Safe in His Arms (29 page)

“Oh, Mac,” she moaned, turning her head to show him her bright, passion-filled eyes. He watched the flecks of brown bursting along her lighter irises as he fed her his cock. Her naked skin slid along his and her low cries filled the shower, making him insane to fuck her. She was so tight he had to pump into her slowly to gain every inch. Her lips caught his attention, snagging him until he had to shut his eyes as the image of her pink lush mouth opening around his dark flesh beat at him. He had to make this good for her, not come like some teenager on his first date.

“Mac, oh, God, you’re so big,” she whispered into his throat, then started blindly kissing him, clearly as far gone as he was. She tried to force him to impale her deeper, using her legs to arch herself backward, and her hips forward.

“Slow down, slow down for me,” he groaned, attempting to hold her still while she ignored him and tried to push herself down his shaft. Her eager thrusts nearly broke his control. He tightened his hands on her ass and pressed her gently to the wall, sliding out then slowly back in, watching her eyes flare with wild lust.

“Look at me, Mandy, feel me.” He wanted her to love him, know him for the killer he was and still love him. She’d yelled at him earlier, yelled that no one would hurt anyone she loved, but he needed to hear her say it. Say she loved
him
. He needed to blow the lid on his past and have her see him for the killer he was and still love him.

“I do, oh, God, I do, Mac.” She arched her neck and her breasts quivered against his face. He turned his head, keeping up the shallow, driving strokes, and sucked one hard nipple in his mouth, devouring the little bud with deep, long pulls of his mouth. He loved her breasts. Loved how responsive she was to his touching her. Loved how she looked in her damn bikini and felt like both plump breasts were his. He drew harder, jerking his hips to drill deeper into her soft tight body.

She screamed his name, dug her sharp nails into his shoulder, and shivered under his mouth. His balls felt too tight already, his hardened flesh like a bar of steel, but he forced his body to slow down. He knew what he wanted. He wanted her to come. Not once, not a simple, fast orgasm that left her feeling like she was floating, but a dark, deep orgasm that ripped her inside out and reformed her with him as her centre. That’s what she’d done to him.

She gasped when he released her berry-ripe nipple and took the other in his mouth, giving the quivering flesh the same treatment. He shafted her slowly, building up to deeper, stronger strokes.

“Oh, God, Mac, please, oh, God, please, I can’t stand it. Harder, I want it, I want it.” She moaned into his ear, sounding desperate and so hot he pressed her back to the wall and bit down on the side of her lush curve of her bosom. “Oh, God, yes! Mac, again, again, more.”

His tether broke. He rammed up into her, driving deep with her pressed between the hard shower wall and his body while he devoured her. She sobbed his name and twisted her head on the white tiles. He buried himself deeper, the steel-hard erection he had going on feeling like he was driving into a softly sucking paradise. He released her breast to tongue her ear and slid a hand along her back to her sweet little puckered opening just like she had him. She rewarded him with a flood of moisture along his shaft and gave a breathy gasp. Spreading the sweet juices from her pussy around and around that tiny hole, he began pressing lightly while her cries grew breathless and wild. Taking his time, he finally breached the tight muscle and she gasped in a breath, arching up in his arms.

“Oh, Mac, I can’t take it, please, oh, Mac—” She broke off with a wild cry when he pressed up to the knuckle. She cried out in pleasure. His head nearly exploded. He started fucking her with deep, driving strokes, keeping that finger deep so she could feel him there, where he wanted to be. Not now, but hell, soon. Soon he’d claim every inch of her.

“There, Mandy, I want all of you. Every hole, baby, I’m going to fill with me. You’re mine, Mandy,” he husked the last in her ear and listened to her cries grow louder, more out of control. He started pumping inside her ass, in and out, keeping the strokes careful.

Within seconds, she clenched around his dick and sobbed his name, coming undone in his arms. He fought the need to follow her orgasm and instead pressed another finger in with the first and kept them there while she trembled in his arms.

“Say it, sugar. Say it, tell me what I want to hear.” He eased his fingers in and out, sliding easier past the tight opening.

“Oh, God, Mac, oh, God, I can’t take it, please, oh, Mac,” she breathed. She shuddered and her inner walls clamped down on his erection.

“Say it, baby.” He froze deep inside her pussy and teased her with slow, steady strokes of his fingers in her ass. “Say you’re mine. Say you’re mine. All of you. Every hole, every part of you is mine.”

Her brilliant grey eyes opened and he winced at the lost, sexy look. She was flushed, close to another orgasm. He knew where she was, he’d been there only moments before when she’d sucked him deep.

“I’m yours, all yours, Mac, oh, God!” She broke off when he stole her mouth in a hot, wet kiss. Her pleasure was all the permission he needed. He matched the tempo of his hips with his possession of her ass. She wailed his name against his lips and went limp in his arms. She was so lost to the pleasure, he could feel the tight little clenches that shivered along his cock. He couldn’t hold back. His balls drew up hard and fire streaked down his back, circling his spine before shooting out in a powerful burst deep inside her body.

“For you, Mandy, always for you. Give it to me, baby, take it, take it,” his rough groan sounded tortured, dark and still hungry for more. The heated warmth of his semen inside her shattered him in ways he couldn’t name, but he knew, deep in his soul, while he poured out his cum inside her tight body, that only she could make him whole.

”Only Mandy”
he whispered the words into her hair.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I think I like you and water, sugar,” Mac told her from where he was towelling dry his hair. He seemed lighter, younger in a way she couldn’t quite understand, but she liked it.

“I think I like you in water, too, Mac,” she replied with a hint of double meaning in her words as she trailed her fingers over the front of the towel he had wrapped around his lean hips. Under her hand, his cock twitched.

“Gonna get him up to attention, sugar. Then what?”

She fell back on the clean sheets—yes, she had checked them—and smiled up at him. He was so sexy, so hot and hard, so male, so…strong. The man. Well, he’d fallen apart in her arms—or mouth. He hadn’t sounded so in control and powerful urging her, pleading with her in that dark whisper not to stop.

“Mmm, I bet I can think of several things to keep your little soldier busy.”

He laughed. A real, honest to God laugh. She’d heard him laugh like that before. She’d known him since she was ten, but he’d rarely laughed. One of those deep, belly laughs she’d not heard since… She stared up at him and tried to remember.
Years.
It had been years before he’d left her.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and tossed the towel on the floor, kneeling on the bed and landing on his side next to her. The bed dipped and she laughed, finding herself turned and facing him before he’d even completely settled on his side, watching her.

“What?”

“You. That laugh. You need to do that more.”

His hazel eyes darkened and he caressed her cheek with his knuckle. She loved his hands. They were so very male. He had square, but long, talented fingers. The rough calluses along his palms only added to the feel of him. He’d always had calluses. Even at fifteen, he’d had a man’s hands.

“Maybe I have,” he offered.

She tilted her head and watched the light from the window play with the strong features of his face. He had dark eyes sometimes, other times they were light, like sand. His dark blond hair was still too short, but at least it’d grown enough that she could curl her fingers in it.

“No, I don’t think so.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, his eyes flickering from her face to her curls, then back. She thought he stared at her lips a lot more now, and found herself smiling at the thought.

“Mmm, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she said, too quickly because that hazel gaze landed on hers with a sceptical expression.

“We need to talk, huh? Maybe be honest with each other,” he finally said. She watched him, amazed at his serious words and the tight expression on his face. He was going to bring up something painful. She just knew it.

“About what?” she finally asked because he didn’t say a word.

He exhaled heavily and looked away from her face to her hair again. “Tell me what happened at the house, Mandy. Let’s start there.”

The
oh shit
moment lasted too long because he met her eyes again, this time with a dark demand on his expression.

That night rose up, blocking the happiness of this stolen moment.

“Baby, look at me,” he demanded.

She did and swallowed past the pain she saw on his face. “There are things we need to talk about, lies between us we have to get out in the light. I’m not going to change how I feel about you if you tell me. Can you say the same when I tell you some of the darkest parts of my life?”

She sat up and shrugged his hand off her arm. “It’s not the same, you are a soldier, and you’re a man. You’re worried about being a fighter when that’s what you’re trained to be.”

“A killer, you mean.”

His soft murmur stole her breath for only a moment before she turned on him, anger simmering through her body. “Oh, a killer, huh? I bet you think I should feel bad about you killing those men,” she whispered, “or about me, killing that monster? I threw up, you know, I had to clean that up too. I guess it was reaction—” She stopped and paused, feeling sick gain just thinking about the way she’d cut into the man’s vest. “But you know what? I don’t. I won’t. You did what you had to. I did what I had to do. And unless we go to jail for it”—she turned a curious look at him, but he shook his head and snorted—“then there’s nothing to do but go on.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly thinking something she couldn’t guess at. She’d been honest. She didn’t feel badly that he had killed men who were trying to kill her. She didn’t. Maybe she should, but she didn’t. In her eyes, Mac was a hero. Just like her brother. She felt sick at what she’d had to do, but if that same thing happened again, if a man like that tried to rape her? She’d do it again.

“Mandy, you killed a man. We need to talk about that—”

“No, no, we don’t. He would have raped me—” She paused when he tried to interrupt her. “Don’t, just don’t. You were right to go—”

“I wasn’t right not to check that all the damn men were dead, Mandy. I wasn’t right to leave you—”

She covered her ears and shook her head. “Shut up! Mac, there isn’t a way to change the past. I’ve tried. Don’t you think I’ve wished that repeatedly? You can’t.”

She exhaled heavily and they stared at each other, both of them stubbornly sticking to their idea of what was right. Finally, Mac grimaced and rubbed his face with both hands, sighing deeply. When he dropped them, he simply nodded.

“Yeah, baby, I know that.”

The acceptance did it. She could take Mac telling her what to do and stand up to him. She could take him stubbornly trying to force her, but his acceptance did it. He needed this, she realised. Maybe she did too. The nightmares would be bad, she knew.

“It was my fault, really.” She took Mac’s hand and held it to keep him quiet. He watched her closely, but stayed silent. “I went out to get some food, you know? I mean, it seemed so easy. I’d gone through the cabinets and I realised there was nothing there. So, I went out.” She swallowed and grimaced. “Without the gun. I left it. You never would have.” He tried to say something but she shook her head and, for once, he listened to her. “He was already inside. I tried to get him to leave. I warned him, but he moved so fast, I didn’t reach the gun in time. I did shoot him, Mac. I swear the shot simply went off and he stumbled backwards—” She paused and the image of it all happening all over again shivered through her.

“Shh, baby, you don’t have—”

“Yes, I think I do, Mac.”

He nodded silently and tightened his hand on hers.

“I shot him, but it didn’t stop him. I guess—” She stopped and swallowed past the fear she’d felt comprehending that she’d not hurt him enough to stop him.

“Some gunshots won’t, baby.”

She nodded and went on. “He knocked the gun from my hands. He was so angry, Mac.” She paused but quickly went on. “He said some nasty things, then pulled my hair and tried to get me to blow him.” She shrugged and said, “So I punched him in his junk. He dropped the machete, and went for the gun.” She had to pause again to fight back the tightness in her throat and Mac squeezed her hand harder. He looked like he was nearing a breakdown. He must have thought that the guy had raped her. “It happened so fast after that. He didn’t rape me,” she reassured him and Mac frowned harder.

“Fuck, I know that, Mandy. I just—”

“Let me finish, okay?”

Mac squeezed her hand and nodded.

“Suddenly he had my gun, pointed at me, and you know, I just, I didn’t think—” She tried to work it out. “The gun was mine, he had it and I told him to drop it, but he aimed it right at me. Suddenly I realised I had the machete and I just hit him with it. I didn’t mean to hurt him, just kinda knock the gun aside, or him aside and run, like you said, but it, well…didn’t work out that way. It hit him in the neck, I think. He bled so much, so very, very much. The thing sliced along his vest too before it fell to the floor.”