He stared down at her, bright eyes an almost unholy glow, skin pulled taut over his cheekbones, his glistening mouth hard. With deft movements, he sheathed himself and she lifted her arms, reaching for him. Inviting him. Welcoming him.
His hands flattened on either side of her hips, and he crawled over her, not stopping until his mouth hovered above hers. And when he crashed his lips to hers, his tongue sliding over hers, dueling, making her taste herself on him, she didn’t resist. No, she took, took, took.
“Ask me to come in,” he growled against her.
She circled her arms around his neck and rolled her desperate, throbbing sex over him. “Please,” she whimpered, nipping his chin, his bottom lip and kissing the sting from both of them. “Come inside me. Make the emptiness go away.”
No sooner did the plea escape her, than he plunged. Stretching her. Filling her.
Branding her.
Nothing could’ve prepared her for him. For the strength of him. The power of him. Of this sense of completion.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he grated in her ear. And on a gust, she released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, her pulse thumping in her ears. “You okay?” He brushed a kiss over her brow, the bridge of her nose and finally, her mouth. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”
She shifted beneath him, andoh God. “Move,” she gasped. Winding her legs around his waist, she undulated beneath him, and another cry broke free. “Move now.”
He didn’t ask her if she was sure, just took her at her word. Like the reins tethering his control had snapped, he withdrew from her until only the tip stretched her opening. Then buried himself inside her, propelling a scream from her lungs.
“So good,” she breathed. “Too good.”
“Never,” he grunted, his hips grinding against hers, directly over the bundle of nerves where pleasure coiled and pulsed. “It’s never too good.”
Curling a hand behind her neck, he crushed his mouth to hers, taking her lips even as his steel-hard flesh took her body. He drove into her, riding her, molding her to him so that she fit only him. Craved only him. As she arched beneath him, writhing and bucking, she knew,knew, that he’d ruined her for anyone else. No one had ever made her feel as if she were dying and being reborn at the same time.
She dug her fingernails into his taut shoulders, moaning into his mouth. He swallowed the sound and gave her back his own in return. There wasn’t any way she could survive this. Not intact. But as he powered into her, hooking a hand under her knee and pushing her leg toward her chest so he could bury himself deeper, she couldn’t care.
“Cain.” She jerked her head back, pressed it against the floor. “Please.”
“Look at me,” he growled, pinching her chin and tugging her back down to meet his lust-brightened eyes. “Look at me and let go.”
With his dark command and a grind of the base of his cock over her sex, she did. She let go and shattered. Just fragmented into so many pieces it should’ve scared her. But she felt only the purity of pleasure...and freedom.
She fell into the abyss, and as Cain stiffened and thrust in broken, desperate strokes, she knew neither one of them would be alone.
At least not for tonight.
Twelve
Cain studied the road before him, the white dotted lines blurring under his focus. At one o’clock in the morning, Boston might not have been asleep but little traffic cluttered the streets from Beacon Hill to Back Bay. The drive should take only ten minutes. But with the woman sitting silently beside him in the car and the tension thick, the trip stretched for much longer.
He couldn’t decide if he longed for this drive to be over, or to prolong it until he could empty himself of the confusion, remorse, guilt—andneed—stretching him so thin one move might snap him in two.
Goddammit, he should’ve never touched her.
Never put his mouth on her.
Never slid deep into a body so soft and tight he’d been both embraced and strangled. Been caressed and bruised. Been drained dry and strengthened.
Devon had fucked not only his body but his mind. She’d left him trembling like a damn colt on unfamiliar legs. And yet, as he’d eased out of her, regretting the loss of her snug, quivering sex, he’d been...alive. For the first time in, God, so many years. Blood had sung through his veins as if he’d just returned from battle. He’d been euphoric and yes, at peace.
He’d had sex before. And it’d been pleasurable, fun, even dirty at times. But never had it humbled him. Invigorated him. Twisted him in so many knots he resembled a snarled ball of yarn.
Never had it begun with a hug that nearly broke him so every secret, every fear and longing poured out of the cracks.
But then, he’d never had sex with Devon Cole before.
It couldn’t happen again.
