by Amy Sandas
She sucked in a deep breath to calm her rising frustration. Her voice was surprisingly steady as she continued, “I am well aware of the dangers this world holds. Does that mean I must stay cooped up inside with people at my elbow every minute of the day? Should I never have the freedom to spread my arms and breathe and laugh and live? Should I forever exist in fear?”
Malcolm’s expression had hardened to stone, and his gaze had grown impossibly dark, but he said nothing to interrupt her.
She shook her head slowly from side to side. “I did that for five years, Malcolm, and I’m tired of it. I want to live. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to be free to be myself in this wide and wonderful world,” she said with rising fervor as she sent a sweeping glance around the meadow. “And if that means sometimes going off by myself, trusting myself, that’s what I’m going to do.” She paused, her breath coming fast and her heart racing from the depth and passion of her confession.
It was the truest thing she had ever said.
Freedom. Freedom to make mistakes, to go out in the world with the confidence that she would find her way and be all right in the end. That is all she wanted, and it was everything she had been missing in Boston, where life had been about carefully following the established rules and expectations.
There was little risk in a life like that and no adventure.
She stared at him as intently as he stared at her.
Alexandra wanted adventure. She wanted to face danger and head into the unknown. She wanted desire and…more. But mostly, she wanted him to understand. “And if I want to feel the touch of your hands on my body, I’m going to ask for it. And if I enjoy the way you kiss me, I’m going to kiss you back, and I’m going to want more. I won’t apologize for it. If you can’t accept that, then you should walk away right now, Malcolm, because I’m not going to.”
He stood stiff and unmoving. His arms were still crossed over his chest, and the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed the taut ropes of muscle in his forearms. The open collar of his shirt allowed her to see the swift beating of his pulse at the base of his neck. For all his stillness, there was an energy seething within him, just below the surface. It was evident in his eyes most of all, where the steely gray flashed beneath the heavy shadow of his brow with deadly intent.
He was furious, the muscles of his jaw tensing with barely contained anger. “Who hurt you? Tell me who dared try to take something from you, and I swear I’ll—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone hard, knowing what he was going to say. “It was a long time ago.”
He stared at her, hard and searching. Then he gave a short nod of acknowledgment. Taking a dragging breath, he filled his chest before expelling it again. All the while, those steel-gray eyes of his remained on her.
“You want more?” he finally asked.
The question filled her with anticipation. “I do.”
He lowered his head, the brim of his hat briefly breaking their eye contact. “I told you last night I can’t make any promises.”
“And I told you I don’t need any,” she replied. Dropping her pants to the ground, she stepped up to him, pressing her hands flat against his chest. “I just want you, Malcolm, for however long that lasts.”
He brought his chin back up, and the look in his eyes sent wonderful, exciting arcs of desire through her center.
“Have it your way, then,” he muttered before he uncrossed his arms and wrapped them tight around her waist, drawing her in against him and up off her feet before he took her mouth in a burning kiss.
Just like last night, there was no gentle seduction, no sweet words. Just fire and passion. And it was everything Alexandra needed. Her confession had left her drained and invigorated at once, and she held him fast to her as she returned his kiss with reckless abandon. The heat of his body soaked past her cool, damp clothes to heat her chilled skin and fan the flame deep inside her. She became so instantly lost in him that she barely noticed when he lowered her to the grass.
He hovered over her for a moment, propped on his elbow, while he brought his hand up to cradle the side of her face. His gaze was intense. Though he looked like he wanted to say something, he remained silent. Then he slid his hand down the side of her throat, using his thumb to tip up her chin, before he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her waiting mouth. After a deep, drugging kiss, he slid his lips to the spot where her pulse beat swiftly at the side of her throat, sucking her flesh against his teeth.
Alexandra sighed and stretched beneath him, bringing one leg up along his until her inner thigh pressed against his hip. He dragged his lips lower, across her collarbone as he slipped the strap off her shoulder, baring her breast.
The sun, the cool air, and then his mouth covered her.
She arched. Lifting herself toward him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, knocking his hat off to the side. She wanted to feel him. All of him.
With a small sound in the back of her throat, she brought her hands to his shoulders to push him away until he sat back on his heels beside her.
He gave her a questioning look. But she just smiled as she sat up and reached for the buttons of his shirt. The remaining strap slid down her shoulder, and his gaze fell to her naked breasts.
The heat in his eyes was enough to rush the movements of her fingers. She was suddenly anxious to bare his chest so she could press herself against him. Skin to skin. Heart to beating heart.
Careful of his injury, she eased his shirt off his shoulders and then tugged it down his arms until it could be tossed aside. Splaying her hands on his spread thighs, she rose up on her knees, bringing her breasts level with his gaze.
He immediately reached for them, cupping them in his large hands, kneading and lifting. He brushed his wide, callused thumbs over the peaks until she shivered at the sensation and dropped her head back with a sigh.
Then he too rose to his knees, wrapping his arms around her to draw her in close, just as she wanted. Her full breasts flattened against the heat of his skin, smooth over the hard contours of his chest covered in a crisp sprinkling of hair. She slid her arms around his neck and gave him her mouth with a low moan.
His kiss—as she expected, as she craved—was hot, open, and deep. This was no sweet seduction of soft, sipping lips. It was a passionate tangle of tongues and scrape of teeth. It was demanding and consuming.
Alexandra tossed herself into the fray. Giving of herself in a way that would have frightened her if not for the pleasure she’d discovered in the willful act of surrender.
With a harsh grunt in the back of his throat, he tightened his arm to lift and turn her so he could lay her down again. He followed her to the ground, covering her now with weighted muscle and hot skin. She parted her legs, wanting to feel him there where she ached. As he settled his hips between her thighs, she gasped quietly against his mouth. Her hands clutched his upper arms.
He lifted his head, breaking the kiss.
With a flicker of her lashes, she tried to meet his gaze, but the bright sun made it difficult to see his features. She could only hear his ragged breath and feel it warm against her face. She could also feel his heat surrounding her and his hardness pressing between her thighs.
Goodness, why did he stop?
She tried to pull him down to her again, but he resisted.
“Malcolm,” she said finally, allowing her frustration to show in her tone.
His answer was a deliberate roll of his hips that had her gasping. Shifting her legs and arching her back, she tried to encourage more of the wonderful pressure and friction along the heated flesh between her thighs.
He obliged with a forceful thrust of his hips.
A soft moan slid from her throat, and she swore she heard a similar sound from him as the muscles of his arms tensed beneath her hands.
Releasing her grip, she slid her hands around his back.
The ridges of muscle along the valley of his spine intrigued her, and she followed them down to the dip of his low back and then farther to his firm buttocks. Splaying her hands, she bent her knees along his hips, creating a deeper cradle as she urged him to another rolling thrust. “More,” she murmured, incapable of saying anything more articulate.
The next thrust sent a rush of sensation straight through her center. She was suddenly desperate to remove the layers of clothing between them. As she reached for the waistband of his pants, intending to do whatever it took to get them off him, he pulled away.
Before she could protest, he grasped her hands in his and rose to his feet, pulling her up along with him.
“What are you doing? What is the matter?” she asked, panicked that he might think to leave her.
“We can’t do this here,” he replied in a low tone, thick with tension as he drew the straps of her undergarment back up on her shoulders.
“Then where?” In her lustful befuddlement, Alexandra still was not sure she comprehended. How could he stop so abruptly when all she wanted was to reach out to him again, feel his skin under her hands, his mouth on her body.
“To the cabin. Come on. The quicker we get back, the sooner I can have you naked.”
The hunger, the predatory light of possession in his eyes, made her legs feel weak. “Yes,” she said breathlessly, “let’s hurry.”
Thirty-Three
They made the walk back to the cabin in a silence thick with anticipation. Her hand was secure in his the entire way. Such a simple, schoolgirl gesture of affection, but to Alexandra, it was an indication that he did not want to sever their connection any more than she did, even for the time it took to wend their way along the creek.
As soon as they stepped inside the cabin, Malcolm released her and strode toward the fireplace. In swift movements, he stirred the coals to life and added some wood until the fire filled the room with warmth.
When he finally turned back to her, the heat in his gaze rivaled that from the fire, and her breath caught harshly in her lungs. His desire hadn’t diminished during their walk from the lake. If anything, it had intensified.
So had hers.
She knew what she was about to do. She understood the consequences and the risks in giving herself to this man. But she could not imagine doing anything else. She needed him. And he needed her.
As if in silent communion, they started toward each other at the same time, meeting beside the bed.
Alexandra reached for the buttons of his shirt, then laughed when he simply grasped the hem of her shirt and lifted it up over her head. As soon as she could, she stripped him of his shirt as well, then switched to the belt securing her pants as he kicked himself free of his boots and began to remove his pants.
After dropping her pants to the floor, she kicked them aside, then made quick work of unstrapping her knife and removing her boots, stockings, and underclothes.
Finally, naked and breathless, she stopped to shake her hair back from her face. She hadn’t bothered to rebraid it, and the length fell free and untamed down her bare back. Her breath was quite violently sucked from her body as she caught sight of him standing in front of her, as naked as she was.
Though she had seen much of his fine-sculpted torso during the days she’d treated his injury and since, it was still a shock to her system to finally see him in full.
Her eyes fell down the hard length of his body, noting his well-muscled legs and handsomely formed feet. Unable to resist her curiosity, her gaze settled on that very male part of him that extended hard and ready from his groin.
She wanted to touch him.
Taking a slow step toward him, she reached out to brush her fingers over his straining tip. He was unexpectedly smooth and so hot. Feeling bold, she ran her finger down the length of him. It was fascinating to her—how beautiful that male body part was. Encouraged by his stillness, she stepped in closer. Her head was bowed as she gently wrapped her fingers around him. He was so hard. She tightened her grip, making him pulse and throb in her hand.
She risked a peek at his face.
He stared back at her with heavy-lidded eyes that still managed to shine brightly with his desire, while his jaw clenched with taut muscle and his breath came swiftly through flared nostrils.
The power within him—the strength and passion and fire so intently contained—overwhelmed her in a wonderful way. She felt weak and strong at once. Powerful even as her insides melted like honey. Such a contradiction. The desire to give and take. The hunger and the fulfilment.
“You still want more?” he asked, his voice thick and raw.
She tightened her grip on him, which had him sucking in a swift breath through his teeth. “I want it all,” she declared.
He narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits, then grasped her hips and pulled her roughly to him. Her hand, still wrapped around him, became trapped between their bodies. She tipped her head back and offered her lips. “Now,” she added.
With a growl, he kissed her. His hands moved to cup her rear, and he walked her back toward the bed. They fell to the mattress, her legs parting naturally to accommodate his hips.
He moved over her, settling his weight on his good arm, positioning himself so he rested intimately along the entrance to her body. She tried to roll her hips, wanting to feel more of him, moaning as his tongue plunged past her teeth instead. It was a fierce mating of mouths, and when he shifted his hungry kisses to the side of her throat, she gasped for breath. He scraped his teeth across her shoulder, sliding his body lower.
His lips fell to her breast. Her soft flesh was drawn deeply into his mouth as his tongue twirled over the sensitive tip. It was heaven. It was magic. A raw, hungry, wild sort of magic.
Her hands slid into his hair and her fingers curled around his skull, holding him to her.
But he was stronger and had no plan to stay where he was.
His lips continued a path down the center of her belly where she quivered deliciously inside. Then lower, where he flicked his tongue in teasing strokes of fire against the creamy skin of her inner thighs.
Alexandra held her breath. The muscles in her legs strained and tensed. Her body cried out for every bit of that more she had demanded. She pulled ineffectively at his shoulders, tried to shift beneath him and draw him back up to her, but he wasn’t having it.
With a low sound, he hooked his arms beneath her thighs, leveraging them over his shoulders. When he paused, Alexandra lifted her head to look down the length of her sprawled and naked body to where he hovered between her legs.
Holding her gaze, he dropped a soft kiss to the apex of her mound, just above the thatch of dark curls that shielded her wet, aching folds.
She shuddered in response and he smiled. A predatory flash of teeth.
“I can’t wait to be inside you, Alex. To feel your tight heat around me. But I want you pulsing when I enter your body. I want you languid and soft and swollen. Do you understand?”
She could only give a small, throaty groan in reply.
He lowered his head. At the first hot, luscious slide of his tongue, her head fell back and her hands fisted. The second tongue stroke stopped her breath and had her heels pressing into the mattress as she tried to lift herself to him.
He made a sound that could have been a chuckle or a moan, but she didn’t much care, because he chose that moment to cover her with his open mouth and suckle her sensitive flesh.
She bucked her hips, but he pressed his hand flat over her lower belly, keeping her still beneath the onslaught of his mouth. Reaching up with his other hand, he covered her breast, kneading her softness before pinching her peaked and swollen nipple.
The sensations were unbelievable.
She felt entirely at his mercy. Her body, his to command and devour as he wished. Her breath, his to steal. Her blood, his to inflame.
He was relentless in his determination to bring every available sensation into play. Pleasure rippled along her nerves with every flick of his tongue and nip of his lips. Even the harsh scrape of his teeth sent shock waves of delight singing through her. He wanted something from her, and he was not going to let up until he got it.
Alexandra was helpless to fight the building of tension inside her. What started as a lovely little tingle in her core soon spread out into long spears of sensation that lifted her higher and higher. Her body became tense, and her movements were awkward. Her breath was short and shallow.
The release was so near she could practically taste it, like a sharp, metallic tang on her tongue.
She was suspended between the desire to claim that release and to avoid it, knowing that it would bring an end to the sweet fire flickering through every inch of her body.
As though he was aware of her resistance, he finally added one last, inescapable method of torment.
With his mouth sealed over the throbbing bud between her thighs, he eased his finger into her body. The glide of his touch along her inner flesh was the trigger that released the dam she’d been bracing within herself. Bright, consuming pleasure washed through her in a swift and sudden wave that seized her breath and left her trembling in its wake.
She barely had time to suck in a shaky breath before he was over her again, his mouth claiming hers as his hard length pressed hot and urgent against her entrance. On instinct, she bent her knees, drawing him into her. He moaned thickly into her mouth and pressed forward. Her pleasure still pulsed deep inside as her body softened and stretched around him. She held her breath and clung to him. Trusting him implicitly.
He initiated a slow pattern of thrust and retreat, each gliding advance reaching farther, easing the way to full possession, until finally he claimed her in one demanding thrust. The aching sensation mingled with the impossible beauty of being filled and stretched as he partially withdrew, then pushed forward again. The subtle pain became just another layer of her pleasure as she exploded in another climax. This release, however, came from deep inside and seemed to be made up of all that she was.