by Kaylea Cross
Relishing her uninhibited response, Luke petted and teased and stroked her softest flesh until she strained back toward him and whimpers of frustration tore from her throat. When she was finally ready, he fitted himself to her entrance and pushed slowly and firmly into her. She gasped and curled her spine, crying out as he filled her and retreated. Luke closed his eyes. She was so tight around him. So goddamn hot and wet he wasn’t sure if he could hold back. “Em...”
“Don’t stop,” she begged, squeezing his wrist tighter.
“I won’t.” Not even if it killed him. He had this one night with her. He was going to make it as loving and memorable as he could.
He gave her more. All of him. Long, slow strokes that stimulated every nerve ending possible. He took her higher and higher, caressing her clit with his fingers as he kept up with the gentle pumping. She was almost there. His own pleasure grew and expanded until it threatened to take over, but he held on for her. Her breathing turned shallow, then a long, liquid moan spilled out and her head went back, eyes closed in rapture.
There. This was where he wanted her. Lost in the pleasure he bestowed. Helpless to do anything but feel.
He kissed the top of her left shoulder, fighting back the need to thrust until he came. So close now. “Almost there, Em.” And once she got there, they were both going to die from the pleasure.
****
Emily wanted to yell at him, but didn’t have the breath. He had her balanced on the absolute precipice, on that razor’s edge of pleasure, but he wouldn’t let her fall. She needed to. Her body was dying for the release. What was he waiting for? She lay still beneath him, trembling, willing him to give her that final caress that would hurl her over the edge. “Luke...” Her voice was ragged and desperate.
He smoothed the wig away from her face with one broad palm, his other fingers stroking where she was wet and aching and desperate for his touch. His lips brushed her ear, the faint prickle of his beard forming goosebumps over her violently sensitized skin.
“Yes, baby, so good...” His voice was like black silk sliding over her. The low, velvet murmur wrung another shiver out of her.
He pressed tight against her back, an unyielding wall of hot, hard muscles, the thick length of his erection buried deep inside her. Stretching and filling her beyond bearing. The heat of it stole her breath. His fingers stayed torturously close to her throbbing clit. Near enough to tease, but not close enough to give her the final caress she needed to send her flying. She was mindless, focused on nothing but the orgasm that hovered maddeningly out of reach. But he took her yet again up to the pinnacle before stopping his caressing fingers at the critical moment that would have detonated the charge inside her.
A soft cry escaped. She couldn’t take any more.
“Shhh,” he whispered against her damp temple, the passion-rough edge of it raking over her senses. “You know I won’t leave you like this.”
But you will leave. It’s only a question of when. She shook her head to erase the thought. God, she needed to come. Just a little more pressure, something. Please.
But Luke maintained that slow, steady rhythm with his hips and fingertips, at once soothing and devastating. Her fingers dug into his wrist like talons. “God—”
“Mmm. You there, sweetheart?”
At insanity? Yes. She nodded, desperate, beyond caring how she looked or that she was begging for release. “Please...”
His low, erotic growl of approval vibrated in her ear, then his hips drove hard against her. His fingers continued their torment between her thighs as he thrust strong and deep. The air locked in her throat. Too intense. She couldn’t bear it.
“Ah yeah,” he whispered. “There it is, sweetheart...”
She was going to die from it. The pleasure was too deep, too huge. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
Luke anchored her firmly to the mattress. “Let yourself go, Em. I’ve got you.”
She didn’t have a choice. Her body clamped down around his burning cock with a hard spasm. A high, choked sob escaped. Lightning gathered and seared her nerve endings. Brilliant colors exploded behind her eyelids, and she screamed as the orgasm finally hit. Wave after wave of unrelenting ecstasy roared through her. And the whole time Luke’s arms were tight around her. She teared up.
When it was over she lay sweating and gasping, her eyelids so heavy she couldn’t lift them. Aftershocks rippled through her inner muscles as she clenched around Luke. He was scalding hot inside her, still thick and hard because he’d waited to ensure her pleasure before seeking his.
Out of nowhere, a lump formed in her throat, expanding until it threatened to choke her with the pressure of the unshed tears burning her eyes. It was as though her orgasm had ripped away any hold she had on her emotions and torn down her protective shields. A quiet sob ripped out of her, and she covered her face with her hands. Trust her to come unglued at such an intimate moment.
But Luke wouldn’t let her hide. He pulled out and turned her onto her back, then gently pushed back into her to join them face to face. Instantly her arms encircled his muscular back. She tucked her face into his throat and prayed he hadn’t seen the terrible scars on her chest.
Luke was still hungry for her, lodged deep inside her body, but she felt the difference in him when he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. His protective shields were down too. It choked her up more. She’d needed that, even more than his lovemaking. To hold him as close and hard as she could while he gave himself to her in return. But now that she’d gotten it, the tears wouldn’t be stopped.
Another sob came, harder than the first, but she couldn’t cover her face and her mastectomy scars at the same time when he raised his head. When she tried, Luke merely caught her wrists and lightly pinned them on either side of her head.
“It’s all right, baby. Tears are part of this,” he whispered, bending to kiss them away. He moved gently within her, a tender caress that soothed as much as it stimulated. It broke the seal on the dam of her tears. They came out in a quiet rush while he stayed above her, eyes on her face as he murmured soothing things she didn’t quite catch. When the tears slowed, she looked up into his handsome face with a sniffle and the smile he gave her filled her heart to overflowing. Dear God she loved him. Had always loved him and would never love another man but him.
Her heart had known it all along. And so had her body.
Still, she tensed when he released one of her wrists to touch the skin beneath her right collarbone. Luke shook his dark head, those liquid eyes looking right into her soul. “I won’t let you hide from me. Or from yourself.” Embedded deep inside her, he raised his upper body to gaze at her, and all she could do was close her eyes in resistance. “Look at me.”
After a long hesitation, she did.
He stared down at her with a powerful mixture of tenderness and hunger. “You think a scar’s going to change how I see you? Feel about you?”
She swallowed and struggled to find her voice. “It’s ugly.”
“You’re fucking beautiful to me, Em. Always.” She opened her mouth to say something but he leaned down to kiss her again. “Give me your hand,” he coaxed, his voice a seductive whisper. She did, tentatively, and his fingers closed around hers in a warm grip. Strong and reassuring. “Accept who you are. Be proud of your body. It’s fighting a war for you.”
He brought her hand to his mouth, nibbling at the base of each of her fingers, sliding his tongue between them as he rocked his hips against hers. Emily gasped and arched her lower back, bringing him deeper. Already the pleasure was building again. How did he to this to her? He was the only man who ever had, and he still knew just how to touch her. Holding her breath, she waited to see what he’d do next, steeling herself for the inevitable moment when he touched her scars.
Holding her gaze, Luke lowered their joined hands to her right collar bone, gently opening her palm before bringing it flush against her hot skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. The deep,
approving tone of his words stroked over her in another caress, buoying her confidence. Using his hand to guide hers, he slid her palm downwards over the flat expanse of her chest where the scars lay. She flinched when she touched them, not because they hurt, but because she hated him seeing them. The surgeon had left the skin and pectoral muscles intact, but the incision site was still disfiguring.
Luke ignored the way she stiffened, bending instead to her other breast. His mouth was a warm, sweet bliss against her rigid nipple. The lazy glide of his tongue as he curled around it sent shocks of sensation between her thighs where he moved in and out. She moaned and slid her free hand into his hair, lifting into the caress. Then he sucked gently, rubbing his tongue over the tip, making her crave the velvet oblivion that awaited them both. She bit down on her lip and let her body relax.
This was the difference between Luke and the other men she’d been with. Right from the start, Luke had taken the time to find out what she liked, committing every detail from that very first time to memory. And he enjoyed giving her what she liked. Genuinely loved giving her pleasure. He got off on that almost as much as he did reducing her to quivering, mindless need with his unique brand of sexual dominance. It showed in his touch and in the care he took to make sure he satisfied her. Every single time. Like now, when he was slowly killing her with her body’s response to his seduction. And obviously loving every minute of it.
Drowning in sensation, she barely noticed when he released her hand and settled his warm palm over her racing heart. His fingers traced every inch of the scars on the right side of her chest while he pleasured her left breast. After one last slow suck, he pulled free over her protests and leaned down to press kisses in the wake of his fingertips. Emily wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, trembling all over. He was so tender with her. It broke her heart.
The touch of his mouth on the scars brought a lump to her throat. Oh God, she’d missed him. Missed this explosive passion and the intimacy between them. What she felt was too deep for tears, or words. He was healing her with his touch and kisses, and she understood that’s exactly what he’d set out to do. But she wanted more of the blinding heat she could only find in his arms.
She turned his head toward hers and kissed him, teasing his tongue, pouring everything she was into it. “Love me,” she breathed against his lips.
“Always.”
Her heart stuttered for an instant but then he made a dark, hungry sound and kissed her with ravenous need. Slow and deep and so erotic she felt her belly clench. Had he meant what he’d just said? She couldn’t answer him. She was too blind with need.
Luke moaned into her mouth and settled back atop her, moving with greater power while he surged in and out of her greedy core, breathing roughly. Then he shifted onto his knees and drove even deeper.
Craving more, she guided his head back to her breast and hummed in approval as his mouth lavished more wicked attention on her nipple. Her hands trailed over his back and shoulders, luxuriating in his strength and the loving concentration he gave her. More. She never wanted this to end. He shifted his weight and gently laid his thumb over her swollen clit, and the pleasure intensified so fast that in seconds she was gasping and whimpering. He was so good... So amazingly good. “Luke...”
“Yeah baby, come for me again,” he growled, thrusting deep as he licked and sucked her sensitive nipple and his thumb caressed her slick nub. So perfect.
Sighing, she widened her thighs and wrapped them high around his waist, urging him to take more, give more. That familiar tide of ecstasy rose within her, climbing higher. Against her breast, Luke’s head tipped back on a tortured moan. So close to the edge of release she could see the beautiful agony of it on his face. She clung to him, urging him on with her cries of pleasure and her nails in his back. In response he stretched out on top of her and lengthened his thrusts, stroking every nerve ending inside her aching core. The orgasm exploded and forced a low wail from her, and only Luke’s heavy weight kept her safely grounded as she soared outside her body for a moment.
When she came back to earth, his hips drove deep one last time and a growl ripped out of him as the wrenching pulses of release coursed through his big body. He finally stilled and dropped his head against her shoulder, breathing hard. The smooth skin on his back was damp with sweat.
Smiling contentedly, Emily cradled him in her arms, stroking his soft, thick hair. For the first time since the hysterectomy and mastectomy, she felt whole. Feminine and desirable. Beautiful, even. Because of Luke. In less than one night he’d managed to make her feel like the sexiest woman alive.
But you’re still dying.
Her fingers froze in his hair. She shoved the thought from her mind before it could take hold and ruin the fragile intimacy of the moment.
Rising up on his hands, Luke gave her a slow, sexy smile and leaned down to kiss her. His lips were tender, his tongue caressing hers with lazy movements. Her eyelids drifted down as she savored the sweet contact. She didn’t open her eyes when he pulled away, but her mouth pulled into a pout when he withdrew.
He let out a low chuckle and kissed the tip of her nose. “Be right back.” He drew the covers over her.
“‘Kay,” she sighed, rolling onto her side. She must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew a cold draft touched her skin. Then Luke slid in beside her with a warm, damp cloth. He gently wiped her face and neck, moving down to her chest. She didn’t protest when he touched her scars, merely turned onto her back and let him stroke the cloth over her body. This was another thing she’d missed about him. Luke always took care of her after they made love because her comfort mattered to him as much as her pleasure did. He was the most amazing and considerate lover any woman could wish for. Adding in the depth of her love, was it any wonder she’d never gotten over him?
He washed slowly down her abdomen and between her thighs before leaving the bed. When he came back he shifted her onto her side and spooned up tight against her back, tucking his thighs beneath hers to hold her in the cradle of his body. She couldn’t stop the groan of enjoyment from escaping when the hard planes of his muscles pressed against her. Her body was warm and sated, boneless. After more than twenty years, she was finally where she’d always wanted to be, secure in Luke’s loving arms. And she intended to savor every second of it for as long as it lasted.
If she could only stay awake.
Luke nuzzled the back of her neck, arms holding her tight. “Let yourself go, sweetheart.”
“You too,” she mumbled, already sliding into sleep, reassuring herself she’d have plenty of time to tell him how she felt in the morning.
Chapter Fourteen
Waking up the next time was like drifting through layers of fog. Her brain was sluggish, having trouble coming online, and her limbs were leaden. Between her thighs a lingering dampness made her smile and snuggle closer to the powerful body that had cradled her all night.
Except Luke wasn’t there.
Her eyes sprang open. She turned over and sat up, taking in the indentation in the pillow next to hers. What time was it? Bright light seeped through the edge of the roman blinds on the windows. She glanced at the clock. Stared. That couldn’t be right. Did it say one seventeen? As in, early afternoon? She had an oncology appointment soon.
“Shit,” she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and grabbing for her robe at the foot of it. Something caught around her neck as she drew it on. Her fingers touched the chain snagged on the robe. Stomach knotting, she looked down. Luke’s St. Christopher medallion hung from her neck. He must have put it on her before he left.
As a goodbye.
No. She refused to believe it. Scrambling from the bed, heart in her throat, she rushed to the connecting bath. The door was open. “Luke?” she called. But it was empty.
He wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. But he already said goodbye, that whisper in her mind pointed out. It’s hanging around your neck.
&n
bsp; Screw that. Emily tore out of his room and checked hers, but it was empty also. Running down the stairs, she called his name, fighting to stay calm. He might be in the study.
She raced into the kitchen, and skidded to a stop when Nev looked up at her from her seat at the island, a cup of coffee steaming at her elbow. Her pretty blue eyes were red and swollen. Emily’s heart sank like a rock.
“Hey,” Nev said.
Emily swallowed. “Where’s Luke?”
Nev tilted her head, frowning at her. “They left hours ago.”
Her heart drummed loud in her ears. “Left for where?” He wouldn’t go without telling her. Not after last night. He wouldn’t do that to her.
“A meeting of some kind and then the airfield.”
A hole opened up in her gut. She was afraid she already knew the answer to her next question, but needed to ask it anyway. “Where are they going?”
“Afghanistan.”
Emily swayed and grabbed the edge of the island. “God,” she whispered, sick to her stomach. It pitched and rolled beneath her ribs, clamped up so hard it hurt.
“I thought you knew.”
She managed to shake her head. “He didn’t say anything.” And she hadn’t asked. Why the hell hadn’t she asked him?
“They got fresh intel after the meeting they had last night. Luke didn’t want to risk missing Tehrazzi again.”
She couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her. Her gaze wandered around the room, her brain unable to process that he’d gone. The St. Christopher medallion seemed to singe her skin where it lay over her breaking heart. “Did—did he say when they’ll be back?”
Nev’s face scrunched as she looked down into her coffee. “No.”
Emily wanted to wail from the pain. Luke had finally admitted he still loved her, but she hadn’t said the words back. Now it was too late.
No. She straightened her spine. The hell it was. The goddamn hell it was.