by J. S. Scott
I love you.
Her whispered confession in the Emergency Room haunted him every fucking minute of every day. Had she meant it? Had she even been talking to him? She had been confused, disoriented, barely aware of her surroundings. There was no evidence that she even remembered speaking those words, so how did he know who she meant them for? Maybe it was just mindless babble, brought on by her injuries. He didn’t even know if he wanted those words to be intended for him.
Oh, hell yeah, I do.
Groaning softly, he shoved another pillow under his head, trying to ignore his swollen cock as it pulsated beneath the sheets, creating a large tent underneath the coverings. Christ, could he ever think about Kara without his balls turning blue?
Actually, yeah, he knew he could. Scared shitless after the attack, his cock hadn’t been his primary concern. Seeing her appear so fragile, pale, and helpless in a hospital bed had nearly destroyed him, making him ache in other areas above his waist. For several days, his driving need to protect her, to keep her safe, had been his primary motivation.
His lips turned up in a small smile as he remembered her outrage over the fact that he had contacted the college, explaining the situation and getting her absence for the rest of the week approved. He had thought he was being helpful, smoothing things over so she had time to recover. His crazy woman had actually thought she was going to return to classes the day after she was discharged from the hospital, and she had raked him over the coals for interfering in her life. She had gotten right up in his face and ripped him a new asshole. Kara had no problem challenging him, and he found her intelligent mind provocative. Maybe-just maybe-part of him enjoyed it. Had a woman ever opposed him, questioned him, called him out for a behavior she didn’t like? The women in his life used him, let him use their bodies. None of them had ever cared enough to get in his face about anything.
She’s getting to me. Bad.
He could feel his internal walls beginning to crumble and it wasn’t a comfortable sensation.
Fuck. Pay. Move on.
It was the way he had interacted with women his entire adult life, but Kara was changing all that, tempting him to trust her. And fuck, he was tempted. It might be excruciatingly painful when her eyes bored into him as though she were peering into his soul, but knowing that she cared enough to do it? That was intoxicating, bewitching.
She didn’t give a shit about his scars, his money, or elevated social status.
And she thinks I’m hot enough to melt glaciers in Antarctica.
Sam had told him about his conversation with Kara, how she had declared Simon the hottest Hudson. He and his brother had never been competitive. They had always been too busy working together to survive and then to thrive. Although they liked to verbally spar, Simon loved his brother. Fiercely. Yeah, Sam was fucked-up when it came to women, but he could hardly chastise his brother for that when he was just as bad. Probably worse. However, he had gotten perverse satisfaction from knowing that Kara had verbally slapped Sam down during her conversation with him at the fast-food place before the attack.
I love you.
Gritting his teeth, he rolled to his side, punching his pillow and trying to get comfortable. He had to forget, get a grip on his emotions, stop wishing for more than her presence. He had the comfort of knowing she was safe. Wasn’t that enough? At least he wasn’t going insane from not knowing where she was, if she was okay.
A piercing, terrified female howl made Simon shoot straight up in bed, his muscles clenched, his heart racing.
Kara!
Panic held him in its grip for a few seconds as the screams grew louder, more intense.
His feet hit the floor, protective instinct making adrenaline pump through his body as he raced down the dark hallway to her room. Flipping on the light without even breaking his stride, he halted abruptly at the side of her bed.
Her arms were wrapped protectively around herself, tears flowing like a river down her sweet face. Hair tangled, head down, she was whimpering and gasping for breath.
“Sweetheart, what happened?” He sat next to her on the bed. Her sheets were snarled and twisted, as though she had been fighting World War III on her mattress.
“Dream,” she whispered, as though still trying to convince herself. “Just a dream.”
She was shivering violently. He scooped her up and placed her in his lap, pulling her unresisting body into his, trying to warm her in his embrace. Heart racing, he enfolded her, pulling her head into his neck.
“What were you dreaming about?” He stroked her silky hair, letting it slide over his fingertips, as he took a deep breath, trying to calm his hammering heart.
“The attack. It was so real,” she murmured, shuddering against him.
“It’s over. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe.” Right here. With me.
Sliding her off his lap, he went to stand, only to have her arms tighten around his neck, holding on for dear life.
“No! Please! Don’t go yet.” Her vulnerable cry stabbed him straight in the gut.
She needs me.
And he was going to be there for her, insecurities be damned. “It’s okay. I’m not leaving you alone.” I’m never leaving you alone.
He didn’t bother trying to pry her fingers apart. Shifting his body, he lifted her into his arms and came to his feet, trying not to notice that she was scantily clad in a silk, pink, lacy garment that barely covered her ass. He suppressed a groan as he adjusted her weight against him, the lace abrading his chest as the silk caressed his skin. He strode out of the room, making his way down the hallway and into his bedroom, with the most precious thing in the world to him held safely in his arms.
Simon lowered her into his massive bed, coming down with her because she still hadn’t loosened her death grip around his neck. Her panic abated slowly and Kara relaxed her arms, allowing him to pull the covers and a quilt on top them before he slid in behind her, spooning her body against his, and wrapping his warm, muscular arms around her body protectively. Kara sighed, sinking into his warmth, as she relaxed her head back to rest against his shoulder, relishing the security of his huge, masculine body.
“Okay?” he questioned softly, his breath ruffling her hair.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll go back to my own bed in a minute.” She didn’t want to go back. She wanted to stay right where she was, warm and safe in his arms. But she respected the fact that he liked his space when he slept.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he rumbled against her hair.
“But you won’t sleep,” she protested, feeling suddenly selfish for wishing she could stay.
“I won’t get a fucking minute of sleep unless you’re here. I haven’t slept worth a shit for two weeks.” His arms tightened around her waist.
Her body plastered against his, she could feel a hard protrusion against her ass. “You’re naked.”
“Yeah. I sleep in the raw, sweetheart. Get used to it,” he murmured, his voice husky. “You want to tell me about the nightmare?”
Actually, what she wanted was to forget. But she turned around in the circle of his arms, needing desperately to wrap herself around his warm masculine body. She wasn’t a tiny, delicate female, but as she buried her face against his bulky, solid chest, she felt like one. “It was just a dream about what happened. Only in the dream, they got me into the car. They were going to rape me before they shot me in the head. I fought, but they were ripping at my clothes. They were so much stronger. All I could think about was that I wanted to die before they could violate me, but the one who got away was on top of me, the other holding the gun to my head.” She shook her head, trying not to get emotional. It was only a dream. It hadn’t really happened. “But it was so real. I could smell their body odor, see those evil eyes. I woke up just as they...” Her voice trailed off in a shaken whisper.
Simon rocked her,
running a hand over her back as though he were comforting a small child. “Shhh...it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. They can’t get to you anymore.”
Her body quaking from the nightmare, all she wanted was to wipe away the bad memories, to bury herself in sensation, to indulge herself in the incredible body of the man comforting her. The one man who could make her forget the last few days, wipe it away with his sensual touch. “Make love to me. Make me forget,” she whispered, her voice seductive and tremulous.
She felt his body tense as she pushed him gently, rolling him on his back. Her hands roamed over his chest, savoring the hard, sinewy muscles and taut, hot skin. Unhurried, she traced each muscle from his shoulders to his abdomen, caressing the enticing swirl of hair that led from his navel to his groin.
“Shit! We can’t do this!” Simon groaned, catching her wandering hands in his strong grip. “There’s no better feeling than having your hands all over me, but you just got out of the hospital.”
“Several days ago. And I’m not hurt. I feel fine. I have a little cut on my forehead. There’s only one place where I really ache.” She pushed his unresisting hand to the heat between her thighs, parting her legs. Maybe she was coming on too strong, begging too much, but she didn’t care. She needed Simon’s possession, needed him inside her. “Please.” Her voice was pleading, desperate. Pulling her hand from his grasp, she slid her hand down, lower, wrapping it around his engorged cock.
“No! Christ! I’ll come if you touch me.” His voice was strangled as he captured her hand, holding it against his chest. The hand between her thighs breached the elastic of her tiny panties, his fingers slipping easily between her saturated folds. “You’re wet. So fucking hot.”
“Because I need you.” She moaned as his large, blunt fingers explored her, moving sensually over her clit and the tender flesh surrounding it. Mindless desire devoured her body whole. Not thinking, only able to react to the relentless need that was pounding at her, she yanked the soaked panties down her legs, kicking them into the sheets, and clambered on top of him, straddling him. Placing a hand on each side of his head, she kissed him.
One minute she was on top of him, her lips covering his, ready to lose herself in the power of his touch, and the next moment...she was flat on her back. He had flipped her, tearing his mouth from hers.
“No. I can’t. I fucking can’t.” His voice was tortured, his torso imprisoning her, his hands gripping each one of her wrists at the side of her head.
His breathing was labored, ragged. She could hear harsh sounds coming from his throat as he attempted to get air in and out of his lungs.
Shaking her head, starting to emerge from her erotic fog, she looked up at the massive figure looming over, a man in obvious torment.
Shit. What did I do? Did I push too hard?
The moon provided some muted light in the room, but it still wasn’t enough illumination to see his eyes...but then, she didn’t have to. The sound of his voice, his breathing, his trembling body, his tight hold on her wrists told her that she had sent him plummeting into his own personal nightmare.
“Simon. It’s me. Kara.” She pulled on her wrists, but she couldn’t free them. “Talk to me.”
“I know who you are. I just can’t fucking do it.” Chest heaving, he stayed locked in place.
“Kiss me.”
Trapped under his body, under his dominance, she still wasn’t sure that she could assuage his fear. He wasn’t hurting her, but she wanted to bring him back to the here and now. Somehow, she had inadvertently hurt him, sent him into a panic.
Her heart was racing and it seemed like forever until he finally lowered his head slowly, fitting his mouth over hers. He kissed her like a man who had come unglued. His tongue speared into her mouth, conquering, lashing, over and over.
His wild, dominant embrace released a primal instinct inside her, as if her body was automatically responding to her mate. She moved her tongue against his, surrendering herself to him, letting him be her master.
“Kara.” He breathed her name as he released her mouth, burying his head in the side of her neck.
“Yes. Just you and me, Simon. Just us.”
“Need to fuck you.” The statement was muffled, his rumbling voice vibrating against her neck.
“Do it. Just like this.” Something about her being on top, being in control had flipped his detonation switch. But his lust was still there. She could feel it, rock-hard and hungry, pushing against her thigh.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It felt so good, but I just couldn’t-”
“No. Don’t. It doesn’t matter. I just want you inside me.” She parted her legs, and pulled at her wrists. “Can you let go of me?”
Slowly, he loosened his powerful grip as he moved between her thighs. “Yeah. I think so,” he answered in a tone filled with trepidation.
Her heart stuttered as she pulled her wrists out of his now only slightly resisting hands and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I just want to hold you. You have control.”
“Around you, I doubt I’ll ever really have any control,” he muttered quietly, his voice filled with reluctant resignation.
“Make love to me, Simon.” Her voice was pleading, but she didn’t care. His momentary fear and vulnerability had crushed any self-preservation instincts left in her body. She needed to help set him free, to obliterate whatever was in his past that held him prisoner. He was too good a man, too kind a person to remain trapped, unable to move forward.
Not to mention the fact that I love him and want him so desperately that it’s painful.
It was past time to stop being in denial, thinking that she could keep Simon at an emotional distance. She’d been a coward, so afraid of destroying herself that she had selfishly tried to deny the totally amazing connection that she had with him. And it was a two-way connection. She wasn’t the only one struggling with it, uncertain how to deal with it. For Christ’s sake...he had followed her around, protected her, for over a year. He had literally plucked her off the streets, giving her everything a woman could ever dream about, and not just materially. He comforted her, stayed by her side when she was sick. He listened to her as though her concerns, her thoughts, her dreams, were important to him. Obviously, he felt something! The question was, could it be the same fascinating, beguiling, impossible-to-resist coupling that she felt for him? In her case, that incredibly mystical chemistry had turned into a gut-wrenching love, evolving so fast that it had had taken her breath away...along with her common sense.
“Touch me, sweetheart. Please.” His voice was ragged and edgy, full of desire and longing, more of a desperate command than a request.
Her hands moved slowly, stroking his wide, strong shoulders, touching every inch of solid muscle, savoring the strength radiating from his powerful body. She traced up his spine, her hands landing on the nape of his neck. Pulling his head down, her lips traced his collarbone lightly as she speared her fingers into his hair. She moaned softly as her mouth moved over the pulse at his neck, the masculine scent of him flooding her body with carnal heat. She breathed deep, letting his fragrance consume her, his galloping pulse beneath her lips letting her know that he was as swamped in erotic need as she was.
He groaned, his massive body starting to move, his hard member finding a warm resting place between her thighs. His velvety cock slid along her tender folds, saturating itself with wet heat.
Every nerve in her body caught fire, and she opened her legs wider, silently begging him to satiate her, to satisfy the violent need that was clawing at her relentlessly.
Suddenly, he reared up, making her whimper as he deprived her of his heat. Reaching for the hem of her short nightie, he pulled it over her head, tossing it onto the floor beside the bed. “Nothing between us,” he growled as he lowered himself over her again.
She hissed as his fiery-hot body met hers from breast to groin, s
avoring the sensation of being skin-to-skin.
“Mine. You’re mine. Say it.” The demand exploded from him as though he couldn’t help himself.
Dominant Simon had returned with a vengeance, and Kara shuddered. He did love control, and that had nothing to do with his past. That was simply, utterly, completely...Simon.
His hand snaked between their bodies, positioning the blunt, silky head of his cock against her tight opening, starting to enter her oh-so-slowly.
“Say it.” His tone grew more demanding, more possessive.
Oh God, how she relished his dominance, his strength. “I’m yours. I need you.”
He rewarded her by filling her with one smooth stroke, burying his cock completely to the root. The carnality of the action nearly made her climax.
“Fuck! You feel so good.” He pulled out slightly and buried himself again, rolling his hips, making her take every inch of him. “I’m not sure I know how to make love. I only know how to fuck.”
She clutched his shoulders, trying to find her balance, her sanity. “I’m not sure I do either. I guess we’ll learn together,” she told him breathlessly.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, needing to get closer. A low, choked, reverberating sound came from his throat as he pulled back and sank into her again. And again.
His head swooped down, capturing her distressed whimper, his mouth seeking, his tongue conquering. Every touch of his tongue, every thrust of his cock was a branding, a claiming. And she could do little else but surrender.
Tearing his mouth from hers so they could both take a much-needed breath, his hips continued to piston into her, as he rasped, “Mine!”
His teeth nipped at her neck, making her shudder with primal desire. Hips lifting, meeting every furious pump of his hips, Kara moaned as her fingers left his hair, sliding lower, clenching at his back. Her short fingernails dug into his flesh as he changed angles, never slowing his heated, frantic pace.