More Blazing Bedtime Stories: Once Upon a Mattress by Julie Leto, Leslie Kelly Page B

Give it to me!”
    Rough, passionate, wild. Untamed.
    He did as she asked, grabbing his thick cock in one hand, spreading her legs even wider for his penetration. Then he entered her, hard, deep. She cried out with pleasure, thrusting back, taking everything he had and obviously loving it. At the feel of her, silky smooth, steamy hot and so tight, Lucas could only throw his head back and let out a cry that would sound like a howl to anyone close enough to hear.
    But there was no one. Just him and Penny, thrusting wildly under the stars, lost in lust and sensation and pleasure.
    He didn’t climax as fast as he’d feared, but it didn’t take long. Feeling it build, he tried to slow, not wanting it to end, not wanting to leave her unfulfilled.
    She, however, wouldn’t let him change the pace. “Don’t you dare.” Her body pulled him deep inside, milking, squeezing, egging him on, until, helpless to do anything else, he came in a hot rush, flooding her with his seed.
    He howled again, but even while lost in the throes of pleasure, he had no intention of leaving Penny hanging. Still inside her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up to stand before him, his front pressed to her back. He kissed her neck, ran one hand up to cup a beautiful breast and tweak it. The other he dropped to her sex, stroking her clit until she exploded.
    “Oh, Lucas!”
    The strength seemed to leave her legs and she collapsed back against him, but he didn’t let her fall. Holding her close, he continued to kiss her, caress her, feeling her heart begin to slow and her panting breaths begin to ease.
    “Thank you,” he whispered against her nape.
    “For what?”
    “For helping me find your last tattoo.”
    She laughed and wriggled against him. “Believe me, I didn’t know it was called a tramp stamp when I had it done. I’m really not the type to go around advertising that I’m easy.”
    “You’re not easy,” he whispered.
    You’re mine.
     
    L UCAS HAD CALLED it a border. So Penny had been picturing an invisible line, one that didn’t really exist anywhere but on a map drawn by some surveyor. He hadn’t said it was an actual physical barrier that would make her feel as though she was plunging through a thick layer of wet spiderwebs.
    As Penny followed him through the cloying, reeking tangleof Spanish moss that somehow wasn’t really moss, she wrinkled her nose and tried not to breathe. His hand was wrapped tightly around hers, and she knew he wouldn’t let her go. Which was good, because even after getting through the moss, the air itself seemed to push back against them.
    Crossing this border wasn’t about moving through some low-hanging tree branches. Though not visible, or what she’d call solid, the separation between his world and hers was tangible.
    She gasped with relief when they finally pushed out into clear, fresh air. The freshest air she’d ever inhaled, sweet and flavored with some spice that seemed like it belonged in a bakery instead of out in the wide open spaces.
    “Welcome home,” Lucas said, reaching up to push a few stray twigs from her hair.
    Home. Just like that?
    She didn’t reply at first, slowly shifting her gaze to study her surroundings. The differences between the world she knew and this one were not stark. Despite the smell—Cloves? Nutmeg?—this actually looked much like any small stand of woods. The thing was, a minute ago, she hadn’t been in woods. She’d been standing in a swamp, hearing the croak of ‘gators and the hum of mosquitoes.
    “It’s lovely,” she admitted, wondering why she could so easily see the trees, the layer of pine needles on the ground. Then she realized it was because the sun was already rising. “Wait, how wide is that crossing? Is it morning?”
    “Time is different over here. The days are shorter. You’ll get used to…”
    “Halt! Stop and pay the queen’s toll!”
    Shocked to hear another voice out here in the woods at the break of dawn, Penny