Back River Quiver Page 5

  Rixen did his best to content himself watching Morgan crouch down and go up on her toes to catch different angles, even though his cock was a stiff rod inside his jeans. At one point, she couldn’t get high enough for a shot, so Rixen threw her up on one shoulder. It felt so good providing a place for her to rest, he continued the remaining distance to his brother’s house with Morgan seated there. Her creamy, naked thighs so close to his mouth did nothing to ease his aroused condition, but the sound of her giggle sent a happy jolt to his heart.

  That happy jolt waned when his youngest brother answered the door, a toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth. The little piece of wood fell to the ground when he caught sight of Morgan, his posture going from lazy to alert. “This…” Rod started. “This is your bride, Rixen?”

  Morgan shifted from her perch. “Bride?”

  The awe in Rod’s voice had not pleased him. In fact, nothing about his brothers pleased him, but they were family and Rixen, as the oldest, refused to shirk his commitment to them. It was written in blood, whether he liked it or not. “Yes.” He let Morgan slide off his shoulder, catching her against his chest. “She is mine.”

  His middle brother, Gus, joined Rod in the doorway. “No way.” He gave a rasping laugh. “Is she blind or some shit?”

  “Yeah.” Both brothers doubled over, laughing in earnest now. “She couldn’t have actually seen you, brother.”

  Gus took a step closer—too close—and Rixen growled, curving his body around Morgan protectively. “Blink twice if you’re being held against your will,” Gus said on the tail end of a guffaw. “Girl looks like you, she has to have better options. Any other options.”

  Dread settled in Rixen’s belly. This was it. Morgan was going to seek aid from his own brothers. The men who’d been ridiculing him since they learned how to speak. Since they realized he was bigger and uglier than everyone else. Instead, Moran skirted around Rixen and extended her hand toward Gus and Rod. “I’m Morgan. The gift. Nice to meet you.” She shook both of their hands. “Now if you’re finished being dicks, maybe you could invite us in?”

  Chapter 7

  Morgan

  As they ate their meal, Morgan quickly saw what was happening in this corner of the swamp. Rixen’s brothers were awful people. Truly awful. They poked fun at Rixen, insulting him, trying to get a rise out of him. And he never once took the bait, simply making sure Morgan had everything she needed, watching her eat with affection written on his features.

  Gus and Rod were jealous of their older brother. It was obvious. He was bigger, smarter, smelled better, had more patience and the sweeter crib. Even their wives, who mostly remained quiet in the midst of their husbands’ obnoxious mealtime antics, seemed relieved to have Rixen around. As if he was proof that men could be decent, even if theirs couldn’t.

  For Morgan’s part, she was really beginning to get pissed.

  Around the tenth time Gus and Rod commented on Rixen’s new bride obviously being held under duress—because no sane woman would want such a monster—she came to a decision. They were going to eat their words. Today. Fine, she was being held against her will, but not in the way they suggested. As if she’d been clubbed and dragged back to a cave, chained there and treated like a prisoner. It hadn’t been like that.

  Rixen treated her like a princess.

  Guilt moved in as the plates were cleared from the table. She hadn’t exactly been nice to Rixen, either, since they’d met. On the way there, she’d even called him a kidnapper. Meanwhile he’d paraded her around the bayou on his slab of muscle shoulder and told her she was important. More than that, he listened to her. Asked her what she wanted. When had anyone ever done that for her and meant it?

  “We’ve got a leaking pipe under the sink,” said Gus’s wife. “I’ll just bring these out back to the creek.”

  “I’ll help,” said Rod’s wife with a long-suffering sigh, rising from the table.

  Morgan knew she should offer to help, but she had work to do.

  Rixen pushed back from the table. “I’ll take a look at the pipe.”

  The woman of the house smiled. “Oh, thank you, Rix—”

  “Don’t need you looking at the pipe in my own house,” Rod sneered, bashing a fist off the table. “I said I would get around to the fucking thing.” The wives of the men didn’t comment, simply leaving the small home while the men faced off across the table. “Don’t worry about my responsibilities. Worry about your woman leaving your ugly ass behind as soon as she gets the chance.”

  Gus piped in. “Maybe she forgot what she looks like, since your face done broke all the mirrors hanging in your house.” He leered at Morgan and she heard a low growl kindling in Rixen’s throat. “I’m here to remind you, sweetheart, you are f—”

  Morgan lunged to her feet, sensing that if Gus finished that sentence, his wife was going to be cleaning up a lot more than plates. Like a crime scene. “Rixen, can I talk to you in private?” She went to him and danced her fingers up his chest. “Please?”

  The P word seemed to grab his attention. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Fine, so she could stand to be a little more polite if saying please made him question her health. “Actually, I…” She crooked her finger for him to lower his head. “I need you to hold me,” she whispered in his ear, feeling her nipples peak inside her tank top at the truth of her words. “I miss you touching me.”

  His chest moved like a shifting mountain range. “You do?”

  “Yes.” She wound her arms around his neck, settling her body against him, dragging it side to side. “I don’t think I can wait until we get home.”

  Rixen’s erection rose so quickly, she gasped, moisture trickling between her legs and dampening the seam of her shorts. She could feel both brothers watching in stupefied silence and grew even more determined to make them feel like idiots. Yeah, her method was kind of naughty and unconventional. But she was probably never going to see them again, right? It wouldn’t hurt to give Rixen this moment to hold close next time they treated their own brother like an outcast.

  “Morgan…” Rixen started in his charred cigar ashes voice. “We are not alone.”

  “I know.” She hit him with a pleading pout and he caved, right then and there, his jaw slackening, eyes molten. “I want you inside me. You feel so good there.”

  She was ripped from the floor with a growl, carried against Rixen’s heaving chest to what she assumed was the closest bedroom. His loud strides thundered on the floorboards, a satisfying silence following them from the dining room.

  That’s right, bitches. Rixen is about to get it.

  “When you speak to me like this, Morgan, I fear for my self-control.” He buttonhooked into a dark room and kicked the door shut, throwing her up against it. Hard. And volcanic heat stole through Morgan having his giant body pin her there. She felt small and feminine and breakable with her feet dangling off the ground—it thrilled her. Made the flesh between her legs quicken, searching for its new…mate. Mate. Had she just thought that word without a single hesitation? How could such a primal word possibly feel so right?

  But it did. When Rixen’s big, hungry sex welded itself to the juncture of her thighs and he began thrusting, fucking her through their clothes against the door, she felt animalistic. Willing prey for a godlike predator. Slamslamslam he dry-humped her into the hard lumber, snarling filthy curse words into her neck.

  “I want to give,” Morgan whimpered. “I want you to take.”

  “No. No, my gift. The beast is already taking over.” He ground into her hard, his teeth snapping at her bottom lip and catching it. “I had no control when you were scared. But this? You wanting me…asking for me? My restraint is no match for such a miracle.”

  His admission reminded Morgan of her mission to make Rixen understand his appeal. To believe how worthy he was, despite what his brothers had made him believe. She wiggled her way down to her knees, which turned out was quite a drop. Thankfully, Rixen caught her under the arm
s at the last second, easing her down to the floorboards. There she was, kneeling in front of a man. A humongous man. His erection jutted crudely against his fly, a spreading damp spot marking the tip. Christ. It was massive. How could her small, inexperienced mouth possibly give him what he needed?

  Rixen attempted to draw her to her feet once again. “You must not, Morgan. I haven’t even allowed myself to imagine fucking your little mouth.” His stomach shuddered, he groaned loudly, and more moisture appeared on the lap of his jeans. “I will lick you instead. I am starved for you.”

  “No, I want this,” she whispered, gathering her courage and unfastening his jeans, swallowing heavily when his manhood sprang free, purple and angry looking. It was just like the rest of Rixen. Fearsome, but beautiful in its vulnerability. It needed her. Morgan scooted forward on her knees and took Rixen in her mouth, forcing her lips to stretch wide enough to accept the head. Saltiness greeted her tongue and coasted down her throat. Rixen fell forward and braced himself on the door, forming a manmade bridge of muscle above her.

  Damn. He was…glorious. As she suckled him, her hands lifting to stroke in twisting motions, his ten-pack abs flexed and shook, his nipples crowning into hard points. Best seat in the house, she thought in a daze, his taste beginning to consume her. It was brutally male and tangy and…addictive. Along with his short, bursting groans and the awestruck way he watched Morgan take his flesh into her mouth, she started enjoying herself. A lot.

  Her breaths came faster and faster through her nose, her hands moving quicker, greased by his spurts of come. His sweat. Her saliva. The combination of all three covered her lips as she sank him deeper, farther toward her throat with every effort. On the other side of the door, she heard floorboards creak, but couldn’t have cared less by that point. This stolen time together might have started as a way to give Gus and Rod the middle finger, but now it was only about Rixen. Her. Them together. Feeding this fever.

  “Is this how you want Daddy to tuck you in at night?” The fingers of Rixen’s right hand tangled in her hair. His hips crowded her until the back of her head was trapped on the door, Rixen’s hand cushioning it against the hardness. “Answer me with your eyes.”

  Feeling as though she’d slipped into a trance, Morgan looked up at Rixen with pleading eyes, massaging the underside of his meaty arousal with her tongue. Yes. I want that.

  “You’ll never know another’s taste but mine. Nod your pretty little head to let me know you understand.” He pushed deeper than ever, nudging the very back of her throat. “That cock filling your mouth is your breeder. I am your breeder. Know my taste.”

  Oh my god. Morgan’s inner walls clenched so hard, she cried out around Rixen’s erection, her fingers growing restless on his thighs. She needed him. Already she was dancing toward the edge of the precipice, thanks to his possessiveness. Is this what she wanted? To be owned by this man and made to have his babies? Yes. Yes. In this moment, she could want nothing more. She made a mewling sound and his hard flesh left her mouth, the absence of her anchor making her pitch sideways on her knees.

  No matter, though. Rixen hefted her up, and without a single toe touching the ground, she was impaled by his thick sex against the door. With such force, the whole wall seemed to shake, along with her womb. Her vocal cords vibrated, too, her scream hanging in the air like a cloud of mist. It wasn’t any normal scream, however. No, it had a name.

  “Daddy.”

  Sunk inside her to the hilt, Rixen stilled and bared his teeth. “Say it again, Morgan. Who is the master of this pussy? Who will breed you at his will?”

  “Daddy,” she sobbed, her intimate muscles tightening up around him. A flood of heat raged through her pooling where their bodies joined. She needed relief. Needed him. Needed so bad. “Rixen. Please!”

  His forehead pressed to hers, his hips beginning a slow, teasing fuck where she needed fast, hard, mean. But the light hazel of his eyes drew her in. So much intensity there. “Why did you do this here?”

  “Because I needed you,” she said in a rush, climbing his hips with restless thighs, trying to entice him into thrusting. Hard enough that she would see stars. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Tell me all of it, my gift.”

  Morgan made a frustrated sound. “Because you’re special. You’re important. You’re more than worthy of me, and I wanted them to know it. I wanted them to hear it.” Rixen gave her a single hard drive and she cried out, her heels digging into the meat of his ass. “B-but now I can’t think of anything but you. There’s just you.”

  Their eyes locked and something turned over in Morgan’s chest. Something huge and scary. Wanting to avoid it and focus simply on the pleasure, she leaned in and coaxed Rixen’s sculpted mouth into a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned into a frenzy, his hips bucking in time with his tongue, the slant of his head.

  “My Morgan,” he rasped in between a hurried meeting of tongues. “I thought my maker would send me a mere partner. A suitable mate. Instead I’ve found the missing piece to my soul. I’ve found my reason for being on this earth.”

  Her heart squeezed hard enough to steal her breath. “Rixen…”

  “Shhh. We have time to speak of these things.” He groaned into a door-rattling thrust. Then another. Another. “Now I must breed you. Your body demands it.”

  “Does it?”

  He pressed their cheeks together and gave an uneven nod, his breath turning labored. “Close your eyes. Feel how your cunt begs Daddy to fill it with his come.”

  Those words alone had the power to push Morgan over the edge, but with the last of her coherency, she did as Rixen asked. Because obeying him in this position felt natural. Felt right. Not to mention hot. Her eyelids fell, her focus dropping to their joined lower bodies. And oh my God, Rixen was right. Her sex clenched and rippled around him, stroking him to release without a formal command from her brain. It worshipped him, tightening and releasing around the incredible length of his manhood, root to tip. Begging.

  “Don’t make me beg too hard, Daddy,” Morgan whispered, arching her back. “I have the taste of you in my mouth, now I want it everywhere.”

  That set him off, his hips brutalizing her with a wicked pace. Again, she heard whispers on the other side of the door but ignored them. Could think of nothing else but Rixen’s hardness filling her over and over, smacking her bottom up against the door with the force of his movements. “My seed will drip down your legs as we walk home. You will smile and leave it to dry in the sun.”

  “Yes, Daddy!” she screamed, the tide inside her beginning to rise. “Give me it.”

  Rixen tossed back his head and roared, giving her three final pumps, before grinding her into the door with his huge member—and the world fragmented around her. Again, she screamed, her muscles seizing, entire body shaking where she remained pinned like a rag doll against the door by her big enforcer. In the throes, Rixen socked a fist into the wall beside her head, his jagged moan accompanying the sluicing sound between their bodies. Bodies melded, trying to climb inside one another. Rixen gave another stuttered thrust. Another. He shook violently and in turn, so did she. Wet heat flooded Morgan and she swore she could feel her body absorbing as much as possible. Desperately. Craving the planting of Rixen’s seed. When she thought he’d finished, he only kept her thighs aloft in strong hands, slowly fucking into Morgan the rest of what he had inside himself.

  He looked her in the eyes while he did it. While her body clamored to keep what he gave her. “Rixen,” she breathed.

  “Morgan.” He smacked a fist to his left pec, right over his heart. “My Morgan.”

  She could only nod, the future still unclear…but slowly beginning to take shape.

  No one would ever make her feel this safe, this loved, this desired ever again. It just didn’t happen twice. Her youth and inexperience didn’t matter—it was fact. This thing between them was not typical. It was…amazing.

  “Take me home,” she said, laying her head on his chest.

>   Inside it, Rixen’s heart thundered. “Always, my gift.”

  They took a while to get dressed and hold each other, Rixen unable to stop kissing her neck, face and knuckles, his smile coming more and more easily. And minutes later, Morgan couldn’t admit to more than a little smugness when Rixen carried her limp body past his brothers and out the door, neither one of them sparing the idiots a glance.

  Chapter 8

  Rixen

  The next twenty-four hours were the happiest of Rixen’s life. Morgan seemed to relax once they left his brother’s home. He stopped fearing she would run every time he turned his back or left the room. Every once in a while, he even caught her watching him. Lustfully. A fact he still couldn’t wrap his mind around. This angel with big turquoise eyes and a compassionate heart wanted him. Wanted his cock inside her at all hours of the day, to be exact.

  In between lazy conversations about their childhoods and favorite foods, books and hobbies, Rixen fucked her every time his dick got hard. Which was frequent. It didn’t help that her only tank top was now stretched out from their rough play at his brother’s home. Now it barely covered her delicious pink nipples. Her thighs, her mouth, her scent, her voice. All of these things proved too tempting over and over again. Sometimes Morgan would be mid-sentence, telling him about something called Real Housewives and Rixen would have to unzip his pants to accommodate his growing length. She was simply too beautiful, too good to be true, too tight between her thighs. One day they would make it to nightfall without Rixen having to molest her on the closest flat surface while she screamed and clawed at his shoulders, but he suspected it might take years. His sac seemed to fill twice as fast now that she’d arrived, his desire to get her pregnant fierce and undeniable.