Dream: Dream Surrender

by Mary Wine

  Rourke sighed deeply. He dropped another kiss onto her neck before he began to rub her nub with increasing speed. Pleasure spiked into her belly as Loren found her body poised on the edge of release. Rourke didn’t grant her the pressure or speed she needed. Instead she writhed on the border of pain as her body begged for release.

  “Rourke!”

  “Rourke, what?”

  His finger never stopped. That thick erection pulsed against the cheeks of her bottom making the hunger acute.

  “Please.” She whispered the word, passion moved along her bloodstream like a drug, pulling her further into euphoria.

  Rourke used his thigh to open hers. Her bottom lifted as he gently began to rub her pleasure nub again. Her passage was thick with moisture. The walls clutched at his cock as he pushed deep inside her. He listened to his own harsh cry as he pulled back and thrust forward again.

  Opening his eyes, Rourke stared at the box of condoms sitting on the bedside table. The animal inside him growled as he thrust into her body again. He refused to tolerate even the thinnest of barriers. He didn’t want to don a condom…ever. Rourke wanted to bury his body in hers over and over until she milked him dry.

  He held her absolutely still. Loren simply clung to the bedding as his body thrust and withdrew. His finger pressed down onto her nub as his body impaled hers. It was harsh and basic, but completely satisfying with the darkest part of the night surrounding them.

  Her cry let Rourke succumb to his most basic needs. He lifted her hips and pounded into her body as she cried out in rapture. Her body brutally gripped his member as he shoved it deeply into her. A savage growl rattled from his throat as he pumped his seed as deep into her body as he could.

  Sleep immediately tried to reclaim her. Loren felt it pulling her down into its relaxation as Rourke pressed her onto her back. His mouth captured hers in a deep kiss that demanded a response. Her body yielded to his as she clung to the shoulders that loomed over her.

  “Leave my bed, Loren, and I will follow you. Don’t test me, honey, because I don’t give a damn who watches me take you.” She shivered slightly and Rourke brushed gentle fingers along her cheek. “My gun is hot—don’t reach for it unless I can’t do it myself.”

  She shivered again as Rourke turned her head onto his chest. He sealed her body along his as she tried to regain her thoughts. He pushed into her mind and firmly refused to let her retreat into her private personality.

  Rourke cursed softly as her breathing deepened into slumber. He was hard again as his brother’s words floated through his memory.

  Intense? Hell. One word couldn’t possibly describe it.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Tobias, get on your feet and roll out for morning exercise. Shorts, tee-shirt and your running shoes. Be out front in ten.”

  Rourke was down the hall, in front of Toby’s room, but Loren jerked out of her sleep. She was bundled in the bedding like a toddler. She pushed at the comforter but Rourke’s face leaned over her a second later.

  “Good morning, honey.” His hands landed on the comforter. The fabric drew tight, efficiently trapping Loren in the bed. Rourke’s eyes inspected her with sharp motions before a smug grin appeared on his face.

  His mouth landed on top of hers. His lips were demanding as Loren squirmed against the bedding again. His tongue traced the seam of her closed lips before one hand released the comforter and captured her chin. Rourke used his thumb to pull her jaw open for a deeper kiss. A small groan of defeat escaped her throat as her lips began to respond to the kiss.

  “Go back to sleep. You’re not up to running today.”

  “Like hell, I’m not!” Her temper ignited as Rourke simply looked at her with mild amusement. He sat back as Loren aimed a brutal shove at the bedding. “I made it through the Tower, buddy, despite every chauvinist pig that said a woman couldn’t keep up.”

  Loren launched her body up out of the bed and froze as her lower body shrieked with pain. Her teeth slammed together to contain her cry.

  Rourke lifted her chin with one of his huge hands. He had his face carefully controlled in an expressionless mask. But his eyes were alight with delight. Loren raised her fist as her temper exploded.

  He caught the blow and smirked at her. Rourke sent her a playful wink before he stood up. His hands adjusted his waistband before he reached for something behind him on the dresser. The pistol came back into view before it was tucked into the back of his pants.

  “If you want to be useful, you can make breakfast. I’ve got a heck of an appetite this morning.”

  Loren almost screamed. She was certain her eyes were going to pop out of her head. Instead she froze as heard Toby came loping into the hallway. Her temper turned into embarrassment as she frantically dove back into the bedding to cover her nude body. Rourke sent the door shut before her son got a single step into the hallway.

  Loren launched a pillow at the closed door. Her missile left a great deal to be desired. It hit the wood panel with a slight woof before slipping to the floor. Very unsatisfying.

  A groan of frustration echoed around the room. Loren punched the bedding a few times before she forced her body to stand up. A small cramp snaked through her abdomen as she walked toward the bathroom. Loren hissed in response.

  She had never been sore after sex! Not even on her wedding night. Heat flooded her cheeks as she headed for a shower. What she and Rourke engaged in just wasn’t the same kind of sex that she’d had with her late husband.

  Rourke surrounded her. He was gleefully ripping down each and every defense she’d ever erected to prevent her body from indulging in its sexual nature.

  Loren stuck her head under the shower and sighed. Confusion was her real problem. She was well past the age of needing permission to have a lover. Maybe if it was only the physical act she could be content. Instead emotions were blossoming up inside her with every move Rourke made.

  The man was moving right into her life. Actually, he was maneuvering her into his. His civilized exterior camouflaged a core of pure aggression. Rourke Campbell would get what he wanted. He wasn’t a man who understood defeat.

  That thought scared her right down to her toes. Loren pulled the sheets free from the bed before heading toward the washing machine. The only thing she knew for certain was Rourke wasn’t a normal man. Her eyes caught the morning sunlight as it illumined the sentry on duty. Memory reminded her that Rourke even took his pistol to bed with him. Hot. Somehow, she’d managed to not truly think about his sharper edges. But the man slept with a loaded gun and his home was surrounded by armed sentries. It should have bothered her, maybe even frightened her. Loren shook her head. Rourke inspired a whole range of feelings in her but fear wasn’t one of them. She was absolutely convinced that he would never physically harm her.

  She couldn’t seem to control her body. Rourke conquered it with steady determination and it was entirely possible her heart would be his final conquest.

  The certainty of their coming separation made that a fate worse than death.

  “Are you actually cooking for my brother?”

  Clay Campbell was leaning against the countertop and watching her with dark eyes. The man looked like he’d been there for hours. His body was complexly relaxed as he stared at her. Only Loren knew he must have appeared within the last two minutes.

  Being prey to Rourke’s ability to toy with her was one thing. His family was another. Loren sent her dishtowel zipping toward Clay. She held onto the far end of it. He immediately raised a hand to deflect her attack. A flick of her wrist jerked the towel back and the wet end snapped with a loud pop on his open palm.

  Clay snarled at her. Loren tossed her head and turned to completely face him.

  “You must have mistaken me for some pushover female who would be impressed with your solider of fortune, wild man image.”

  “I scare most of them.” He raised a single finger at her. “To death.”

  Loren simply lifted her hands into the air. She kn
ew Clay’s type—proud of their harsh edges. They went to great lengths to appear uncivilized.

  “But not you?” A dry laugh came from the man as Loren turned her back on him and gave breakfast a stir.

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Why don’t you go polish your gun and chew on a few bullets?”

  He laughed and moved ‘til he was leaning on the counter next to her. Loren rolled her eyes as he attempted to stare her down.

  “Don’t tell me you’re dropping in for a little family meal time?”

  He grunted before crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes shifted as she looked at the pan she was cooking in.

  “I prefer my meat fresh. Nothing tastes as good as a meal you caught with your own hands.”

  The man actually fingered the large knife strapped to his thigh. But the action wasn’t an attempt at intimidation. It was just a light fingering of the weapon’s handle. Loren wasn’t even sure if Clay noticed he did it. “Tell me something, Clay. If I act like I’m impressed, will you go away?”

  Loren watched him curl back his lips in response. She turned the heat off and walked over to check the oven. “I could make an attempt to simper or tremble or something else girlie.”

  “You look mighty domestic for all of your tough talk.”

  “It’s not tough talk. I just know your kind, and firefighters have to eat too.”

  “You have no idea what kind of man I am.”

  Loren turned and folded her own arms across her chest. “Yes I do. You’re the kind of man who would rather bleed to death than let a medic prevent it from happening. Your kind will jump out of a moving ambulance if you can and the consequences be damned. You’re the kind of man who would consider sitting through a live production of Annie as the worst torture imaginable.”

  Clay threw his head back and roared with amusement. His shoulders shook as the kitchen filled with the sound of pure male laughter. His eyes were sparkling with humor when he looked back at her. “I like you.”

  “Now I’m scared of you.”

  The man pegged her with a penetrating stare that saw far too much.

  “Actually, you’re not frightened of me in the least.”

  Clay sobered and Loren watched the laughter fade from his face. “Kind of a pity because I never poach.”

  Loren lifted her eyebrow in disbelief. Clay just didn’t strike her as the sort of man who worried all the much about boundaries. If he wanted something, he’d do his best to bring in his kill.

  “At least, not from one of my brothers.”

  “I’ll buy that.”

  “Good. That will make this a whole lot easier.”

  Clay’s voice dipped dangerously low. Loren raised her head to watch the way his eyes darkened into deepest forest green. She felt the first wave of contact hit her mind even with the distance between them. Pain slashed into her from the assault. Loren forced her feet to stay in place as Clay began closing that distance.

  The precision of his mind was mesmerizing. The pain burned deeper with each step as she found her mind being laid open for him to see, each and every detail of who she was, exposed.

  A solid wall suddenly blocked Clay out of her mind. Loren frantically drew in deep breaths as her vision became a swirl of colors. Her vision returned to show her Rourke’s back as he stood directly in front of her.

  “Get away from her, Clay.”

  Loren stepped back from Rourke. She’d never heard him sound so completely lethal before.

  “This affects every man on the mountain, Rourke, not just your unit. The fact that she’s your woman makes it necessary to make certain.”

  “The only thing you have right, Clay, is the fact that Loren belongs to me.” Rourke advanced on his brother as his body drew as taut as a bow. Rage made his movements sharp. “And I don’t share.”

  “You share this mountain.” Jared Campbell was as deadly serious as both his siblings. He appeared in the doorway as Rourke turned to keep both men in his sights.

  Having Rourke overwhelm her was one thing. Loren found herself unprepared to deal with him protecting her. It produced tender emotions that made her consider deeper feelings.

  Instead she faced off with his brothers. “So, are you guys saying that every man serving on your mountain believes in your psychic abilities completely?”

  Jared Campbell shifted his sharp eyes to inspect her face. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  Loren shrugged her shoulders as she caught Rourke and Clay watching her as well. “Just wondering if you are really interested in this mind thing for yourselves. What the three of you say isn’t worth much if your men don’t believe in the paranormal.”

  Rourke’s brothers grunted, but Loren wasn’t interested in their response. Her eyes were glued to Rourke as his eyes considered her. She felt the very distinct brush of his mind across hers but it wasn’t painful. Instead Loren simply relaxed as the sensation was familiar. Her memory was rich with remembered pain but this was Rourke and Loren knew that he wouldn’t hurt her.

  She didn’t resist. Rourke looked into light green eyes that allowed him complete access to her thoughts. He could have forced the link despite any resistance from her but Loren was yielding it. Trust. That word surfaced between them as Rourke slowly grinned.

  “I told you two, no one is going to probe Loren for anything.” Rourke turned to look at Jared. “Be a pal and take Clay for a walk. You remember how it is when you need a little privacy.”

  It was a completely public statement of ownership. Loren felt the heat bleed into her checks but her temper never showed up. Jared Campbell inspected her face before the man very deliberately grinned at her.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean, Rourke.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Clay glared at her over Rourke’s shoulders. It was highly evident from the man’s face that he wasn’t happy with the change in plans. “A woman is a woman, they all have the same parts. One or another, it doesn’t matter.”

  Loren laughed. All three men looked at her like she’d lost her mind. She leaned all the way back onto the counter to look at Clay. “Spoken like a true savage. Maybe you should apply to be an astronaut. That way you could go land on a primitive planet and make yourself at home.”

  “There’re plenty of women that like me right here on Earth. You just can’t see them through those rose-colored glasses.”

  “I like my rosy shades. In fact, I slip them on every time I get off duty and can leave the ugly side of reality behind me.” Loren decided to be finished with the entire thing. She pushed away from the counter and walked right around Rourke. Clay Campbell immediately abandoned his lazy stance as she faced off with him.

  “Bring on whatever you got or get out of my face.”

  Rourke’s fingers curled around her biceps and Loren took a moment to glare at him. His eyes clashed with hers before she very pointedly gave her attention back to Clay.

  The corner of Clay’s mouth lifted. His eyes bored into her skull, making her head ache, but Loren forced her body to stand in place. He didn’t push into her mind though. Instead he considered her blatant willingness to endure his mental probing.

  “Maybe I should reconsider my position on poaching.”

  Jared laughed from the doorway as Clay sent her a grin. Loren rolled her eyes as she propped her hands onto her hips. A rather wicked smile lifted her mouth as she looked back at Clay.

  “If fate has any sense of justice, you’ll fall in love with an Amish preacher’s daughter.”

  * * * * *

  “You need a nap.”

  Loren jumped. Her thighs hit the low table she was using as a desk in Rourke’s office. Her lightweight laptop computer went sliding across the smooth surface of the wood making her frantically grab for the thing before it went crashing onto the floor.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Actually, Mom, you look like death warmed over.” Toby looked up at her from his nest of computer cables and printouts.

  “Gee, thanks.” Toby tossed
her a smile before turning back to his work. Loren shook her head before she tried to replace her laptop in its rather precarious position.

  A large hand landed on the top of the unit and snapped it closed. The computer instantly shut itself down.

  Her chair went skidding back from a well-placed kick. Loren raised her head to have her wrist captured and yanked. Her body went tumbling forward. Rourke bent and caught her over his shoulder. He pushed himself up onto his powerful legs in half a second.

  “Put me down!”

  He did. Right in the center of his bed. Loren bounced on the thick mattress and flipped her body up to glare at Rourke. A wave of pain choose that moment to snake through her skull. She’d been fighting the headache all day. Clearly, bouncing wasn’t something that mixed with migraines very well.

  Two warm hands appeared on either side of her head. Rourke’s fingers gently tipped her face up as he leaned in to consider her eyes. He was on his haunches between her knees on the bed as he brought his face eye level with hers. His mind brushed against hers in the lightest of contacts. Another wave of pain attempted to split her brain in half.

  “Clay is too blunt.”

  “Meaning what?” Loren was way past caring what questions might be best left unasked. If Rourke was going to play around in her head, she had a right to know what kind of psychic he was. The consequences could go straight to hell. It was her head after all.

  Rourke rubbed her temples again as her green eyes aimed their question at him. The temptation to just answer her was thick. It would be so damn easy to share the part of himself that he’d never been able to expose to anyone outside his own family.

  Loren’s face was the same shade as new snow. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Pain had carved deep lines around her mouth as she stubbornly refused to fold under the strain. Her strength hit him right in the gut. A hot wave of lust actually swept through him as he considered how much strength there was wrapped up inside her body. It enhanced her appeal to him in a manner that civilization could not explain. All he wanted to do was roll her onto her back and mate with her ‘til her belly swelled up with his child.