She cried out, breaking her silence, but he allowed it. She was already lost in her desire. Those breathy, uncontrolled sounds she made, probably without even realizing it, fueled his arousal.
* * *
He did such wonderful things with that glorious tongue. He licked. He suckled. He nipped and pulled, circled and teased, pushing her to the edge before falling back again. He did this several times before she registered the slightest pressure of his fingers in the cleft of her behind.
He was spreading something cool there. Something cool and slick. She tried to focus on what he was doing, but it was impossible when there was so much going on elsewhere. His broad shoulders pushed against her inner thighs, forcing them to stay wide and open when all she wanted to do was squeeze them tightly together. One hand caressed her breasts, plucking one nipple, then the other. Then both nipples were being pinched at the same time, but that was impossible, because his other hand was working her sex now, his thumb penetrating her there while another, longer finger stroked teasingly farther back...
But she couldn’t think about that now, because that wasn’t his finger edging into her back there anymore. It couldn’t be. It felt different. Bigger. Thicker. Tapered and smooth. It felt wrong, and exquisitely right, all at the same time. The pressure there, it was doing things to her, things she couldn’t control, things she didn’t want to control.
“It’s okay, Mary,” Aidan breathed. “Relax. I’ve got you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
Did she want this? The answer was a resounding YES!
More importantly, she needed. What exactly she needed, she didn’t know. But Aidan did. She began to beg, to sob, to plead for him to do something – anything – to stop the agony, the ecstasy.
And then she felt him, thick and rigid, pushing against her entrance. He moved slowly, stretching her one tiny centimeter at a time, taking a full minute before he managed to insert just his swollen tip into her. It was tight, so much tighter with the slight pressure from the back, and the constant pinch at her nipples.
“You okay, baby?” he asked quietly.
“More,” she rasped, realizing that her voice was nearly gone now. Had she been screaming? “More, please, more, yes, Aidan, please, more...”
* * *
It broke something inside of him. Even his beast was moved by her heartfelt pleas. Needing to feel her touch, he released her from the cuffs. Mary took immediate advantage, wrapping her arms around him. With one sudden thrust of his hips, he buried himself deep inside her. She wept in relief, begging him to take pity on her, scoring his back with her nails.
Aidan moved within her. He pulled out until nothing but the tip remained at the very rim of her entrance, then slammed into her. Again. And again. Until it was no longer an exercise in sexual dominance or a game of seduction, but a need so deep it surpassed anything he’d ever felt before.
His strokes became smoother, metered, angled for maximum pleasure. It only took a few before he found himself teetering on the edge.
He was so close. So was she. He should pull out and finish her off with his fingers, but then he would miss the feel of what was sure to be the most earth-shattering orgasm he’d ever felt.
And then he realized he didn’t have to. There was no reason to. Mary belonged to him. She was his.
The beast roared in agreement. Mark her, it said. Claim her. Make her ours forever...
Aidan increased the speed and intensity of his strokes. He felt her whole body tense, felt her sheath began to close around him convulsively. Squeezing. Rippling. Stroking him until he exploded.
The first jet shot inside her even as he continued to move, desperate to prolong her orgasm and his. It was incredible. To feel the heat spreading around him with each pulse, the knowledge that he was coming inside her, spilling himself into her, giving himself to her in a way he had never given himself to another.
When she had milked every last drop from him, he collapsed to the side.
* * *
Mary was only vaguely aware of the pressure easing from her breasts, the fullness leaving her backside. All she knew was that Aidan’s warm naked body was pulling her closer.
She had nothing left. No strength. No will. And not enough energy to even care. Secure in the knowledge that he would care for her, she snuggled against him and breathed a sigh of profound relief.
* * *
Something epic had happened, he realized, as he looked down at her face in the near darkness, so soft and youthful in slumber. He had pushed her too hard. Taken it too far. Crossed lines he never should have crossed.
But he didn’t regret it.
Because he now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that a croie had been created for him and him alone.
His perfect mate.
The other half of his soul.
Chapter Eleven
Now that he’d consciously accepted what he suspected some part of him had known since New Year’s Eve, it was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. There was no more doubt, no more worrying or wondering if he would ever find a woman capable of satisfying all of his needs.
Mary was genuinely kind and compassionate. She owned her own business and was a valued member of a small and close-knit community. More than capable of caring for herself, she allowed him to care for her without being needy or clingy. And even though she had the sub thing down, she liked to take control once in a while, too, as her little surprise on the drive last night proved.
Most importantly, she did all this without knowledge of his wealth and power.
That would change soon enough. Convinced as he was of her sincerity, he no longer had any wish to keep such things from her. On the contrary, he was very much looking forward to showing her just how much better her life was going to be soon.
Mary sighed softly, but she did not wake. As much as he wanted to take her again, he would let her sleep a little longer. She had earned an extra bit of pampering.
He eased himself from her bed, being careful not to wake her. She frowned in her sleep at the lack of contact, making him smile.
Max was waiting in the hallway. He greeted Aidan as if he emerged from his mistress’s bedroom every morning.
“Mary’s still sleeping,” Aidan said quietly when Max kept looking at the door. “What do you say you and I make her breakfast?”
Aidan started to chastise himself for talking to the dog as if he was a person, but then stopped when Max seemed to think about it for a minute, then gave him a big doggie grin.
They padded into the kitchen together. Max went right over to his dish, picked it up in his teeth, and brought it over to Aidan. Aidan stared down at him in disbelief, then took the bowl from him. Max moved over and stood in front of one cupboard in particular, nosing the knob. Guessing at what he would find there, Aidan followed him and opened the door. Yep. Dog food.
Shaking his head, he filled Max’s bowl and got him some fresh water. He’d always thought caring for a pet would be a pain in the ass, but he found he actually kind of enjoyed this.
“I don’t suppose you know where she keeps the coffee, do you?” he asked, only half-jokingly. Max tilted his head and regarded him. If he knew, he wasn’t telling.
As it turned out, the coffee was in a canister (helpfully labeled “coffee”) right near the coffee maker, which was an old-fashioned percolator. He’d never actually used one before, but he figured the CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation should be able to figure it out. It took a great deal longer than he would have liked (he really should have paid more attention when taking out the innards), but eventually he got it.
Resisting the urge to thump his chest in victory, he began a methodical search for mugs, sugar, and maybe a box of cereal. Still riding high on the success of figuring out the whole coffee thing, he briefly considered attempting scrambled eggs, but there was no sense getting crazy.
Soon the rich smell of brewing coffee filled the kitchen. Max nosed the string of little
bells hanging from the back door. Aidan guessed that was a polite way of asking to be let out, so he opened the door. Before he could close it again, he saw an older woman from the house next door openly gaping at him. Wearing only a pair of unbuttoned jeans riding low on his slim hips, Aidan took great delight in offering her a huge smile and a cheery wave. No doubt Mary would pay the price for that later, but he’d find some way to make it up to her.
Even more pleased with himself, Aidan resumed his quest for carb-laden sustenance. By the time he’d worked his way half way around the kitchen, he wondered if maybe Mary didn’t even eat cereal.
Success! He finally found several boxes tucked away in the lazy-Susan shelves in the corner cabinet. Count Chocula, Reese’s PB Puffs, and Lucky Charms. He grinned. He should have known his croie would have a sweet tooth.
Unable to choose just one, he grabbed all three boxes with the intention of mixing them together, going on the assumption that if one tasted good, all three together would be even better. (There was a reason why Lexi was very adamant about Aidan handling the business side of things and letting her oversee the menu).
As he swiveled the tray back into place, his eye caught the corner of a white satin box. It was not on one of the shelves, but shoved far into the back, probably from the adjoining cabinet. Intrigued, he pulled it out.
In the bright sunlight, Aidan could see that the white satin had yellowed somewhat. There was a fine layer of dust across the top, too, making the faux pearls and ribbons adorning it look like they had been sprinkled with extra-fine confectioner’s sugar.
Aidan recognized it as a memory box; Lexi used to keep something similar. Every time they visited a new country, she’d slip some small token inside. Then, once in a while she would take it out and they would laugh and remember all the places they’d been, the things they’d seen and done together.
So why would Mary hide something like this back in the far reaches of her cupboard? Wouldn’t she keep it somewhere where she could add to it? Or take it out and sift through it?
Aidan sat the box on the table, curious but reluctant to open it.
Instead, he fixed himself a bowl of cereal (all three really did go well together) and ate it standing up, leaning against the counter and staring at the box as if it might suddenly grow teeth and snarl at him. When he was finished, he rinsed out the bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
Aidan let Max in and gave him a treat from the cookie jar sporting a big ceramic Milk Bone. Then he poured another cup of coffee, sat down at the table, and stared at the box some more.
A sense of foreboding settled heavily on his shoulders. He shouldn’t even be thinking of opening it. It was Mary’s, and it was private. And there had to be a very good reason why she had hidden it as she had.
But he had already accepted the fact that she was his. Yes, it was quick, but if he had learned anything over the past several years, it was that when something was right, it was right. Delaying the inevitable would only create the opportunity for problems to arise.
Hell, he had the proposal all worked out in his mind – well, the main parts anyway. Valentine’s Day was just around the corner, and that’s when he would present her with the best diamond he could find and ask her officially to become his wife.
A man should know his wife, shouldn’t he? Especially a man in his position where even the slightest hint of scandal would make the front pages. Not that he believed Mary had done anything scandalous, really. But he still wanted to know what was in that box.
The urge to look continued to grow until he could stand it no more.
He lifted the lid and stared down, inhaling sharply...
* * *
Mary woke up feeling deliciously sore. Stretching, she reached across the bed, only to find herself alone. She buried her face in the pillow, delighted to smell Aidan’s scent. She wouldn’t be throwing that in the wash anytime soon.
His black bag was still there, so he probably was, too. That thought pleased her greatly. Given that Max wasn’t whimpering or pawing at the door, Aidan had probably already seen to his breakfast and morning needs. Which meant that she could take a few minutes to see to her own.
A towel had been spread out along the counter. Mary stared down at the unfamiliar objects, her heart speeding up and her eyes widening as she realized that these had probably been the things Aidan had used on her last night. Apparently he’d taken care of cleaning them this morning (that thought made her feel better about it) and had left them out to air dry.
She reached out, but pulled her hand back before she actually touched them; she wasn’t quite ready to do that yet. It was one thing when Aidan was in charge, when she was blindfolded and deep in the throes of passion, but it was morning now. Bright light came in through the frosted glass, and that put everything in a different perspective altogether.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and managed to get her hair relatively tamed. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she had to blink several times. The woman who stared back looked so different. Her skin glowed with radiance and her eyes sparkled. For the first time in her life, Mary thought she actually looked pretty.
She looked like a woman in love. Is that what she was?
The thought wasn’t nearly as scary as it might have been, but it did come as a bit of a surprise. After Cam, she didn’t think she’d ever let herself get close to another man again. But then Aidan had come into her life and changed all of that.
Pulling on her microfiber robe (not sexy by any means, but very comfortable), she set off in search of the man who had turned her into such a lovesick, shameless wanton.
She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the butcher-block table. Spread out over the top were a series of pictures and small mementos. He was fingering something in his right hand when his eyes met hers.
Mary’s grin faded instantly when she realized what he had found. “What are you doing with those?” she demanded, rushing over to the table. She hastily gathered the items and shoved them back into the box. Aidan said nothing, nor did he try to stop her.
When she went to close the lid, he extended his hand and opened his palm, revealing what he had been holding: two gold wedding bands and a tiny diamond engagement ring.
Mary snatched them from his palm and threw them in the box, closing the lid and securing it while moisture prickled behind her eyes.
Aidan watched her closely, his face unreadable. “You were married?” he said, his voice too neutral, too unaffected to be anything good.
“Obviously,” she snapped, mad at herself for crying. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Was it because Aidan discovered she’d been married? Because seeing all those things brought back memories of pain and anguish? Or because the look in Aidan’s eyes was as cold as she had ever seen? There was no trace of the attentive lover in him now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was so empty, so devoid of emotion that it scared her.
“You didn’t ask.”
His face hardened, the expressionless mask making him look like some ancient statue of a Greek god. His body was still. Too still. Only his eyes moved as Mary stalked across the room, tossed the keepsake back into the cupboard and grabbed angrily at the box of tissues. Why wouldn’t the damn tears stop?
And what kind of man rummaged through her cabinets and took it upon himself to open something so obviously personal? She might have given herself to him in heart and body, but that didn’t give him the right to invade her privacy without permission.
“What happened?” he asked in that cold, emotionless voice.
“Does it matter?” she asked, her words somewhat muted by the tissues.
His eyes flashed once, then went cold again. “No.”
He got up and walked out of the kitchen. Mary sank down at the table and dropped her head into her hands. How had things gone downhill so quickly?
She took a deep breath. She had overreacted. Sure, it had been a shock to find Aidan looking through h
er things, but in a way, having him find out about Cam was kind of a relief, too. They’d have to have a talk about personal space and boundaries if they were going to continue to see each other, though.
She was still sitting there when he returned a few minutes later, fully dressed, and grabbed for his coat. “You’re leaving?” she asked, sniffling.
“Obviously.”
He walked over to the door that led to the garage. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. Without turning around, he said, “I’ll have someone drop your Jeep off later.”
And then he was gone, leaving her staring in disbelief.
“Mary? This is Angela at Dr. Whitney’s office. The doctor would like you to come in for another mammogram.”
Mary gripped the receiver a little tighter. It was noon and she was still in her pajamas, having taken her first sick day in five years. She hadn’t left the house the last two days, except to take care of the most necessary of things. She’d hoped that after he had some time to cool-off, Aidan would come back and they could work through things, get everything out in the open.
“Why?”
A hesitant pause. “I really don’t know the specifics, only that she’d like you to come back in. I can squeeze you in at two. Can you get here by then?”
Cold dread dropped into the pit of her stomach. “That soon?”
“Yes. Dr. Whitney would like to see you today.”
“Uh, sure. Two o’clock, you said?”
“Yes. We’ll see you then.”
Mary continued to hold the phone until the annoying busy-tone signal managed to cut through her fog. What could possibly be so urgent? The women’s health center over in Pine Ridge was usually so busy, she had to schedule her exams a minimum of six months in advance. The fact that they were squeezing her in so quickly could not be a good sign.
Feeling rather numb, she forced herself to get up and grab a quick shower. Donning a comfortable pair of jeans and a hoodie, she slipped on her sneakers and climbed into her Jeep.
She wasn’t sure when it had been delivered or by whom, only that when she pulled herself out of bed on Sunday morning her Jeep had been sitting in her driveway, right in front of the garage. The keys had been left under the doormat on her front porch; there was no note or anything else left with them.
Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8 Page 12
