“Stop it. I haven’t been with you because you reminded me of Dillon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, all right? I was with him because at first, on the surface, he reminded me of you. But there’s no comparison, Dalton. None. You’re ten times the man he is.”
A few beats of stunned silence passed as he waited for her to elaborate or to confess she felt something more for him than she ever had for Dildo. But her mouth remained stubbornly closed.
So Dalton kissed her.
Passion, desire, need exploded—a melee of hungry mouths, frantic hands, avid bodies, harsh breathing and harsher kisses.
Dalton wanted to pin her down and f**k the memory of every other man out of her brain and out her body. Imprint himself on her, in her so she’d feel him as part of her even when he wasn’t around. Mark her with his mouth, his teeth, his goddamn hands so she’d see those marks and remember only him.
Rory dug her nails into the back of his neck. Then her hands moved down his chest, over his ribcage, across his belly, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. She nuzzled him, scattering kisses, nips and tiny licks on the cords straining in his neck. “Let me show you. Any way you want. Tell me what you want.”
“This.” Dalton pushed on her shoulders and she dropped to her knees. Her hands unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly and opening his jeans. Then she yanked his boxers and jeans down, freeing his cock.
Her mouth, her goddamned mouth, so hot and wet and perfect; she destroyed him every time she sucked his c**k like she was starving for it.
Well she was gonna get it all and then some tonight.
Rory worked him fast. Driving him to the point where his balls tightened, where he was more animal than man, teetering in that moment when he was so f**king close to coming he could taste it.
He yanked harder on her hair. He squeezed his fingers against the side of her face, digging his thumb deeper into her neck, holding her in place as he f**ked her mouth exactly as hard and deep as he wanted.
Almost, almost…he glanced down at her face and saw his hand fisting her hair so strongly it pulled her scalp. Saw the red mark on her cheek from his palm. Then he saw how she squeezed her eyes—in pain?—every time his dick hit the back of her throat.
You’re hurting her. You’re punishing her with sex.
Is that how you treat the woman you love—as a vessel to pour your anger and frustration into?
No. Goddammit no.
Horrified, Dalton abruptly pulled her off his c**k and held her head in his hands. “Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“This.”
“Dalton—”
“Not like this. Never like this.” He shaped her beautiful face with his fingers. “I never want to touch you when I’m angry, Aurora. Never.”
She looked confused. “I don’t understand you.”
“I don’t understand myself sometimes. But this…isn’t right.” Dalton helped her to her feet and yanked up his clothing.
Then he took her hand and led her to his bedroom.
She was still breathing hard. Wariness darkened her eyes.
He stripped first. As he stood naked before her, his rush of masculine power had vanished, leaving him feeling vulnerable.
“Dalton,” she whispered, trapping his face in her hands, “Talk to me.”
“I love you.”
Rory blinked at him.
“I love you and the thought of losing you, of you walking away from me because I’m not the man you want…makes me crazy. It keeps me up at night. I’ve changed. But have I changed enough so you believe—”
She kissed him. “You are the man I want. Just you. I’m here with you and there’s no place I’d rather be.”
He traced her swollen lips with the pad of his thumb. “I was rough. I’m sorry.”
“Then you’d better kiss it and make it better, huh?”
Dalton kissed her. Touched her. Showed her.
She responded in that sweet melting way she always did, giving herself over to him completely.
After he’d removed her clothes and they were stretched out on his bed, skin to skin, heart to heart, he said, “You’re mine, jungle girl. Only ever mine. I’m never letting you get away from me again.”
Her satisfied moans rang in his ears as he showed her twice just how much he loved her.
“I’m still mad at you.”
Dalton’s gaze moved over her naked body. Lingered on her sex-mussed hair. Then he lifted that one dark eyebrow. “I can tell.”
Rory shoved him.
He laughed. “You can be mad at me more often if that’s how we work out our differences.” He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on the cup of her shoulder. “That was…mmm.”
“Mmm? What’s mmm?”
“The sexual hum of a satisfied man. Mmm. I make that sound a lot around you. Thought you’d recognize it.” He propped himself up on his elbow and traced her nipple with his fingertip. “I don’t have a bunch of smooth words. What’s between us defies description. I never knew it could be like that. And it’s like that between us every damn time.”
Don’t know any smooth words, my ass.
“So why don’t you go on and get your mad worked out. I can take it.”
She sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied for a permit?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were processing the applications?” he countered.
“Because it was supposed to be kept under wraps. But the people in the office knew what I was working on—I blame Hannah for trying to sabotage me. And the way I told you…” She shuddered. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you at all. Not only because I thought it’d cause problems between us. I know most ranchers—especially the McKays—are against this program.”
“True.” He stroked the upper swell of her breast with the back of his knuckles. “But somehow you forgot that I’m not a rancher anymore.”
“Also true.”
“And we don’t talk about our jobs. Me, mostly because I don’t have one. So can we have a rational discussion about what happened?”
“While we’re naked?”
“Yep.”
“Fine. When I showed up on Monday, why did you assume your family had something to do with me learning about your application?”
“Because I had a big goddamned fight with them about it on Sunday after the poker game.”
As Dalton told her what’d happened with the McKays, she felt even worse for how she’d handled it with him. “I’m sorry. I was way less than professional.”