Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (12 page)

She stopped, closed her eyes, and hummed in contentment to be impaled on his hard length, waiting for him to do what he wanted to her. Honesty tumbled out, not able to be held back anymore.

“You feel so good inside me. I love the way we fit together,” she said.

“Carrie,” Michael said, calling her name to make sure she knew that he knew
exactly
who she was.

Moaning, she rocked on him, and Michael watched her reaching for bliss.
Yes. God, yes, let me cause your pleasure
, he thought, shifting his hips up to push farther into her before he caught himself. Something was very wrong.

Either that, or it was very, very right.

“Wait—Carrie. Stop—we forgot to use protection,” Michael choked out.

The slide of her riding him made him forget his good intentions. He gripped her hips to stop her, but instead ended up using them to help her stay upright.

“I don’t remember you being so reticent last time, Michael. What are you worried about now? You already got me pregnant,” she teased sarcastically, glaring at him and resisting his efforts to keep her still.

When she didn’t obey him to stop, Michael gripped Carrie’s hips and held her still for a moment, his need for her becoming feral when she writhed and tried to escape his hands.

“It was only just yesterday that you didn’t want this at all,” he accused through gritted teeth. “Why are you suddenly willing to give me all of you?”

“Last time your art seduced me. This time—let’s just say I’ve decided to exercise my options—
my exclusive options
for the next few months. Keep it exclusive and you can have me,” Carrie told him, using her business voice while she rose and fell, rocking forward and groaning at how good Michael felt under her.

Did Carrie just say he could have her? Over and over for the next few months?

Michael rose to a sitting position, tipping Carrie a little backward so he could better see her face. He saw a resolute, aroused female with determination in her gaze. It hardened him further and had her shuddering as he pulsed inside her.

Mine,
he thought.
Finally.

“We are definitely exclusive,” Michael said, almost losing control when she grabbed his hair again and clung. “You satisfy all of me, lady. I hope like hell I can return that favor to you sometime.”

Michael pulled her hips down with his hands as he pushed up into her, reveling that there was nothing between them but naked lust.

His hand came up to grab her hair as well, pulling hard enough to have her calling out as he kissed his way from her collar bone up her neck until he finally covered her mouth with his.

“Sorry,” Michael said when he broke the kiss, easing his grip on her scalp only to tighten it again as Carrie pushed down on him and pulled his hair hard as she rocked.

“Carrie. You’re driving me crazy, woman. I’m trying not to hurt you. Let me have some control,” he demanded.

“No. I’ve been here before and I know what you’re really like. Stop being so damn careful and show me some
enthusiasm
,” Carrie ordered on laugh, the crude demand rougher with her arousal.

She was hovering on the edge of release, but Michael wasn’t doing much to actively send her over. She could get them both there with her rocking, but his carefulness was driving her insane.

“
Enthusiasm?
You want enthusiasm? Fine. I’ll show you enthusiasm,
Carlene
,” he said, laughing and flipping them until Carrie was under him and pinned. Michael didn’t move for a minute, just pushed down hard, enjoying the heat spreading through both of them. “I swear you are the hottest woman on earth. You’re like a blast furnace on the inside.”

“Got something you need melted?” Carrie asked, her voice steady as her challenging gaze sought his aroused one in the dark.

“Damn right I do,” Michael whispered. His first hard thrust rocketed them both off, especially when her muscles tightened around him making it nearly impossible for him to retreat and do it again.

“Stop that,” he ordered, the leash on what little control he had completely snapping at her husky laugh of triumph.

The next time Michael could move enough, he groaned and jerked Carrie’s head back roughly by her hair again, pushing into her as hard as he could at the same time.

Michael felt Carrie splintering around him and saw stars behind his clouded eyes when he heard her call out his name.

Ironically, the first waves of release for her finally brought him the freedom to do whatever he wished. He definitely wasn’t passing up the chance to make the most of her submission. He knew too well that it wouldn’t last long.

“Yeah—let’s see how you like being on the receiving end of what I want. You’re mine now,” he told her roughly. “I’m in control and I intend to keep it for at least the next fifteen minutes.”

Michael rolled them both to the edge of the bed and hung Carrie’s head over the mattress as he plundered the rest of her, shifting his body to rock against and into her, leaving her body with no choice in the matter but to arch itself receive his thrusts.

Her only leverage was him, but he wasn’t letting her use him that way.

Instead, he tortured one breast with his mouth and then the other, doing no justice to either, just taking what he could in the moment as she moaned beneath him.

It had been too long to make decent love to her, Michael thought. He was reduced to merely obeying the urge to claim his mate.

“I’ve thought of nothing but doing this with you since the last damn time I did this with you,” he told her harshly, burying his face against her throat, his mouth hot against her skin. “I need to be with you as much as I need to breathe.”

“Michael,” Carrie called, struggling then to raise her head because she wanted to see his face, to see if it was as true as he was making it sound.

Michael reached down behind her to cushion Carrie’s head in his hand, never breaking his rhythm of taking her, relishing every moment of her surrender as well as his possession.

“If I had anymore enthusiasm for you, I’d put us both in the hospital, and they’d have to operate to separate us,” he told her, gripping her hard as his release swept through him at last.

He heard her moaning at the first gush he sent inside her, and it met a need in him he hadn’t even known he had. If there hadn’t been a child already, Michael had no doubt they would have created one in the fire that blazed between them tonight.

This is right
, Michael thought, gratefully emptying the rest of himself into Carrie. It was better this time than before, he decided, feeling her pulsing in rhythm with his stroking as she tumbled over the edge again and called his name.

When he was done at last and she lay unmoving beneath him, Michael managed to slide their still connected bodies completely into the bed until Carrie’s head rested on the mattress once more. He braced himself up on his arms, trying not to rest his full weight on her. A minute later Carrie knocked his arms out from under him, yanking him down hard on her before hugging him fiercely.

“I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” Michael said, shifting until he could use his arms to hold himself off her, though she wasn’t allowing much.

Saying nothing to explain her actions, Carrie just held him very tightly, very fiercely until Michael almost cried at how close she held him to her heart. Several minutes passed while they simply stayed locked together in their fierce embrace, neither of them speaking.

Finally, Carrie eased her hold, and Michael did too.

“The baby isn’t big enough to be squashed yet, and I’m fine. I’ll tell you if you get too heavy,” Carrie said, tugging on the handful of his hair she now clutched like a lifeline. “I like this part—the after part. So be still and let me enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Michael said meekly, laughing softly as he tucked himself carefully around her. He liked the after part too—or at least he liked it with her.

It was just one more validation about them being meant for each other as far as Michael was concerned. Definitely the kind of woman his father had talked about, Carrie was the woman he ached for and wanted to go back to again and again.

“Satisfied now?” he asked, kissing her mouth.

“For the moment,” Carrie replied dryly, smiling at Michael’s derisive snort. “You talk too much during sex, but it was fun being compared to a blast furnace.”

“Better get used to it because I like to talk to you. And what I told you wasn’t just bedroom flattery. I thought the same thing the first time,” Michael told her, kissing his way across her face as he moved against her and made her sigh. “Our child was definitely created in fire.”

Not able to deny it and not willing to confirm it, Carrie’s only answer back to Michael was a nod.

Then she closed her eyes to escape the memories that threatened to ruin her current sexual contentment.

Maybe if Michael could forget his first time with her, then she could forget her first time with him. They were well matched now, just out-of-sync in their memories.

She remembered college. He remembered the night their child was conceived.

It was a chasm Carrie didn’t think they could build a bridge across since it was highly unlikely Michael was ever going to understand the magnitude of hurt he had caused her back then. Which meant that tonight—no matter how satisfying—had changed nothing, not that she’d expected it to really. But she would make that okay, Carrie decided. Sex never changed anything anyway. It never had before.

Yet lying beneath Michael with his body still connected to hers, Carrie wondered how she was ever going to be able to give him up after the baby was born. She had never felt this satisfied being with any other man, not even come close with either of her husbands.

Not that outstanding sex was enough reason to tolerate a bad emotional situation, but Carrie had to admit she didn’t care about much when she was holding Michael in her arms. It was just one more weakness she had to contend with in herself.

Tomorrow her insecurities would visit again, she knew. She would see Erin and the other women at work. It would feel like her college days all over again.

It was only tonight that Michael was all hers.

For the next few months, she would need to get really good at living in the present if she was going to enjoy the benefits of being his wife in the biblical sense of the word.

While Michael kissed her softly and whispered to her that she was wonderful, Carrie stroked his hair and tried to forget her trepidation as she fell asleep in his arms.

Chapter 9

“Michael, I’m heading to work now,” Carrie said, patting his shoulder to wake him. “You can go back to sleep. I just wanted you to know I was leaving.”

“Were you sick this morning? I never heard you,” Michael said, rolling to his back and sitting up to blink at her.

Carrie watched the sheet fall and twist around his waist, pooling over the outline of what she knew was just beyond. She made herself move her gaze to his face.

His hair was wild this morning and he badly needed a shave.

He never looked better to her.

Memories of last night came rushing back to entice her. She had to get out of there quickly. A sigh for not wanting to leave him today just came out on its own.

“No, I didn’t get sick. I got a little nauseated earlier. I took the medicine and slept a bit after. Now I think I’m going to make it today,” she said, shocked when Michael leaned forward in bed and hugged her gently.

“Call me if you need a ride home. I’ll come get you. I’m going to work on my art all day. I’ll be on the patio making a racket, but I’ll put my cell in my back pocket,” he said.

Carrie nodded. “Okay. Go back to sleep for a while. It’s only seven thirty.”

Michael obeyed, falling back on the pillows, but he wouldn’t be able to stay in bed without her now that he was awake.

She stood and walked out of the bedroom, wearing a short skirt and a matching cardigan sweater set, looking as fresh as a teenage girl going to school. It amazed Michael to know she was thirty-two and pregnant with his child.

It also delighted him.

Thinking that Carrie was coming home to him tonight did too.

When Michael heard her car backing out of his driveway, he climbed out of bed. He needed to work today, but he also needed to make some more wedding plans.

Then he had an idea—a great idea.

He walked naked to the kitchen and found his cell on the table where he’d forgotten it last night. He picked it up, dialed, and started making coffee.

“Good morning. Am I waking you? Sorry. I know it’s early, but I wanted to ask you a big favor and give you some time to think about it,” Michael said, laughing.

He listened to his mother chastising him for being so secretive.

“Mom—if you’d stop fussing long enough to listen, I can ask the question. Would you be interested in helping me plan my wedding?” Michael asked.

Ten seconds of absolute silence was followed by a tsunami of concerns.