everything that passed between him and Goldie. She hadn’t been
affected as much as he, but by God, she didn’t find it easy to let
him go. A spark of hope entered his mind. If he went back, she
might let him stay. His heart dropped again. Should his past come
to light, it would be the end. Forget it and move on.
Instead, he unwrapped the meatloaf sandwich
he’d grabbed on the way through the kitchen. His throat tightened
until it felt as though he ate rocks. He washed it down with Coke,
squashed the can and threw it across the road. Tucking his shoes
under his arms, he stood, and hiked down a corn row toward
Goldie.
By full darkness, he reached the barn.
Animals stirred, whinnied, grunted, and clucked. Pressing against
the barn, he stared toward the house. In the warm light of the
kitchen, Goldie sat at the table with her parents. He reached in
the waist of his pants and adjusted a hard cock from its painful
position. Jesus, all I have to do is see the woman, and I turn into
a column of fiery need. Exhaustion overtook him. So he went in the
barn, hoping to find a place to sleep.
A smidgen of moonlight shined through a hole
in the roof. I’m going to fix that, if I stay. The huge, old-time
barn had a wide, center aisle down the middle and stalls either
side, with an enclosed area at the back. Mid-way the aisle, he
stumbled over a pile of hay and realized feed had been forked from
above. Okay, where’s the ladder? Fumbling around with his arms
outstretched, his hands hit the illusive steps. Perfect. Once in
the loft, the light improved, and he smiled at a stack of bailed
hay. He loosened enough from one large cube to make a comfortable
place to sleep and fell into it with a grunt of pleasure.
A movie played against the blackness of deep
sleep. Why was a woman in his wheat field? She sauntered away from
him, her naked back covered in a fall of black hair. Her rounded
ass swiveled as she disturbed the wheat into waves of gold. His
eyes fixated on the movement and his cock hardened. A tornado of
animal lust consumed his body. My wheat, my woman. Soundless, he
raced after her, his cock pulsing painfully. Only a few feet to go.
She glanced over her shoulder and raced away, as fleet as a deer.
The need to push into her body burned into his mind and body. He
dropped to four feet and bounded after her. A vision of mounting
her caused his steel rod and clenching balls to react. As he ran,
they emptied in spasms onto the wheat.
Oh God, she’s getting away. Heavy muscles in
his flank forced him forward, his hooves cut into the soft earth.
Although aware he remained a man, the pleasure of being a wild
animal overtaking his mate caused every rigid muscle in his body to
react. Almost on her. Before he leapt, his cock enlarged, ready to
take her. Airborne, he overtook her, threw her forward onto her
face into the wheat. He tried to force his cock into her weeping,
ready sex. But she struggled to throw him off her back. Winding his
hand through the black strands of her mane, he jerked her still
and, raging with the mating fever, he tried to force himself into
her.
She sobbed, cutting through his frenzy. Her
head turned, her emerald eyes glaring. “You must kiss me
first,”
With a man’s arms, he flipped her over. With
a man’s legs, he forced her to open to him. His burning mouth
descended onto her soft lips, and she swallowed his growls and
offered her tongue. He sucked it into his mouth. At the same time,
he plunged into her depths. She screamed into his mouth. Her hips
elevated, inviting more. His hips drove his cock deeper and harder.
Her cunt bit down and contracted around his member. Nails clawed
his back—teeth latched onto his bottom lip. The pain drove him into
an explosion of continuous ejaculations. She matched his every
move, and her juices joined his. Screaming, screaming—what?