He straightened up and met her gaze. Their eyes were level, him kneeling in front of her while she sat on the edge of the couch. Her pale gray eyes darkened like thunderheads over the ocean as he cupped his hand between her thighs. “I need you naked, Taige. Right now.” He leaned forward and kissed her through her jeans. “If you’re going to pull back, now is a good time.”
He braced himself for just that. But instead, she lifted shaky hands and freed the button on her jeans. “You know I’ve never been able to resist you,” she said in a husky voice. Her lids drooped low over her eyes as she hooked her hands in her jeans, but before she could push them down, he covered her hands with his, easing her jeans down himself.
She was still wearing her underwear, and he cupped her butt in his hands. Under his palms, her skin was warm—and bare. Cullen swore hotly as he traced the line of the thong that she wore. The soft black cotton clung to her hips, rode between the cheeks of her ass. Lowering his mouth, he kissed her through the cotton and hissed as he found the material already wet.
Sliding a look up at her, he said in a voice gone rough with need, “Lie down.” Taige did, but she was too far away. Grasping her ass, he pulled her hips to the edge of the couch, guiding her knees over his shoulders. Cullen tugged the thong aside as he blew a soft puff of air against her. Tight black curls shielded her sex from him. Already starved for her, he pressed his lips against her and used his tongue to open her folds. Slick, hot, and wet, and as he used his mouth on her, she got hotter and wetter, so hot she seemed to singe him and as wet as a spring storm.
Circling the entrance to her body, he held her steady as he pushed his tongue inside her. Taige screamed and bucked, her hands clutching his head and holding him tight against her. She rocked upward as he shafted her with tongue and fingers, as he suckled on her clit, as he pushed her closer and closer. He felt the warning spasm of her body, felt the powerful climax coming on her even before it hit her, and as it broke over her, he continued to lick and kiss.
His hair tumbled into his eyes as he levered his body up over hers. Lifting her lids, Taige stared at him, her body still shuddering from orgasm. He shifted her body around so that she lay full-length on the couch and then, before she had even caught her breath, he knelt between her thighs, covered her body with his, and pressed his cock against her. “Look at me,” he demanded. Through her lashes, she did, staring at him, hardly able to believe this was happening.
It wasn’t a dream, wasn’t a memory. It was real; he was real, his body hot and heavy, one big hand wrapped around the base of his cock as he pressed close, and then their gazes locked, and he pushed inside. Taige screamed. He was thick, so hard it seemed to bruise her, and he was relentless, forging deeper and deeper until he was sheathed inside her to the hilt.
She groaned and thrashed under him, working to accommodate him. Twelve years was a damn long time, and she felt as though everything in the world had ceased to exist, everything but the couch they lay on, the man above her, and the thick length of his cock throbbing inside her. Unable to breathe, she worked her hands between them and shoved against his shoulders. Her hips wriggled and Cullen swore heatedly. “Damn it, be still.”
Looping his arms under her shoulders, he caught her head between his hands, holding her still as he kissed her. With his hips, he pressed down to still her frantic movements. Taige whimpered and pressed backward into the couch as much as she could.
“You’re tight,” he muttered against her mouth. He didn’t try to kiss her, just rubbed his lips back and forth over hers, roaming upward to kiss away the salty tears streaming from her eyes. So tight, she wrapped around him in a snug, silky embrace, wet, soft, and the most sinfully sweet pleasure he’d had—since the last time he’d had her.
Silky sweet—and he was hurting her. He could see it in her eyes. Even though she was still as hot as fire beneath him, and even though he could feel the power of her need, he was hurting her. Damn it, how could he not? She was virgin tight, and once he’d pushed the first inch inside her, he hadn’t been able to stop until she had taken all of him.
It damn near killed him, but Cullen didn’t follow the needs of his body and take, take, take, taking her until they were both too breathless and tired to move. Slanting his mouth over hers, he braced his elbows on the thick leather cushion on either side of her head, taking some of his weight off Taige.
He eased his hips back, withdrawing until only the head of his cock was wrapped in her warmth and then, slowly, surged forward. When he felt her tighten around him, he stopped, withdrew, working his way inside her, and slowly, she relaxed around him. Her arms slid up over his shoulders, and her mouth sought out his. When her nails started to bite into his shoulders, he started to move faster.
Taige’s body bowed up to meet his. Their breathing came in short, ragged pants, and neither of them could see anything for the other. Cullen stroked a hand down her thigh and guided her knee up over his hip, then cupped the curve of her ass in his hand, and held her tight against him. He felt her body clench around his.
Deliberately, he changed rhythm. Taige slid her hands down his back and clutched at his hips, squirming against him. “Damn it, Cullen . . .”
He reached behind him, caught her hands, and forced her wrists down beside her head. “After twelve years of dreaming of this, this is going to last longer than a few minutes.” Not much longer, he knew, but longer. And later, he’d do it again, take her as many times in the few hours as he could. Bind her to him again. Remind her of how good they’d been together before he’d screwed it up.
Settling into a shallow, teasing pace, he nuzzled her neck and licked away a bead of sweat from her throat. Her skin glowed, and under his hands it had gone damp. Her body arched and strained against his, and the snug, wet clasp of her pussy around his cock seemed to clutch at him as though she could keep him from pulling away.
Cullen circled his hips against hers and stared at her face, watching her. Too damn beautiful. She moaned, a soft, sexy little sound that throbbed through his system like the beat of a drum. Lashes fluttered low, hiding her eyes. Dipping his head, he bit her lower lip and murmured, “Open your eyes, Taige. Look at me.”
Slowly, the fan of her lashes lifted, and she stared at him with a blind, foggy gaze. “Tell me that you love me,” he rasped.
“Cullen . . .”
He slanted his mouth across hers, kissing her deep and hard. Then he lifted up, tossing sweaty hair back out of his face. “Tell me you love me,” he growled against her lips.
She shifted under him, tugging on her wrists and squirming. “Let go of my hands.”
Cullen didn’t want to. He didn’t want to do anything but demand an answer from her, but he’d already done that twice, with no response. Slowly, he loosened his grip on her wrists. If he could have pulled away then, he might have. His heart was like ashes inside his chest, and he wanted to pull back, hard and fast. Instead, he hunkered down low over her, burying his face in her neck and cursing the need that wouldn’t let him pull away.
A strong, slender palm stroked up his back. The other hand still lay over her head, and she sought out his, entwining their fingers. Her free hand curled over the back of his neck, and then her head turned, her lips brushing against his cheek. “I love you, Cullen. Did you actually think I could stop?”
Any control he might have had left died in that second. Turning his head, he sought out her mouth. Hooking his arm around the back of her neck, he whispered against her lips, “You’re mine, Taige. Mine.” Then he pushed his tongue into her mouth and kissed her until all rational thought faded away.
He moved higher on her body so that each deep, hard stroke had him rubbing against her clit. Canting her hips upward, he changed the angle of his thrusts so he could hit the buried nerve bed inside her pussy. She lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July, screaming in his mouth, her nails raking down his shoulders, and her back arching. As she came, Taige bucked under him, hard, convulsive little jerks. Cullen banded his
arm around her waist and held tight, riding her through it, chasing his own orgasm with blind fury.
It erupted from him, and he spilled himself into the wet, receptive depths of her body. Her sheath continued to spasm and clench around his cock, milking him dry. It was as though she was pulling fire from inside his body, a pleasure that was damn near painful in its intensity.
When it ended, he collapsed against her, burying his face between her breasts and sucking in badly needed air.
He couldn’t think, could hardly focus on anything but the little aftershocks rolling through his system. The one coherent thought he was aware of: I’m never letting you go now, Taige.
MINUTES passed—or maybe hours, and Taige continued to lie on her back, staring at the ceiling. She’d gone from self-disgust to acceptance to anger and all the way back again. Right now, she was right smack in the middle of acceptance. Eventually, she’d be pissed off again. At him. At herself. At everything. But right now, she was content to stroke a hand up and down Cullen’s back and listen to him breathe.
Her thighs ached, and deep inside, she felt raw and a little sore. Twelve years was a damn long time, she mused again. And Cullen hadn’t been gentle with her. She hadn’t wanted him to be. That greedy desperation eased the ache in her heart, even though it left her body stiff.
I’m never letting you go now, Taige. Catching complete thoughts like that outside of a direct connection wasn’t normal for her. It was probably just the physical contact, the very close physical contact that had let her subconscious establish a strong enough connection for her to pick up on that one, clear thought. Just the one, nothing before and nothing since. She was aware of his fatigue, and she’d felt a distant echo from him as they made love. Sex, Taige. Just sex, she corrected herself. She’d felt the echo of his pleasure and the burn of need, but she wasn’t convinced of anything other than that he wanted her.
A lot.
At least that was what she tried to tell herself. But those few words, I’m never letting you go now, Taige, had managed to undermine all the instincts that demanded she protect herself. Inside, she was in turmoil, practically at war with herself. Half of her demanded that she stop being so damn cynical and just see what happened with Cullen. The other half came back with, Tried that route before, and he dumped me on my sorry ass and stomped all over my heart, and that part wasn’t at all interested in turning said broken, trampled heart back over to him.
His breathing changed. It brushed over her flesh and made her shiver. Stirring, he lifted his head and stared at her out of bleary eyes. “Crushing you,” he muttered, his voice thick.
Taige smiled and slid her fingers through his tousled hair. “I’m fine.”
“Hmmmm.” Lowering his face, he trailed his tongue over her belly in an absent, erotic little pattern. “You’re not fine. You’re perfect. Delicious.” Pushing up on his elbow, he rolled his weight to the side, pressing up against the back of the couch. “You’re wet with me. I didn’t use a rubber.” His lashes drooped over his eyes, and he said, “Seems to be a bad habit with us.”
Taige shrugged and tried to dismiss what was clamoring for attention in her heart. Wouldn’t matter even if she did acknowledge it. Dreaming and yearning to have a baby of her own, somebody to love and cuddle and protect, was pointless, because it wasn’t going to happen.
“You’re too quiet,” Cullen said. His voice didn’t really change, but she heard something there nonetheless.
Looking up, she met his eyes. He watched her with a soft, loving gaze that made her want to scream. Stiffening, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Don’t worry about it,” she said brusquely.
Heat shimmered through her, and she hissed when he pushed his finger inside her, stroking in and out of her pussy. “I’m not really worried,” he whispered, dipping his head to flick his tongue against her clit. “No matter what happened, I wouldn’t be worried.”
Squeezing her thighs together, she tried to pull back from his caressing hand. “Nothing will happen.” Her throat was closing up on her; she could feel it. Eyes blurry with tears, she reached down and grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him away. “Let me go.”
“Don’t look so scared, Taige.” He nuzzled her belly and spoke in a soft, cajoling voice. “You still love me. I still love you. If something happens, we’ll deal with it. God knows, I’d love to see you pregnant with my baby.”
Her laugh was bitter, so harsh it hurt her ears just to hear it. “It won’t ever happen, sugar. I can’t get pregnant.” This time, when she jerked away from him, he was surprised enough that she managed to pull free. She ended up on her ass by the couch, and too upset to even be embarrassed, all Taige did was shove to her feet and walk blindly in the direction of her room.
She didn’t even make it to the doorway when he stopped her, grabbing hold of her arm and trying to turn her around to look at him. When that didn’t work, he planted his body in front of her and caught her face between his hands. “What?” he asked hoarsely.
Blinking back the tears, Taige said, “Just let go of me, Cullen.”
“Not until you explain that.”
This was going to choke her. She knew it. She’d force the words out, and they’d lodge in her throat and choke her. “I got pregnant that day I came to see you when your mom died. I didn’t know about it.” Forcing the words out was about as easy as it would have been to regurgitate broken glass, and she figured it was every bit as painful. “I lost weight, was sick a lot, but figured I was just depressed. Then I collapsed at school. I was taken to the ER, and they found a tubal pregnancy, but it was too late. The tube had ruptured.” Mechanically, she recited the details, unaware that the tears had finally won the battle, and they fell unchecked down her cheeks.
Cullen lifted a hand to touch her, and she flinched away. “Don’t,” she said harshly.
“Have to,” he said, pulling her against him.
His hand rubbed in soothing circles over her bare back, but she held herself stiff in his arms, unable to relax, hardly able to breathe. He was quiet for a long while, and then, finally, he blew out a sigh. His arms tightened around her, and he murmured, “I’m sorry, Taige.”
She didn’t know what to say. Hell, what was there to say?
“Can you tell me about it?”
Woodenly, she said, “There’s not much to tell. The tube ruptured. The baby never had a chance.”
“And you? How were you?”
Alone. But she kept that to herself. “I’m still around, aren’t I?” There was really no point in explaining that she’d nearly died. What good would that do either of them?
He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “You’re not going to talk about it yet, are you?”
Taige averted her eyes. “There really isn’t that much to talk about, Cullen.”
“Yeah, there is.” He shifted, moving around so that he stood behind her, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist. The other hand he pressed to her belly. “I’m no doctor, but I remember anatomy well enough. There are two tubes; only one is gone.”
Reaching down, she caught his hand. “Yes. One is gone.” She guided his hand lower and laid it down flat against the scar low on her belly. That bullet had ripped through her abdomen, damaging the other ovary beyond repair. “On the other side, there’s no ovary, Cullen. A bullet saw to that. So it looks like you lucked out all around. You don’t need to worry about me getting knocked up, even if we spend the next ten years fucking like rabbits.”
Then she jerked away from him and stormed down the hallway.
LOOKS like you lucked out all around.
Cullen sat on the beach, feeling like he’d been wrung dry.
Going from an emotional high to an all-time low in the matter of minutes was hell. He thought that maybe he could have done the Iron Man triathlon and still not feel this worked over.
Taige had been pregnant. Nineteen years old, alone, and pregnant. He didn’t know jack shit about tubal pregnancies, but somet
hing about the way her face had looked when she talked about it made his gut knot inside. Then there were the tears that had rolled down her cheeks and the way she pressed a hand protectively to her belly as she murmured, The baby never had a chance. She’d wanted the baby. He knew that as well as he knew his own name.
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