Maverick

by Lora Leigh

  “I’ve said that word before,” she gasped as she felt his cock throbbing inside her.

  “Do you want to get naughtier, pretty Risa?” His hands slid from her thighs to her breasts. He cupped them, shaped them, tweaked her nipples, then rubbed the little pain away.

  “With you? I think I could be very naughty, Micah,” she breathed out roughly.

  He rewarded her. One hard thrust buried his erection halfway inside her. It stole her breath, had her head tipping back and her hips writhing as her legs lifted, knees bending to clasp his hard hips.

  “Ah, pretty Risa. Your sweet pussy is so tight, so hot around my cock.” His voice was darker, rougher, that hint of desert stronger.

  “Oh God, Micah, you’re going to make me crazy.” Her eyes opened as her head lifted.

  She stared down her body, her breath catching at the sight of her pinkened flesh parted and hugging the stiff shaft buried only halfway inside her.

  “Is that all I get?” she breathed out in disappointment.

  Micah groaned.

  As he pulled back, Risa caught a strangled cry in her throat at the sight of her slick juices coating and clinging to the hard flesh.

  “So hot and wet for me.” Micah ran his finger over the wet flesh, collected the moisture, and as she watched, brought it to his lips.

  His hips slammed forward as he licked her taste from his finger.

  Risa screamed out with the pleasure. The sight of him tasting her, the feel of him plunging full length inside her, was nearly too much. She could feel her orgasm swelling inside her, building, taking her over.

  “Do you know what I want, sweet Risa?” His hands gripped her hips as she stilled, him buried inside her to the hilt, his cock throbbing against the tender tissue gripping it.

  “What do you want?” she moaned. She knew what she wanted. She wanted him to move, to thrust, to stroke until she was screaming with the pleasure of it.

  He leaned closer. His cock went deeper, flexing and throbbing as she fought to breathe from the pleasure of it.

  “I want you to let me behind you, Risa,” he crooned. “I want to stoke your pretty ass as I fuck you. I want you to give me all of you, baby.”

  She stared back at him in surprise, with a tingle of uncertainty and fear.

  “Behind me?” She tried to think, to assure herself she could do it, but all she could do was feel him inside her.

  He moved, pulled back, pressed back, and she moaned at the tingling rush of sensation.

  “Behind you, Risa. It will be so damned good. I can stroke your pretty clit while I fuck you hard and deep, or play with your tight little nipples. You’ll love it.”

  She shook her head. Could she bear it? Would the nightmares flood her? Would the fear rush in and overtake the pleasure?

  “Micah.” She stared back at him in distress. She didn’t know if she should be turned on or terrified of what he wanted.

  Then, he pulled away.

  “No. Don’t stop.” She reached for him, desperate to bring him back to her.

  “Come here, baby.” He pulled her up and turned her, pressing her knees to the bed as he placed a hand against her shoulders. “Just there,” he crooned as his hand slid over her shoulder and under her chin. “Now look up. See what I see?”

  What she saw was her face, flushed with arousal, her eyes too large, darker than normal, as she stared into the mirror over the chest of drawers at the side of the wall.

  Behind her, Micah looked like a conqueror. His dark face tight and honed with lust, his black eyes glittering in approval as he caught her eyes in the mirror.

  Her lips parted in shocked surprise and wonder. She wasn’t ugly here. She looked like a woman, she looked unlike herself. The mask of passion and need that covered her face gave her a softer, gentler appearance.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned.

  Risa stared at his image. The way one hand gripped the thick, dark cock as he held her hip with his other hand.

  “Now, let me show you how to get naughty, sweetheart.”

  He tucked the head of his cock between her thighs, pressed it against the swollen folds, and eased it just inside.

  “Take me, Risa. Work your pretty pussy over my cock. Show me how naughty you want to get.”

  How naughty she wanted to get.

  Risa stared into the mirror, her gaze fixated on Micah. His shoulders flexed with power; a small rivulet of perspiration ran down his chest to be absorbed by the spattering of rich black hair that grew across it.

  His abdomen flexed. His hands tightened on her hips, and Risa moved.

  She watched her hips press back, felt the full width of his cock stretching her, overstretching her, taking her.

  “Micah,” she breathed his name in a rush of exquisite pleasure.

  She pulled almost free of him and watched the tight grimace of hunger that twisted his face. His lips were drawn back from his teeth; he looked wild, primitive. He made her feel wild.

  “Touch your breasts, Risa,” he groaned as she stroked back on his erection. “Let me see you play with those tight little nipples. I love your nipples. Sweet little berries that taste like nectar against my tongue.”

  She moaned and lifted one hand to play with a nipple. She gripped it, tugged at it, and worked herself on the stiff flesh impaling her.

  She was becoming lost in the pleasure. She could feel it. With her eyes locked on his, she let her fingers trail from her breast to her stomach. Curiosity consumed her as deeply as the passion. Her fingers moved between her thighs, and she moaned at the feeling of her hot juices against her fingertips. Her lips parted on a silent cry as those fingers encountered the iron-hard flesh she was moving on.

  A silent snarl curled his lips as his head tilted back on his shoulders, his eyes closing as pleasure tightened his face. The sight of it weakened her, threw her closer to orgasm, and strengthened her in the same wash of sensation.

  Her shoulders collapsed to the bed as her fingers found her clit. The fingers of her other hand found a nipple and she knew he was watching. She could feel his eyes on her as she twisted her hips, pushed back, and took all of him.

  She eased along his cock, pulling free of him only to push back with a desperate cry as her hungry flesh sucked him back in.

  She was lost. Moaning, crying, filled with him and desperate for more.

  “Open your eyes,” he ordered roughly as she felt him move over her. “Look at me, damn you. Look at me, Risa. See me loving you.”

  Her eyes opened. His face was next to hers as his knees rested between her thighs on the bed now. He was taking her, his hips moving, churning, powering his cock inside her in hard, repeated strokes that pushed her higher, pushed her closer.

  “Micah,” she whispered his name, feeling the explosion building inside her. “Oh God. It’s too good. It’s too good.”

  “Always,” he groaned. “Ah God, Rissa. Ani ohev otach. Ani ohev otach, Risa.”

  I love you. He loved. He was torn apart by the emotions pouring through him, tearing at him, whipping through his mind as he felt his balls tighten, felt the onslaught of release at the moment he felt Risa explode in his arms.

  “Micah,” she screamed his name. “Oh God. Love me, Micah,” she cried the plea. “Oh God, please. Please, Micah.”

  She bucked, then tensed; then Micah felt her. Her juices rushed around his cock as he felt his release crash inside him. Sensation raced along his spine, then back to his balls. His semen spurted from the tip, spilling inside her in a rush of heat as his hand gripped her head, turning it closer so his lips could cover hers. So he could hold back the vows that rocked him to his soul.

  She was his forever. He would always be hers. Into eternity he would love her. And if he didn’t know to his soul that she was protected, then he would have sworn that a pleasure this deep, this profound, could have only one conclusion.

  Shuddering against her, Micah released her lips and groaned at the final pulse of release that jerked from the
tip of his cock.

  He was breathing hard, heavy. He couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen to his brain; he couldn’t still the thunder of blood enough to make sense of all the emotions, all the sensations, that had crashed inside him in a wave of ecstasy.

  She lay beneath him, sated, the tension slowly easing from her body, covered by him. The trust the position had taken rocked him to the core. He hadn’t expected it. He had expected her fear, perhaps a denial. But he hadn’t expected the trust she had given him.

  “Ani ohev otach,” he whispered again. The words of love in his native language, in a language as old as time, with a love that filled his entire being.

  He had never known love outside a parent’s love, or his love for his parents. He had never known the love a man felt for that one woman who would complete him.

  “I love you, Micah.” He barely heard the words. Her face was pressed into the blankets; it was no more than a whisper of sound, but it crashed inside him with a power that rocked him clear to his soul.

  God help him, how was he to let her go when this finished? And he knew, clear to his soul, in the warrior part of his subconscious, the end was coming. Risa would be safe. He’d have his vengeance, but when it was over, there would be nothing left to hold on to. Vengeance would be ashes in the wind, and his heart would always linger in the darkness, always following one woman, a shadow of her shadow.

  “I could stay here, covering you like a blanket meant to protect, forever,” he whispered at her ear. “You are a light that will always guide me, a whisper I’ll always strain to hear.”

  Her slender body shook on a sob as he felt her fingers digging into the mattress.

  “Know that, Risa.” He kissed her neck, her shoulder. “Always remember, in my life I will never know a warmth as sweet, as giving, or as beautiful as you are.”

  She shook her head as he eased from her, but she curled against him eagerly when he lay beside her.

  “Talk to me.” Her voice was filled with tears. He felt the dampness of them against his chest and felt them in his soul.

  “What should I talk to you about?” He let his fingers comb through the silken strands of her hair.

  “What makes you happy? What memories are best to you? Just talk to me, Micah. Tell me about you.”

  He breathed out heavily. She made him happy. The memories of being with her would always be the best to him.

  “I remember the desert,” he whispered. “Israel is a place of many people and yet many beauties. The desert can bake a man in the day, freeze him when the moon rises high. It’s a place of brutal beauty and enduring strength. It nourishes a man, even as it challenges him.”

  “It’s very violent,” she whispered. “I was there once, a long time ago with Jansen. I wasn’t allowed out of the protected house he’d been given use of.”

  “You would love Israel if you had the chance to experience her,” he promised Risa. He would love to see her there beneath the blazing sun. To show her all the secrets Israel held, as well as the vast richness. “There can be violence; that part of Israel is splashed across television sets around the world. But you rarely see them show the ocean as it caresses a moonlit beach. Or the desert that shifts and changes on a daily basis. It’s secretive and resourceful. It respects strength and power, and gives it in turn.”

  “What is the breeze like?” Her voice was honey and sweet pleasure. It was a light in the darkness, the promise of warmth in the winter.

  “The breeze can be gentle with the heat of the desert filling it, sinking it into your pores as though it would sustain you with its earthy gift alone. Or it can be sharp and wicked; it can tear at the flesh and slash at the bone as though it were a woman displeased with her lover.”

  He chuckled at the light pinch she gave his hard abs.

  “See what I mean?” He caught her hand in his. “Wicked woman.”

  Her soft laughter flowed over him like the desert’s gentlest caress.

  “Do you have family that you left there?”

  Micah stared at the ceiling before he shook his head. “I have only a cousin. A rabid little female as stubborn as the desert itself.”

  “And you love her,” she said softly. “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Yes, I’m quite fond of her.” He would have smiled at the thought if he weren’t well aware of what he had left her to. The need to choose between Risa’s safety and Bailey’s comfort wasn’t a simple one. He consoled himself with the fact that both would survive in the end. They would have their lives ahead of them; whatever they desired could be theirs.

  “When you leave, will you remember me, Micah?” Risa asked then, her voice in the darkness stroking over his senses.

  “Even death could not steal your memory from me,” he promised her.

  Silence filled the room. Dawn was coming and with it the knowledge that he would have to hurt her again. Her grandmother had told Noah that Risa had flatly refused to attend the medical banquet thrown each year. Medical professionals from around the world would be in attendance. The best and the brightest in the medical field would don their evening finest and mingle in an event created to allow each to make the contacts needed to access the myriad funds made available for medical research.

  The ball would be held in a week, and until then, there were several parties thrown as individual scientists and doctors arrived in the city.

  The first of those parties would begin later in the night. He would attend as Risa and Abigail’s guest, as would Ian and Kira Richards. Jordan and Tehya would be there as well, with the rest of the team providing backup and security.

  And Micah knew Orion would make another move soon, most likely at one of those parties.

  “I’m cold,” Risa’s soft voice dragged him from his thoughts.

  Micah let his hand caress down her back before he dragged the comforter from their hips to her shoulders. The air was a little cool, he admitted.

  She snuggled closer to his chest and was silent so long that he wondered if she had fallen asleep.

  “I would have liked to have seen your desert with you.” When she spoke, the emotion in her voice seared his heart. “Will you think of me if you ever visit it again?”

  “Always,” he promised her softly. “I will always think of you when I think of the desert.”

  He would always think of her, no matter where he was, no matter what he did. He would always carry his memories and his loss along with him.

  “Maybe one day I’ll see your desert,” she said softly. “And I’ll think of you, Micah.”

  He stared up at the ceiling; he saw into the past, and he saw into the future. He saw the bleak darkness he had known before she came into his life, and he saw his return to it once she was safe.

  And he saw himself, always watching her from afar. Always craving her.

  Letting her go would be the hardest thing he had ever done.

  RISA WAS SURPRISED that she was able to sleep at all. But sometime before dawn she drifted off in Micah’s arms and slept without nightmares.

  She was aware of him, even in sleep. She knew when his breathing evened out; she dreamed he kissed her forehead and whispered, “I love you,” in the gentlest voice.

  She dreamed of the desert awash in warmth, the sun shining down on them, and she dreamed he disappeared from her side to become a part of that desert.

  When she awoke late the next morning, she showered, ate the breakfast he prepared, and went quietly back to work at her computer.

  She couldn’t think about tomorrow today. She couldn’t let herself imagine him walking out of her life, even though she knew it was coming much more quickly than she had envisioned before.

  “I have a couple of meetings scheduled today,” she told him as she booted up her computer and the reminders popped up on her monitor. “Several clients are stopping by to drop off some information I need for their accounts.”

  “I remembered,” he told her. “Jordan completed their dossiers several nights ag
o. They all came in clean, so we’re good to go. I’ll be here with you just in case.”

  She turned back to him with a frown. “Clients don’t like discussing their information in front of others,” she told him worriedly. “If you hang around here, they’ll be suspicious why. They’re regular clients, so they’re used to meeting with me alone.”

  His hands propped on his hips as he glanced at the kitchen door. Risa knew she should be focusing on the problem of those clients rather than the jeans and T-shirt he was wearing or how sexy those jeans looked when paired with boots.

  The man was definite eye candy. He wasn’t traditionally handsome; he was rugged instead. Rugged and sexy as hell. And right now, he had that dangerous glint in his eye that assured her that he was focused solely on ensuring her protection.

  “I can go to the kitchen.” He nodded. “I’ll let them in, then retreat just inside the entrance. I’ll be close enough in case any of them pose a threat.”

  A shiver raced up her spine as a surge of wariness raced inside her. She should have canceled the meetings. It was too late now, but she should have followed Jordan’s advice there rather than insisting that she had to keep those appointments.

  “Don’t worry, Risa.” Micah soothed those nerves with his silky, dark voice. “Jordan and the others are just across the hall. There’s a listening device we’ll activate before the first meeting so Jordan will be aware of everything that’s going on, and I’ll be just inside the kitchen. You’re completely protected.”

  She nodded firmly before turning back to the computer. She was protected, she assured herself. Everything would be fine.

  IT WAS ALMOST time.

  Orion surveyed the healing wound on his foot before shaking several pain pills into his palm and washing them down with water.

  The medication helped dull the pain, but his senses felt fine. He was still in control; that was all that mattered.

  Replacing the pills in the bedside table drawer, he pulled his laptop across the bed and clicked through the pictures that had come across through the night.