by CC MacKenzie
"I have six brothers, all older than me. I'm the baby."
He blinked and the look in his eyes slid away as his brows rose into his hairline.
Elena had the distinct feeling she'd just dodged a speeding bullet.
"Six?"
"Yep."
He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek.
A habit, she realised, something he did when he was trying hard not to smile.
"And what do your brothers do?"
She didn't miss the searching question in the question.
It was, should I be afraid?
Oh yeah, buddy.
Be very afraid.
It cost her, but she kept her face straight.
"Two policemen. An E.R. surgeon. Three in the military."
His face didn't exactly go pale, but she spotted the way he drew back, just a little.
"And every one very protective of their little sister."
It was a rhetorical question.
But she answered it anyway.
Elena leaned over the breakfast bar and all the while her eyes stayed on his.
"Better believe it, big boy."
The big boy tag had been a mistake, she knew it as soon as the words had left her stupid mouth. She knew it by the way he leaned back in the chair, by the way he folded strong arms, and by the way he spread his legs and especially by the way his eyes narrowed on hers.
Shit.
"You said a lot of things to me last night, Elena. A lot of things." He paused. Oh God, she loved the way he called her Elena, all growly and deep. But what did that mean? That he was angry with her? While she was sitting here with her mind spinning out of control, he just sat there and studied the way her face went nuclear, the way her breath was panting too fast, and the way she was chewing her bottom lip.
Now he moved to lean his elbows on the counter top as his eyes pinned her to the spot.
"So what I want to know. No, strike that. What I need to know right now, is do you still feel the same way about me this morning?"
Chapter Nine
Hell, yeah!
Elena wanted to scream the words.
But a belated sense of self-preservation held her back.
What would happen if she said yes?
What if he walked away once she'd admitted her feelings?
But how likely was that, really?
Her whole body went on tingle alert, inside and out.
What was that old saying again? Nothing lost, nothing gained?
"Well," she said, and licked parched lips. Her eyes flew to his when he growled in his throat. And she took it as a clear warning to get on with it. "I did say that you make me tingle. And I can say, quite truthfully, that I'm tingling now."
The pupils in his eyes fully dilated, but his hard mouth went soft in a way that made her lick her lips again. His response was to stand and make his way around to her side. There was a hot rock lodged in her throat making it very hard for her to swallow. Very slowly, still sitting in her stool, she turned around to face him. His hands reached for her, cupped her face. And as soon as he touched her, her whole body went up in flames.
The outside world was eerily quiet as thick flakes of snow steadily drifted down from a heavy sky. All that could be heard was the crackle and hiss from the log burner and the frantic beat of her heart against her ribs.
Eventually Elena took a deep breath, she had to or she would have passed out.
He smelled amazing.
Shampoo, peppery cologne and aroused male.
Now his breath was on her mouth.
"Look at me."
Definitely a command.
She obeyed.
And her eyes rammed into his.
At that moment Elena felt as if she was falling into him, a sensation that was not only wonderful but terrifying, too. His eyes stayed on hers as he kissed her and she kissed him right back. His mouth was hard and soft and firm and smooth. When the tip of his tongue ran along her bottom lip and then her top lip, she opened her mouth and let him slide all the way inside. His tongue danced with hers, tempting, tasting, tantalising her senses. God, he was really, really good at this. And then his teeth tugged so, so gently on her bottom lip, pulling it before letting go. And then his tongue soothed the sting. She reciprocated the move, heard and felt his groan shudder through his big body. And now his hands pulled her close so that she was sitting right on the edge of the stool and set between his legs, his hard length pressing like steel into her belly. His head eased back, although his body stayed connected to hers. Now his hand slid up her shoulder, past her neck, to cup her face. His thumb rubbing her bottom lip as his eyes held hers in thrall.
"Touch me," he whispered. "Like you did last night."
Her breasts were heavy now, the nipples aching and throbbing with a need that matched the heavy liquid beat between her thighs. She knew she was slick and hot and swollen and scared stupid. And it would only get worse for her if she touched him. Nevertheless, her hand slid between them and she cupped him, pressed the flat of her hand against steel that her touch made grow. Now he was pulsing under her searching fingers. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark as his big body shuddered once, twice.
"Tell me," he whispered in a throat that was hoarse with need. "Do you still want me to do all those things to you?"
Elena hesitated to respond, and for a split second a flash of vulnerability entered those blue eyes. If she hadn't been staring right into them, she'd have missed it. As it was, it was gone so fast, she wondered if she'd imagined it. But that flash made her brave, made her take a risk, made her believe what she was doing was not wrong but so very right.
"I want you to do all those things, and more.... but..."
He kissed her hard, once.
And then he was staring into her eyes again.
"But, what, Sweetheart?"
Her eyes filled and she blinked frantically.
Now was so not the time to fall apart.
"I'm scared."
"That makes two of us," he admitted.
She read the sincerity in his denim blue eyes, in the husky tone of his voice.
"What's happening to us?"
His eyes searched hers as his thumb stroked her hot cheek.
"I think it's called a chemistry that's off the charts."
That made sense.
It was certainly something very special and very scary.
"Have you ever experienced anything like this before?"
She had to ask, if for no other reason than to try to understand.
He shook his head.
"Never. Will you trust me not to hurt you?"
Her lids fell, hiding her eyes.
"Last night," she said. "You must have been terribly frustrated, hurting. I'm so sorry, Marc."
"Look at me." Her lids rose and she saw a raw and ravaging need that almost took her breath. "I can't lie. I didn't sleep a wink last night. But you were under the influence of an alcohol you'd never had before. What sort of man would I be to take advantage of that?"
Now her hands rose to cup his face, to let her thumbs rub along the stubble of that strong jaw, that determined mouth.
"A good man." She kissed him on the mouth and then she pressed her body into his, relaxed, and surrendered to this good man.
Marc felt her yield to him.
Now her mouth was hungry on his as her desperate hands were tugging his thermal up. He dragged his mouth from hers to whip off his tops and then he moved to strip her. As her body was revealed, his breath caught in his throat. She wasn't wearing a bra. His hands were shaking as he reached out to gently cup her swollen breasts. They were so firm, the skin so soft, like velvet wrapped in silk, as he tested their weight. Perfect. His thumbs stroked and flicked rosy nipples that beaded and pulsed. She threw her head back with a moan that vibrated through his body and arrowed right to his dick. The sting in his loins had him hiss out a breath. He'd never had a woman so responsive to his touch like this woman. Now her hands were at
the buttons on his jeans, her eyes wide as she released him. He wasn't wearing underwear and was so fucking glad.
He helped her shove his pants past his knees and then he toed off his socks and tugged down her pants and panties as she kicked off her boots, her own socks.
And then they were standing in front of each other, their hands linked as they stared at each other, bare naked, for the very first time. She was beyond his wildest dreams. Her eyes were too wide, filled with a desire that made him want to weep with something like joy. Her mouth was trembling with each breath in and out. The hectic beat of her heart was fluttering in the pulse beneath her ear, against her ribs. He could see it and feel it as he held her hands tight. Her breasts were high, the tips reaching towards heaven. Her waist dipped and then flowed into lean hips, boyish. And then his gaze explored the swollen heat of her slick womanhood, tucked safely between the cut of her lean and long thighs right down past her calves to slim ankles and narrow feet. He knew she was doing the same thing to him. Checking him out. Her wide eyes spent a long, long time on his package. And his dick pulsed as it reached out searching relentlessly for its mate, her. His body seemed magnetised as it tilted towards hers.
He'd never felt anything like it.
At the edges of his mind, of his consciousness, he acknowledged the fluttering wings of fear. No fucking wonder. Because he knew instinctively that if he took her the way he wanted to, the way she wanted him to, both of them ran the risk of losing something that they might never get back.
The human heart was an organ that in some ways was stronger than titanium. But only if it gave love and received love freely and unconditionally. And in other ways the human heart was as vulnerable as dragonfly wings. Hard words, feelings unspoken, or deception might shatter a heart into a thousand pieces and break a person apart emotionally and physically.
Marc knew this.
All the while his hands were learning, like Braille, every curve, every sensitive spot on that wondrous body that made her breath hitch, made her shudder, made her moan, his mind continued to debate, to give him a choice.
Give everything to this woman, without conditions.
Or take everything from her and give nothing back.
What was it to be?
Chapter Ten
Elena sensed the change in him.
He'd stopped stroking her when something like a sob had escaped from his throat.
She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead into his heaving chest, felt the heavy thud of his heart and just breathed through an arousal that was more pain than pleasure. His shaft was pressing, pressing into the soft flesh of her bare belly. God knew her body was ready, more than ready for him.
"What is it?" she whispered.
His hands stroked her back in a soothing rhythmic touch that did anything but soothe.
"I'm having a moment."
Now she rubbed her cheek against the light sprinkling of soft dark hair on the taut skin that covered his pectoral muscles. She smelled him, the scent of a clean aroused man. And Elena knew she'd recognise that scent anywhere, even if blindfold. Her hands continued to explore. Lord, he was built. She loved touching him, loved feeling the way his muscles tightened and then trembled under her searching fingers. She let her hands stroke up his strong back, over wide shoulders, before sliding down, down to massage his tight ass. His groan was neither pain nor pleasure. It was a bit of both.
Since they were taking a breather, Elena took the time to search her feelings and her heart to make sure both were good with what she wanted from him. The truth is always there if a person is open enough and honest enough to ask the right question of themselves at the right time. What did she want from him? And the answer was clear. She wanted it all, everything he could give. To be honest she'd known what she wanted as soon as she'd set eyes on him. As soon as he'd arrived at Ludlow Hall. He was a man who meant business. A genuine man. An honourable man. She wanted him in her life, for good. And if they were lucky, maybe even babies.
The enormity of where her heart was going hit Elena too hard.
Because she knew that in order to receive she needed to give, without strings, without a tie that bound him to her.
Now it was her turn to sob.
And Marc went utterly still under her hands.
"What is it?" he whispered.
Perhaps, Elena decided, they were both going a little bit crazy with the terribly potent sexual chemistry, all the pheromones, that were screwing around with their systems, their thought processes.
"I'm having a moment."
She had to laugh because lust had, in the space of a few minutes, turned into something else. Maybe it would have been better if he had taken her last night, when she was all relaxed and ready and wanting and willing.
Trust her to find a man with ethics and a strong moral compass.
Well, she'd opened up to him last night and he hadn't gone running for the hills.
Might as well tell him the rest of it.
"You're trembling," he said.
"I think we're stuck."
He eased back.
At least his upper body eased back, the rest of him was plastered against her.
His blue eyes were still dark as they studied her breast, as his knuckles stroked her swollen nipple. As if he couldn't help but touch her.
"Stuck?"
His mouth twitched as his tongue explored the inside of his cheek.
Her brows rose.
She was glad someone was finding it funny.
"I think maybe we want this too much. And it's a bit overwhelming."
He blinked.
"You're feeling overwhelmed?"
"Of course, aren't you?"
He dipped his head to rub his beard over her cheek.
"Baby," whispered in her ear, his voice harsh as he held her too tight. "I'm fucking terrified."
It wasn't so much the words, although they were definitely powerful. It was the tone. A tone filled with an agony that she could get behind since she felt it herself. And right there, Elena knew that someone needed to take the lead, so it might as well be her.
After all, what did she have to lose?
Plenty.
"You're trembling again," he muttered in her ear as he just stood there and hung onto her.
Now she was the one to ease back, to hold his face between her hands, to look deep into those blue eyes.
"I think I've fallen madly in love with you. I've never said those words to a man before. Except to my dad and my brothers. But they don't count at the moment. I love you and I'm really scared. Because if this goes to hell, then I don't know if I'll ever recover."
She wanted to ask him if there was a chance he might love her, too.
But that wasn't what love was all about.
It wasn't about I love you so you'd better love me back.
He shook his head.
And just like that her heart dropped to land with a sickening thud at her feet.
And she shut her eyes tight because she didn't want to hear it.
Then his mouth was on hers, coaxing her to open. With a sob in her throat and a heart that felt like it was shattering into a thousand pieces, she gave him everything.
He was breathing heavily by the time he lifted his head to stare into her swimming eyes.
"You humble me. I've seen bravery in Iraq, in Afghanistan. I've seen men and women risk their own life for others. But you, you are the bravest person I know. And I'm falling madly in love with you, too. I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin, but I love you so much it hurts. It hurts me, Elena."
And then she was scooped up in his arms, as if her weight didn't matter. Which was nothing more than an illusion because Elena knew she wasn't a light weight. She threw her arms around his neck as he stumbled up the narrow stairs.
"Jeez, these stairs are going to kill me," he muttered against her hungry mouth.
By the time he staggered into her bedroom and dumped her on her bed, she was laughing her he
ad off. She leaned on her elbows and raised her brows as she watched him fist himself and stroke his length.
"What happened to being bent over the arm of the sofa and being taken hard and fast?"
His smile split his face in a way that she'd never seen before.
He was happy.
And her heart soared.
"I thought we might start with the basics first. I want to see your eyes when I make you mine, when you come."
In spite of having central heating, the room had a chill to it, plus they were naked. Now Elena pulled back the comforter and welcomed him in.
They lay on their sides under the comforter, all warm and snug and facing each other, not speaking, just staring into each other's eyes.
"Why do you keep stroking yourself? Shouldn't that be my job?" she said.
His smile made her tummy flip.
"I'm trying to calm the beast. It's been a while for me."
"Don't you want to take the edge off?"
"I'm a gentleman. The lady should come first."
She grinned and moved in closer, her mouth within kissing distance of his.
Placing little nips of her teeth and little licks of her tongue on his mouth, her hand slid down to cover his and then lower to cradle his balls. The groan that escaped from his throat coincided with his full body shudder.
In a flash she was under him, long legs wrapped around his hips, her arms holding him close. Her hand thrust through his hair, her nails scratching his scalp as the steel of his shaft slid up and down her wet, slick heat, teasing her until she sighed.
"I want to taste you." Was all the warning she received as he took a long, lingering journey down her torso, taking his own sweet time to torment and torture her nipples. Then he loitered at her belly button, using his tongue to taste and tease. His nose nuzzled the tender skin between hip and thigh as strong hands slid under her bottom, lifted her core to his mouth.
She waited and waited for him to touch her... there.
By the time he'd kissed and licked and tasted everywhere but... there, she was crying his name. Then the lips of her sex were spread and he used the flat of his tongue to lick again and again. He used his tongue as a weapon of pleasure, spearing it inside her. But when he sucked the swollen bead of her clitoris, gently used his teeth, she flew apart.