by Kaylea Cross
“I’m sorry too, because I knew it would hurt you to find out.” She squeezed his hand. It’s okay, Rayne.
“Chris, I...” His voice was low, shaken. “Come here.” He reached for her. “Just...please come here.”
She went into his arms without hesitation.
He locked her to him, making a rough sound in the back of his throat. She burrowed into his body, his strength surrounding her, protecting and comforting her. She wound her arms around, his wide back and held on, answering his unspoken need for solace as she pressed her hot cheek into the curve of his shoulder. He pulled at the neckline of her shirt and traced his fingers over the crescent-shaped scar above her right shoulder blade where another man’s teeth had permanently marked her skin. “Oh, God,” he whispered against her hair, shaking, turning his face into the curve of her neck.
She took his face in her hands, eased his head toward her. “Look at me.” He raised his reddened eyes to hers, making her heart clench. “I’m not afraid of you, just the opposite. You make me feel safe. I trust you, Rayne. I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t.” To prove she meant them, she lifted her face and touched her lips to his, reaching out with every ounce of yearning and hope inside her. Please don’t push me away. Not now. If he did she’d die inside.
He shuddered and an answering tremor ran through her at the anguish writhing in him, straining for an exit, for some kind of release, as if every male instinct was raging at him to lose himself in her, to burn away every ugly memory with his body. She wanted to offer herself to him and provide the outlet to heal them both. But not like this. First she had to help him transform the energy from wild, desperate passion to tenderness.
She stroked her fingers through his hair and over his face, gentling him, and stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his, letting the newfound calm inside flow through her into him. Heartbeat by heartbeat, breath by breath. His breathing eased, his hands cupped her face.
He kissed her harder, fueling a hunger she thought would never burn in her again. She needed this, craved him. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders while she opened her mouth under his. He made a low sound in his throat as she struggled to get closer to him, responding to the erotic glide of his tongue. All hesitation was gone, burned away by the uncontrollable wave of hunger that gripped her. When he finally pulled back she clung to him for balance, found him staring down at her in wordless awe.
Her body trembled as she struggled to contain the need pulsing inside her. Her breasts tingled and that hot throb between her thighs was now unbearable. God. The answering heat in his eyes made her tremble. A charged silence crackled between them.
As though afraid she would pull away, he wound his hands in her hair. “Do that again,” he whispered against her mouth, his heartbeat thundering against her chest.
She complied and his hands traveled over her face, her neck, her upper arms. A soft growl escaped him as their tongues twined, making her dizzy. When his fingertips grazed the underside of her breasts, she gasped. He stilled but she made a sound of protest and pulled his mouth back to hers.
More. She needed to feel more of him. She reached for the top button of his shirt and he took her hands in his. “Chris, you don’t have to—”
She cut him off with another scorching kiss. Yes, she did have to. She needed this part of her back again. She slid the first button through its hole and moved to the next one, pulling back so that she could drink in the line of skin she exposed. When they were all undone he shrugged off the shirt and raised her hands to his mouth to kiss them, sliding his tongue into the sensitive space where her fingers joined.
“Christ, just touch me,” he said hoarsely.
The starved note in his voice made something twist inside her. She splayed her hands against his chest, over his rapidly beating heart, awed by the strength of him. She trailed her fingers over him the way she’d wanted to for forever, reveling in the heat of his skin, all those beautiful muscles shifting and bunching under her touch. He let her stroke him, swallowing a groan when her palms moved down across his taut abdomen, grabbing them as they made their way to the waistband of his jeans.
“No,” he whispered against her mouth, brushing his fingers down the nape of her neck, making her shiver. “This is going to be about you, Chris.”
She quelled the nerves leaping in her belly. It would have been easier for her if he’d let her strip all his clothes off, explore every inch of him and give him as much pleasure as she could, without the added pressure of worrying whether her body would perform the way she wanted it to.
Willing the apprehension to drain from her, she nodded and closed her eyes. His knuckles slipped under the hem of her shirt and grazed her spine at the small of her back, then stopped. In answer to his unspoken question she grasped the lace hem of her blouse and peeled it over her head, leaving her in her skirt and pale blue bra. His eyes roved over her while she undid the flounced skirt and let it drop to the floor to reveal her matching thong. She swallowed, fought the urge to cover herself. She’d been told that men didn’t notice the imperfections on a woman’s naked body—they were just happy to see it naked. She hoped it was true.
“God, look at you,” he breathed, his eyes devouring her, his admiration buoying her confidence. At that moment she felt like the most desirable woman alive.
With a groan Rayne slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her as if he never wanted to stop. He took control smoothly, changing the rhythm of the kiss to an erotic slide and retreat of his tongue, making her strain against him with a pleading whimper. She needed his hands all over her, his mouth.
Breaking the kiss, he moved to her jaw, licking the tender spot beneath it where her blood raced just beneath the skin. A million goosebumps broke out all over her. She gasped, head tipping back to offer more and his hand curved around her skull to steady her as he zeroed in on the exact spot that lit her up like a Christmas tree. Head spinning, she surrendered to it, sucking a sharp breath between her teeth.
He hummed his approval against her throat, licking against the sensitive spot once more before reclaiming her mouth for a tender kiss. Then he surprised her by kneeling. He lifted one of her feet, unbuckling the delicate sandal and setting it on the floor before smoothing his hands over the arch of her foot and her ankle, up her calf to the sensitive spot at the back of her knee and along her thigh. Tiny points of fire burned where he touched. By the time he’d done the same to her other leg, she was shaking. Her body was alive with sensation, the ache almost unbearable.
He grabbed a pillow for her head and guided her onto her back on the thick rug to kneel beside her, then lifted her foot again and kissed the instep. His thumbs pressed deep into the arch as his lips smoothed over the tender skin. A small gasp escaped her at the warm, ticklish sensation. Their eyes locked.
His mouth slid up her leg, up her thigh to her hip. He paused to press a kiss low on her abdomen before trailing up between her breasts to linger on the front clasp of her bra. When she urged him to continue with an impatient murmur, he undid the clasp and slid the lace off her, making a low sound of need when her hardened nipples were revealed to his gaze.
The first touch of his mouth made her gasp and she arched toward him, moaning at every motion of his tongue, her body taut beneath him. He took his time, caressing and laving her until she trembled again. She was so wet, so ready. Urgency clawed at her. Gasping for air, she reared up to grab his shoulders and drag him down on top of her, desperate to feel his weight. Rayne complied, rolling to press a muscular thigh between hers, mouth still licking and nibbling her breasts with a torturous lack of haste.
She almost sobbed at the feel of him pressed between her legs, right where the throb was centered, bucking helplessly to try and relieve the terrible pressure. All too soon he pulled back, swallowing her incoherent words of protest with his mouth and replacing his thigh with his hips. He rocked the covered length of his erection against her. Mindless, she cried out and wrapped her legs around him, the
ache intensifying to an unbearable pitch. He did it again, that slow drag of his hips against her until she thought she’d die. His lips moving over her face, she barely heard his murmur of reassurance as he lifted his weight off her.
She wanted to weep. “No—”
“Shhh. I’m not going anywhere.”
His hands moved downward, brushing over the scrap of lace between her thighs. Her hips lifted toward him in a silent plea. She looked at him kneeling there in front of her, still in his jeans, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he touched her. He was so erotic and gorgeous part of her thought she must be dreaming. She wanted him naked and inside of her, now. But when she reached for him, he pulled away.
“No.”
“I want—”
“Shh. I know. Just let me take care of you.” At her tacit consent he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. She tensed at the touch of cool air between her thighs.
Icy gray eyes speared her mind. Her skin shrank away from the cold scrape of the knife as it sliced through her underwear. She went rigid, commanding herself to breathe, erasing the image, refusing to let the nightmarish specter take this precious moment from her. Rayne had gone still, watching her face.
“Want me to stop?” His hands framed her face, his shadowed eyes searching hers. “Tell me, darlin’, I don’t wanna scare you.”
The sweet concern in his voice helped ground her. Her body throbbed painfully. “I want this. I want you to help me do this.” Maybe after this first time it would be easier.
She held her breath, reached out her arms when he stretched out beside her, heat sizzling through her veins at the skin-on-skin contact. She let him roll her onto her back and glide his hands over her breasts and quivering stomach, down the inner edge of her thighs. Burying her head into his shoulder, she bit her lip at the intense pulse between her legs. His warm, gentle hands built the heat high enough to melt her fears.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling the curve of one breast as his fingers circled the skin of her inner thigh. Her hands tightened on his shoulders. Ever so slowly he moved inward, back and forth in a tantalizing motion until she parted her legs, dying for him to touch her. He brushed against her softest flesh, absorbing the jolt that went through her.
Burying his face in her hair, a growl reverberated through him. “God...baby, you’re drenched.” The last word sounded strangled.
She felt so slick and hot beneath his touch that she whimpered, and he eased one finger into her. Her spine arched. Pleasure pulsed deep in her core. The bubble of anxiety rose; she forced it down. What if she took too long? Would he become bored and frustrated, like Cameron had?
“Nice and slow,” Rayne coaxed, soothing and reassuring her even as he pushed her toward the edge. “Don’t think, just feel.”
She concentrated on the dark velvet of his voice, the tingling sensations between her legs gentle at first, then stronger. The tension built with every motion of his hand and she stiffened, fearing it would surge and then leave her stranded there, half crazy with the need for release. He swirled his fingertips over the swollen bud at the top of her sex and she cried out, nestling her face against him. “Rayne—”
“Shhh, trust me.”
She continued to hide and he allowed her the privacy, kissing the side of her face as he stroked her. He cuddled her close while the bursting pressure grew, then drank in each broken moan with his mouth as her breathing became shallow. Watching her face, he slid two fingers back inside her and rubbed a highly sensitized spot.
It felt so good—so incredibly good. She arched into him and squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, God.” She was going to explode.
“There?” he asked as he repeated the mind-blowing movement, his thumb gliding over her swollen clit.
She moaned and clutched at him, trembling and straining into his touch.
“So close, baby.”
Pleasure swelled to an unbearable tension until she wanted to sob. Instinctively, she fought it, some part of her still afraid of losing control, of letting go.
He bent his head and teased her nipple, swirling and suckling until she cried out and bucked beneath him, a wail tearing from her throat. “Shhh. I won’t stop.”
The soft vow pierced her, made the pleasure bloom so hugely that she couldn’t hold back and the orgasm swept through her, bowing her up against his strength as he anchored her.
He gave a growl of satisfaction deep in his chest and held her while the last tremors subsided, then cradled her head on his shoulder. She lay there for a while basking in the afterglow, her mind wiped clean. When she was able to move again, she leaned up to kiss him, sated and dreamy. She couldn’t help the ecstatic smile that spread across her face. Before he could say anything she kissed him and slid her hand down to his waistband. The next move had never felt so instinctive. “My turn.”
He swallowed as her fingers slid under his waistband, making his stomach muscles contract. “Only if you want to.” His voice was rough.
“I want to.” Not only had he given her more pleasure than she’d thought possible, he’d also made her feel secure and resurrected her self-esteem. It was too soon to say the words, but she knew she was in love with him. She would show him instead.
She popped the button and tugged his jeans down his legs, then knelt and slid her palm over the rigid length of his erection through his boxers. He hissed in a breath but remained still, and she reveled in her feminine power. She might be a little inexperienced, but she knew at least one way to please him. She drew his boxers down and held him between her hands, savoring his heat, the softness of the skin overlying his hard length.
He tensed. “God.”
She rose to her knees and watched his face as she stroked him, tension creeping into his jaw and shoulder muscles. His hand wrapped around her fist, squeezing tighter, then slid up over her thigh to grip her hip as she continued the movement. She loved how he laid there so quietly, stretched out and utterly at ease with giving her control of his body, his eyes glittering up at her with unsuppressed need. She explored him, following every cue he gave her with the changes in his breathing and that molten gaze. She wanted to draw the pleasure out, make him writhe.
With a growl he grabbed her hands but she ignored him, bending over him to press her breasts to his naked chest while nibbling her way up his throat to his jaw, licking her way into his mouth. “Wait,” he gasped between kisses and closed his eyes, jaw rigid. “Slow down.” She did, wanting to make it last, and kept on stroking him until he was shaking. Rearing up with a low moan, he gripped handfuls of her hair and kissed her while his erection pulsed in her grip. His whole body shuddered until he collapsed with a groan of ecstasy. “Chris...”
She smiled against his lips, kissed his flat stomach and scooted to curl up beside him. Who knew sex could be so easy with the right partner?
He opened his eyes. “Pretty proud of yourself, huh?” he asked, one corner of his mouth curving up. “You should be.”
She felt incandescent, invincible.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, kissing her as he got up. “Be back in a second.”
He came out of the bathroom a few moments later all cleaned up, still stark naked. A little thrill rushed through her at the sight of him, still astonished that she was free to touch and kiss that gorgeous body at will. With a low growl Rayne bent and scooped her up, carried her to the couch. He lay down and pulled her on top of his chest. Cuddling into him, she rested her head over the steady throb of his heart, swallowing the tears of relief and gratitude that came out of nowhere. He hugged her tight, stroking her hair while the quiet torrent rushed through her. With a sigh she fell asleep, his heart beating beneath her cheek.
Chapter Sixteen
The instant Rayne woke alone, he knew something was wrong. He sat up in his empty bed, where he’d carried Christa sometime in the middle of the night and tucked her securely against him. The bedside clock read five-freaking-thirty a.m.
He strained to hear the shower running, Christa moving about in the kitchen, but only silence came. Throwing on his jeans he made a quick tour of the cottage, finding it empty. Disappointment filled him. Then concern.
Where could she have gone? Maybe Jake had been desperate for a walk. But she wouldn’t have ventured outside on her own, especially not after Nate’s update. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then went to the front door, practically sagging with relief when he saw the rental vehicle still parked in the driveway. So she hadn’t gone far, but where was she? He went back to the living room and peered out at the beach, seeing nothing but banks of fog and churning gray waves past the eaves dripping water. Maybe Bryn had seen her.
He grabbed his phone. She answered on the third ring.
“Hey, I was wondering if—”
“Yeah, she’s here. She was out walking her dog. At dawn.”
Rayne exhaled and leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Thanks.” His gut still said something was wrong. Something about last night? When he hung up, he flopped onto the couch and raked his hands through his hair. It bugged the hell out of him that she’d up and left without a word. He was a man of action, accustomed to taking charge and solving problems. Well, he sure had a problem here. Last night he’d finally realized he was in love with her, and this morning he’d woken up alone.
That’s right—God help him, but there it was. He loved her. Staring down into her trusting aquamarine eyes last night, his heart had teetered on the brink for a moment longer and free-fallen into the unknown. It hadn’t scared him then, but this morning he didn’t have a clue what the hell he was supposed to do next.
He was frustrated by her sudden withdrawal, hurt even. Life as he knew it was about to take a one-hundred-and-eighty- degree turn. She was it for him. From now on, though, whenever he made a decision he had someone else’s thoughts and feelings to consider first. If things progressed between them they might even move in together, into his condo or her house, if she could face living there again after the attack. It would be weird giving up his place with the ocean view, his independence, but he’d been a bachelor for so long, he was ready to make room for her in his life. The woman he cherished, who made him a better person.
