“Do you? Do you really need me?” His mouth hovered right above the juncture of her thighs. He leant down and blew a light, teasing breath over her flaming, swollen flesh.
“Yes,” she screamed, fighting against the restraints to get to him. “Fuck me, Brock. Please fuck me.”
“Oh I will, I promise, but first, there are some things we need to settle.” And, just like that, his lips and hands were gone, leaving her turned on, confused and slightly chilled from where his body had once shared heat.
“I’m finally going to have my say, and with you tied up, there’s nothing to distract me,” he told her, sitting in the room’s one chair. A stark, straight back chair that had to be uncomfortable.
“But…” she stumbled, at a loss for words.
“It’s time I told you everything. Everything from six years ago, about why I walked away and why I came back. Until I do, we’re going no further.”
Chapter Seven
Emma looked confused and furious. A dangerous combination on any woman, but his Emma had a devious mind to go along with those looks. Braver men than he would already be running for their lives, but Brock had things he needed to say. He couldn’t continue to hide from the world, and he refused to allow Emma to do the same.
“Em,” he said, leaning forward to prop his hands on his knees, anything to keep from reaching for her. “I had a lot of dreams when I left you that first time. Dreams about making a difference in the world, helping others and defending my country.”
“Brock, I know all that. Why do we have to dredge the past up?” She lay there, looking as regal as royalty and as naked as the day she was born.
He forced his mind away from her mouth-watering curves and back to the conversation he wanted—no, needed—to have. “Emma, I really need you to listen to me without interrupting. I’ve never spoken to anyone about some of the things I’m going to tell you. My shrink knows the majority, but mostly surface stuff.”
At his words, her beautiful eyes went wide. “Your shrink?”
Refusing to be embarrassed for his need for counselling, Brock nodded, but turned his head away. “Yeah, it took me a while and almost getting lost in the bottle before I went in and—” He glanced back at her, noting the light of interest in her eyes and the way she’d finally stopped tugging her restraints. “You promise to let me get it all out?”
She didn’t say a word, just nodded.
“Okay.” He blew out a hard breath, not sure where to start. “Like, I said I went over there with all these dreams of glory, but I was so wrong. A stupid kid with the body of a man and the ego of a child. I hadn’t been there a month when I saw my first dead body. I didn’t know the guy well, just someone I ate with, but then he was dead. That’s it, no do-over. It freaked me out, and it finally hit home that this wasn’t some game we were playing where everyone got to go home at night and start over the next day. People die in battle, real people with families and futures…gone. At first…” He groaned, remembering the naïve kid he’d been. “Shit, at first, we’d joke about it. Tell each other what to do if we got hit. Then my buddy, Kurt, did get hit. A roadside bomb went off, killing him and everyone else on the convoy he was escorting. He’d told me what to do, if his turn ever came up, but damn it…it was supposed to be a joke.”
Tears threatened his vision as he remembered his friend. “It was no joke. I went through his stuff to pack it up and ran across a picture of his girl. She didn’t look anything like you, but I kept thinking, this could be Emma. How could I do this to you? Bring my nightmare back and taint you with it? You were the only thing pure and clean in my life by then. I had some R&R saved up and I took it. I took Kurt’s stuff to his family, thanks to my CO pulling some strings, and watched their lives fall apart. By the time I left Kurt’s parents’ house, I knew what I had to do. I didn’t care if you hated me. Hell, I wanted you to hate me, anything to keep from destroying your life. Anything to prevent you from having to get a box of my belongings and a sympathy note from the government. I loved you too much for that, Emma. I thought the best way to protect you was to walk away.”
Brock didn’t look at her, just kept his gaze locked slightly above her shoulder. Even with the shame of his confession, his body ached to join her, to sink inside her tight wetness and lose himself all over again. If he hadn’t insisted on this damn conversation, he’d be over there fucking her right now.
“Damn idiot,” he whispered to himself, all the while knowing he couldn’t keep the truth to himself. Not if he wanted to have a real chance at winning Emma back.
“You stupid, selfish, idiotic, man-thinking man!” Emma yelled.
Brock flinched at the level of her ire. “Baby, you have every right to be mad—”
“Brockston Cage, don’t you fucking dare to tell what I have a right to feel.” She swore and pulled on her bindings. “I can’t believe I let you get me into this situation. Damn it, I’m such a fool.”
He could handle having his pride walked over. He could even, with deep breathing, handle being called a coward, but nothing ever hit Brock so hard or so low as seeing tears fall from Emma’s eyes.
“Please, Em, don’t cry. Scream, hit me, anything, but crying,” he pleaded, crossing the room to kneel on the bed.
“You stupid jerk. I can’t hit you. My arms are tied up, as you very well know.” Emma managed to sound affronted and amused at the same time.
A smile started to curve his lips. Brock bit down to keep it from appearing, but a smothered snort from the bed caught his attention.
Emma, in all her curvy, naked glory, was doing her best to prevent another gasp of laughter to escape. Those unique hazel blue eyes watered, not with tears of pain, but of suppressed amusement.
“Oh Em, what am I going to do with you?” he whispered, giving into the temptation and running his hands over her silky skin. “I love you so much, baby. I’ll do anything to make the past up to you,” he vowed, his gaze caught on the full mounds of her breasts. Their dark rosy tips, hard and pinched, begged for the touch of his lips, tongue and teeth.
“Fuck me, Brock. Right now. We’ll deal with everything else later. I need you right now.” Those sweet, soft hips lifted with her demand while the shiny blond curls covering his personal heaven gleamed with moisture. “You started this and you will damn well finish it.”
Calling on years of self-discipline, Brock looked straight into Emma’s desire-darkened eyes. “Are you sure, Em? I don’t want to take advantage—”
“Fuck advantage, and fuck me, Brock. I’m tied up, wet and helpless. What more do you want…a freaking sign?” She ended her words in a screech which had to call every canine within a fifty-mile radius.
His Em had changed and he loved every nuance of the differences. Before, Emma would never have demanded he take her. Suggested, hinted and teased, but never would she have come out and insisted.
“Yes, ma’am. I live to serve.” Then he pounced.
Emma knew there were things she should be doing besides begging Brock to fill her, but nothing came to mind. She licked her dry lips, desperate for the taste of him flooding her mouth.
In one smooth move, Brock’s hard form covered her own smaller frame. “I’m giving up, Em. I’ll haunt you until we’re eighty.”
“Fine, so long as you have a steady supply of Viagra, we’ll be good,” she quipped and rubbed her quivering clit against the rough crispness of his six-pack abs.
“God, you’ll kill me, but I can’t think of a better way to go. Loving my Em to my dying day.” He nibbled at her lips, licked the sensitive flesh with a rough satin tongue that demanded entrance into her mouth. Emma dropped all her barriers and opened herself as she’d never done with another man. True to form, Brock swept inside like the warrior he was and demanded everything she had.
There would never be another man to take her over completely with just one kiss. Desire pulsed hard with each beat of her heart, wetness seeped between her legs, her breasts ached and her nipples throbbed. Desp
erate for more, she tangled her tongue with his, immersing herself in his flavour.
They were both breathing heavily when Brock lifted his head.
“Oh fuck, baby, that was good.” Briefly, he rested his damp forehead against hers. “I don’t think you have to worry about me kicking the bucket at eighty, tonight’s going to do me in.”
“Not until I come and you get me out of these cuffs.” Her eyes narrowed in warning.
“Deal,” he promised and went back to feast of luscious flesh laid out before him.
She trembled under his gaze, both alarmed and excited, and started to close her eyes.
“No, watch me,” he demanded. Closing his fingers around one taut nipple, he pinched lightly and tugged the sensitive flesh. “Feel good.”
“Oh yes.” She whimpered as desire streaked through her like flashes of lightning heating her body and sending her close to the edge.
He moved his other hand and fondled both breasts. With a low growl, he leant down and replaced one hand with his hot mouth. Emma cried out at the hot wave of pleasure/pain from his sharp teeth.
“More?”
“Yes.”
He switched his mouth to her other breast. Emma froze before his lips touched the puckered nipple. She groaned, tried to lift her legs and cursed when they wouldn’t move. “Brock.”
“Soon, baby. Want you ready for me.” he whispered around her nipple.
“Am ready,” she panted back, desperate to feel him inside her.
Her not-so-flat belly tensed as his hand slowly trailed down her flesh. She tried to thrust closer to his taunting fingers.
“What do you need, baby?”
“You.”
“Where?” His damned finger slid down, brushed her clit, then slipped away.
“Brock!” she wailed.
“I’ll give you whatever you ask for, baby.”
“I want to fuck your fingers,” she cried out, her face burning with need and arousal.
“Your wish is my command.” He leant down and kissed her mouth hungrily, shoving his tongue deep, taking her over. When he pulled back, Emma shuddered with need.
He spread her nether lips, damp with her desire. She wanted him there, touching and tasting her. She watched Brock’s jaw harden as he slipped one finger into her grasping cunt.
Emma let out a happy moan.
“Want some more?” Sweat beaded his forehead, but Brock’s eyes were glued to the action between her legs.
She worked her hips against him, pushing him to give more. He pulled back only to thrust three fingers back in deeper and harder.
Emma bucked and screamed his name. Pleasure rose up to swamp her again. In the distance, she heard Brock swearing then his mouth replaced his hands. He took her, desperation lacing every suck and lick. His hot tongue found and teased her clit, then his lips latched onto the swollen flesh and he sucked. She climaxed again with a shock of pleasure that shook her whole body, but Brock didn’t stop.
Emma bucked against the pressure as he slipped his fingers into her. Brock cupped her hip, lifting her tighter to his mouth. With each drugging pull and thrust of his fingers, her orgasm crested over and over again. When she didn’t think there was anything left to give him, her body wet and replete, Brock set his teeth on her clit and gently bit down.
Emma screamed and thrashed against her bonds as the universe exploded through and in her. Stars soared past in colourful rainbows before she settled back into her weary body.
“Emma?”
“Umm?” The man had to be crazy if he thought she had the lung capacity to speak.
“Everything okay? Your wrists aren’t hurting?”
“No.” Weakly, she opened her eyes to find his gaze burning over her, her legs still sprawled open, her glistening curls bare to his touch.
“Fast and hard, Em, okay?” His breath came out in pants as if his control was almost a thing of the past.
Lacking the energy to do anything but nod, Emma moved her head as he slid a condom on and moved over her. After gently lowering onto her, he captured her face with his hands. “I love you, Emma.”
She blinked at him, stunned by the words and the sincerity she saw. Emma couldn’t explain what she felt, the rightness of being with Brock again, the erotic enjoyment of her naked body pressed against his. Despite the years of anger separating them, despite the lies that had kept them apart, Brock felt like her soul mate, the one being in the entire universe meant to complete her. Just being with him made her feel more alive than the past six years without him. He was the spark, the missing piece of her soul. Brock was what she needed in order to make her life complete. His love filled her in a way nothing else could.
And she could do nothing but love him in return. Even if he walked away again, Emma couldn’t prevent her heart from leaping into his hands.
When she opened her mouth to spill her heart, he kissed her. “Not now.” He breathed gently against her swollen lips. “For now just let me love you.”
With tears filling her eyes, Emma nodded, and he released her hands, freeing her to touch him.
Trailing his lips over the soft column of her neck, he pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat radically. His tongue danced around it, the tip teasing her sensitive flesh.
With the heat of his body burning into her, Emma wrapped her hands around the thick shaft and caressed him with tight hard strokes. She rubbed her finger over the red, slit, feeling the drop of liquid dotting the broad head. She massaged the fluid into his skin. Brock moaned and squeezed her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple hard.
“Now Brock, please,” she cried, unable to believe her body could crave him again so soon.
“Now,” he agreed, using one hand to guide himself into her. She shifted her hips, eager for his entry. And in one hard thrust, Brock embedded himself balls deep within her body.
Like a cord had been cut, Emma watched as Brock lost all sense of control. Rough hands spread her thighs farther apart as he continued to ram his cock home, hard thrust after hard thrust. His hands were everywhere, squeezing her nipples, pinching her breasts and occasionally smacking her lightly.
“Harder,” Emma demanded, running her hands up and down his muscled back, determined to take all of him. “Fuck me harder, Brock.”
What she wanted, he gave. Lifting her hips with his hands, Brock held her lower body in place while he took her, using every bit of his muscle and strength to give Emma what she demanded.
The only sounds in the room were of flesh hitting flesh and the wet, sucking noise of hard sex. Emma lost herself in the demands of her body, in the feel of Brock’s cock pounding into her pussy with everything he had. Her release built, winding tighter and tighter until she feared the explosive pleasure would kill her.
“Let go.” Brock heaved over her, sweat dripped from his tanned flesh onto her pale skin. “Come for me, Em…now.”
Hearing Brock’s demand then feeling his fingers squeezing her over-stimulated clit sent her into orbit. She gasped and arched her body, clasping him as her orgasm exploded, raining spasms of erotic twinges throughout her body. Dimly, she heard Brock’s shout and felt his come heat the condom inside her.
No one could live with this much pleasure, she thought before succumbing to the temptation of oblivion.
Chapter Eight
Brock looked up from the letter he’d written to watch Emma walk down the stairs. She looked sleep rumpled and well loved. And he’d give anything for the right to sweep her in his arms and love her all over again.
But first, she needed to read the letter.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said nervously, wishing he’d been ten minutes faster, but he couldn’t begrudge the time. Those precious ten minutes he’d spent memorising Emma’s beautiful face with her halo of blonde hair.
Her pretty brow wrinkled in confusion as she took in the scene while she stood wrapped up in their comforter. The old sanded logs of the walls that had been polished to
a high gloss, along with the immaculate wood floor, covered in one giant thick throw rug. The furniture was big, dark and plush, perfect for a man’s relaxation. A massive fireplace took up part of one wall with a stack of wood stacked nearby, ready to use. Doors in another wall led to bedrooms or a bathroom, and tucked away across from where he sat, lay a dream kitchen.
Cabinets lined a third wall, filled with books, movies and music, and a large flat screen took up the entire space over the fireplace.
When Emma cleared her throat impatiently, Brock knew he’d been wasting time cataloguing the cabin’s contents. He was afraid to hand her the envelope containing his every nightmare and demon. Could she really accept all of him?
“Brock, I asked you what’s going on?” Her foot tapped impatiently against the bare wood floor.
He gestured to the envelope on the table. “I left you a note.”
Anger flashed in her eyes as Emma stalked the last few steps between them. “You left me a note?” The last word ended in a scream.
Unsure how to calm Emma or why she was getting so upset, Brock backed away. “I didn’t want you to think I was—”
“Dumping me again after you’ve had your fun? A few quick fucks and it’s time to hit the road? You bastard.” Emma dropped the blanket and let her rage and pain take over. She lashed out with her fists and feet, wanting him to feel a small percent of the agony tearing through her. “I hate you,” she screamed in his face while the tears she’d tried to hold back burst like a dam from her eyes.
“Em, no, oh…baby, don’t cry.” Brock tried to console her, draw her into his arms, but she couldn’t let him.
Scraping together the last shreds of her dignity, Emma grabbed a napkin to dry her eyes and wipe her nose. She gathered the comforter around her once more before daring to meet his lying eyes. “We are done. No more, Brock. I can’t live through this again.” Her heart bled with each word she spoke. “You can’t drop back into my life, make me love you again then leave me. I’m not that strong.”
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