The Confession

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The Confession Page 18

by Sierra Kincade


  “I love you, Alec,” I said. “I love you. I love you.”

  His control slipped, and he drove his cock in to the hilt. The breath huffed from my lungs. His eyes shot to mine, searching for a sign that I was all right, and as my body stretched to fit to him, I gave him a small smile.

  For a moment we stayed like that. Getting used to each other’s bodies. Feeling the pounding of each other’s hearts. Trembling like virgins.

  He rotated his hips and my breath caught. Like an experiment gone right, he moved the same way again. My nails dug into the back of his shoulders and he hissed.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, releasing him.

  “No,” he said. “It’s all right.”

  He withdrew halfway, and then pushed into me again. I gripped him tightly, from my nails to my heels.

  “Oh,” I said. His cock rubbed that place even the memories couldn’t touch. I adjusted my hips so I could pull him deeper, even when it felt like he was as deep as he could go. I’d taken him all the way to the base.

  He continued these slow, measured thrusts until his brow dampened again with perspiration and a grimace took over his look of bliss. His pace had pushed me just beneath the threshold of insanity. It felt so good I could have come if he’d just given me a little more, but he held back, keeping the need blinding but my relief just out of reach.

  “Faster,” I urged.

  “I won’t be gentle.” He rested his forehead on my shoulder. “I’m trying, but Christ, you’re burning me alive.”

  His good intentions touched me, but I needed him to let them go now. I was about to lose my mind, and I couldn’t fall apart alone.

  I clenched my pelvic muscles, squeezing his cock. He groaned, and lifted his head to give me a warning look. I kissed him, and bit his bottom lip hard. My nails scraped up his back.

  He must have been barely hanging onto control, because that broke him. Before I could take another breath, he was fucking me. With one hand tangled in my hair, and the other pinning my hips down, he pumped into me, throwing me over the edge without warning.

  “Stay with me,” he growled. “Please, God, Anna. Say this is right.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  I shouted his name then, blinded by the explosion of colors and sensations that assaulted my senses. Then my words were gone, swallowed by the storm. I lost awareness of my limbs, of the parts of us that strained against each other, just as they fought to pull closer. There was only the sweet, shocking pulse that started in my center and radiated throughout my body.

  Broken words flew from his perfect lips. Take it . . . take all of me . . . feel how deep . . . so fucking good . . . good girl . . .

  I arched back and tried to straighten my legs, but he rose up, grabbed my hips, and yanked me against his body. His perfect abdominals flexed with each thrust. The sound of our sex rose above the rain pelting the outside of the building. Above the rush in my own ears.

  In a burst, I pulled my knees toward my chest and kicked out, shoving him back. His cock came free from my body, and I groaned at the lack of pressure. The orgasm was still resonating through my core, but I wanted more. I could focus on nothing else.

  With a look of surprise on his face I shoved him back and clambered over him. Straddling his thighs, I took him all the way, striking the root with a flash of pain so sweet it had me instantly craving more.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing my hips. “Look at you.”

  Lightning flashed across the room, followed by the shattering crack of thunder. I arched my back and rode him hard, never pulling too far out. I used his cock to rub the deepest places of my ragged soul. The passion made me wild, and I scratched his chest and tossed my head back.

  His thumb found my clit and one rough rub made me come again. I shouted out as the first wave hit, then I was at his mercy, locked against his chest as he filled my clenching body. A sudden rush of power overrode my pleasure and I forced myself to move over his slippery cock. This time it was him that jerked under me. His fingers that bit into my sides.

  “So good,” I moaned.

  “Anna.”

  “I can feel it. I can feel it.” He was still coming. His body giving me everything—all his pleasure, all his pain. I took it all. I rode him straight through the fire without looking back. It ravaged us both. Made our bodies slick with sweat. Made our hearts pound as one.

  “Love you,” he said, his voice breaking.

  One final jerk and he forced me to be still. Then he eased me onto my side. He kissed me, the rasp of his tongue soothing my raw emotions.

  Still semihard inside of me, he flexed his hips. He pulled my knee over his thigh. It had been a long time since we’d been together like this, and I could already feel the whispers of soreness, but he was gentle now, riding out the last of my shudders, until a new warmth built again.

  My breasts slid up and down his damp chest. My body rubbed against his. I broke our kiss with a shudder as my last jagged edges were softened by the overwhelming force of his love.

  He came a second time, strong arms wrapped around my body. And in the aftermath we surrendered to soft touches and shy smiles, while the wind outside pelted rain against the windows.

  “Don’t ever let me go again,” I whispered.

  “Never,” he promised.

  Twenty-one

  Some time later, my fingers were walking down Alec’s bare back, skimming over his muscles. He groaned as I found a place between his shoulder blades and pressed lightly.

  “Sore?” I asked.

  He scoffed, the sound half muffled by a pillow. Outside the rain had turned to a consistent patter, the storm having moved past.

  “I’m a man,” he said. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot men don’t feel pain.” I dug my fingers a little deeper, and he flinched and gave a wince. I smiled, and inched closer to whisper in his ear.

  “I can fix that, you know. I’m a trained professional.”

  “You’re off the clock right now.”

  He pulled my hand from around his back to his mouth and slowly kissed my knuckles. They were still bruised from when I’d attacked the punching bag, but the softness of his touch made me forget all about that.

  “Alec,” I murmured. “I’m going to rub your back, and you’re going to like it. Flip over.”

  He narrowed his eyes, but did as I said, and I straddled his lower back, trying to swallow the sudden jolt of sensation that came when my bare, swollen center touched his skin.

  He gave a grunt and stiffened, and I ignored the self-consciousness that rose up inside me. One of his arms reached back, and his hand gripped my ankle, assuring I couldn’t go too far.

  I leaned over him, my breasts coming flush against his winged shoulders. I warmed him like that, using my body the way I would have used a blanket with my other clients.

  “Relax,” I whispered, and nipped the side of his neck.

  “You’re naked,” he said, by way of an answer.

  Grinning, I pushed up, intent to show him just how much I adored his body. I started at his neck, gently running my fingers down the muscles. Then I moved to his shoulder blades and stopped short when he flinched.

  I fanned my hands over his skin, then moved lower.

  “Alec.” I closed my eyes, heart heavy. There were so many knots in his muscles, I could feel them with the lightest touch. I’d worked on car accident victims with less damage. The pain must have been tremendous.

  He turned his head to face the other way.

  I placed my flat hands on his back and let him grow used to this different kind of touch. A warmth, without the rush of heat. Part of me wanted him to share what was bothering him, but I knew Alec, knew that he would throw up his defenses if I addressed his problems directly. In time he would trust me again, but until then,
I needed to come at them from the side.

  “You have the sexiest back I’ve ever seen,” I said.

  He gave a small grunt.

  “I love this part right here.” I leaned down and pressed my lips against the place where the swell of his deltoids implanted in his shoulder. While he exhaled, I began kneading the opposite side, gently working my thumbs into the knotted rope that continued down between my open thighs.

  He tensed. Then gradually relaxed.

  “And this part, here.” I made my way lower, keeping my body pressed to his. A calmness came over him. His hand loosened around my ankle. His body told me things he couldn’t. About our time apart. About the trial. Not the details of what had transpired, but how difficult they’d been for him. Some people talked about their problems. Alec carried them right under his skin.

  I changed positions, so that I was off to one side. He tensed again as soon as our bodies were apart, so I lay on one side, draped my leg over his, and continued to massage my way down his lats. Slowly, he became putty in my hands.

  My fingers found the scar from where he’d been stabbed in prison, and ran down the two-inch length of raised skin.

  “How much do you think about this?”

  He turned to look at me, face half hidden in the crook of his arm. I continued to rub him, never straying too far from his body. He needed that connection now, I could feel it.

  “Sometimes not at all.” He closed his eyes. “Sometimes more.”

  “You never told me what happened.” I moved his arm so that I could open up his shoulder blade and rub beneath. He groaned in pleasure. I hoped I was healing the wounds I reopened.

  “I was in the cafeteria. There was a fight in the line for food. When I turned to look, I got a shank in the back.”

  I’d paused, but as soon as he finished, I started again. I didn’t want him to feel alone when he was thinking about something so terrible.

  “I hope the guy who did it got his balls chopped off.”

  He smirked. “I’m not sure the state would have approved that.”

  “I would have approved it,” I muttered. I rose to my knees and began working the far side of his back.

  “You should be a prison warden if this whole massage thing doesn’t work out,” he said. “The guy who did it walked away with a week in the hole.”

  “What?” I bent down to meet his gaze, just to be sure he wasn’t kidding.

  “The security cameras were all on different rotations. His prints weren’t on the knife. Later it went down as an accident with a broken fork or something. Max has a long reach.”

  I breathed out slowly, pushing back the hold he’d had on me.

  “Fucking ridiculous,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “You’re sure it was Maxim and not Charlotte MacAfee’s brother?”

  “I’m sure. MacAfee doesn’t have that kind of pull. I checked.”

  I felt myself frown. “You went to see Trevor . . . I mean, William?” Trevor Marshall, aka William MacAfee, was still in prison as far as I knew. He’d been transferred there after he’d recovered from the gunshot wound he’d sustained on the Sunshine Skyway Bridge three months ago.

  Alec didn’t answer right away.

  “We needed to clear some things up,” he finally said.

  “Such as?”

  He turned on his side, effectively ending the back rub, and pulled me close.

  “Such as I never meant for his sister to die,” he said. “Such as he’ll have no reason to contact you if he ever makes it out of prison.”

  I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. No. I had no desire to see Trevor again.

  “You’ve been looking out for me,” I said.

  He brushed my still-damp hair back.

  “I know you put in Amy’s alarm system and offered to pay for her therapy, too.”

  He glanced away now. “Your friend’s got a big mouth.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But I wish she’d told me sooner. I wish you had, too.”

  I kissed him softly on the lips.

  “She got a child support check recently,” I continued, gauging his reaction. “I don’t suppose that comes as a surprise to you.”

  He inhaled. I kissed him again.

  “Do I want to know what happened with that?”

  He smirked.

  “That was all Mike,” he said. “I was just providing . . . moral support.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, secretly delighted that Mike had taken up for Amy. I wondered what she would do if she found that out. “You’re a good man, Alec.”

  Before he could disagree, I was kissing him again. It felt right to kiss him. Like a missing part of me was finally settling back into place. His arms tightened around me. Never having completely lost his erection, I could feel him growing hard again against my belly, and wiggled closer. His hand lowered down my spine and gripped my ass, fitting me against him.

  Just like that, my heart was pounding again. I gasped as his cock settled between my legs. I was ready for him. Always ready. Nothing that had happened had changed that, a fact that relieved me greatly.

  He broke our kiss suddenly, and cleared his throat.

  “We should eat.”

  “We should?”

  “Yes,” he said. His eyes were on my mouth, and he leaned in again. Before he could kiss me, he pushed himself up, sitting with his knees bent while he ran his hands down the sides of his face.

  His sudden distance worried me. I sat up on the other side of the bed and tucked the sheet around my chest.

  “Sure,” I said slowly. “I could eat.”

  “Good.”

  He didn’t get up. My throat grew tight. He was probably overwhelmed by everything that was happening between us.

  If that was the case, he could go ahead and get over it. We were in this together now. The time for secrets was past.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

  He looked over his shoulder, brows pinched together. “What? No. No.” His gaze lowered to the sheet I’d used to cover myself.

  “I just got you back,” he said after a moment. “Don’t want to push my luck.”

  “By over-sexing me?” I couldn’t help but grin.

  He snorted, but looked away again.

  I thought of how he’d been trying to take things slow. How he’d brought me chocolate cupcakes and made me pancakes, and even when we’d finally made love, he’d been so concerned with my comfort.

  “I love you,” I said.

  He wasn’t facing me, and I watched his shoulders lower the smallest bit when I said the words. What I would have given to ease his tortured soul.

  “Well, I need to clean off,” I said. “Go eat if you want. But I’ll be in the shower. Naked. Rubbing soap over my body.”

  I rose, letting the sheet drop onto the ground, and walked to the door. I didn’t have on a stich of clothing, and every bit of me, every curve and imperfection, was out on display. I didn’t feel self-conscious, though. I felt epic. Like a model posing for one of the great Greek sculptors. That’s what Alec’s love did to me.

  When I reached the threshold, I looked back and saw the tight grimace on his face, and one hand on his hard, swollen cock.

  “It would be a shame if no one was there to wash my back,” I said. And then stepped out of the bedroom.

  I was going to give him ten seconds to follow. He only took three.

  * * *

  He made me come four times in the shower. Twice with his hands, and twice on his cock. He held me when I could no longer stand, and then washed me gently, and dried me off with a towel. Over and over he told me I was beautiful, and that I felt good, but even when he came I felt him holding something back.

  I reminded myself we needed time to work out the kinks. Though we had history, this relationship w
as still new. And like I’d told Carolyn the therapist, he was probably feeling torn. He loved me, I could feel that in every touch, see it in his eyes, but he was still frightened for what that love might cost us.

  I didn’t blame him. It frightened me, too.

  A few minutes after he’d left the bathroom, I followed. He’d dressed, in worn jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt that accented the shape of his chest, and was reading over some papers on the kitchen counter. Though he looked sexy, it didn’t seem like the most comfortable ensemble for lounging around at eleven p.m., and in response, I felt myself wrap the towel a little tighter around my chest.

  “Going somewhere?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “No, I . . .” He cleared his throat and looked up. There were shadows under his eyes, but relief relaxed him when his gaze moved over my face.

  “You’re feeling all right?”

  I nodded.

  He tapped his knuckles on the counter.

  “No memories coming back, anything like that?”

  The question came from kindness, but it still made me think of the pictures, and Maxim’s hands on my body.

  “Nothing new,” I said, straightening.

  “The doctor at the hospital said that might happen.” He exhaled. “Intimacy might trigger some memories.”

  I could tell this conversation was something he wasn’t entirely looking forward to, but when he reached for me, his grip was strong. It made me wonder if the clothes weren’t some kind of shield. A separation from what had just happened in the shower. Even if that was the case, he pulled me close and held me tightly against his chest.

  “If it does, we’ll get through it, okay?” His words may have been quiet, but they were fierce. “You can tell me.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed him in, letting the darkness slide away. After a moment he kissed the top of my head.

  “I did something you may not like.”

  I pulled back, wishing I had a harder boundary between us. Nothing good started with words like that.

  “And just when things were going so well,” I said.

 

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