Possessed

by Stephanie Doyle

  Cass thought about the sports memorabilia in the great room and frowned slightly. She’d been so judgmental about his things and his need to surround himself with them that she hadn’t been able to take them at face value-as pieces of sports history that he enjoyed owning.

  Knowing that made the house and everything in it much less intimidating. It made him less intimidating, too. More real. More touchable.

  Abruptly, Cass pushed herself away from the table. She scooped up her bowl, rinsed it and dropped it in the dishwasher with a loud thunk as it slipped from her hand. Her back to him, she found a sponge and started absently wiping down the counter in front of her.

  “I’m really tired, what with everything that happened today. I’m sure you are, too. I’m going to go to bed now. Probably be out like a light in seconds.” Cass heard the rambling quality in her speech but couldn’t make herself stop. “You’ll want to close your door, though, in case the cats get in. They can be pretty nudgey in the morning when they want to be petted…”

  She felt his presence before she felt him. The barest touch of his chest against her back letting her know he was close without overwhelming her.

  “Don’t be afraid of this.”

  “I’m not,” she insisted. But it was a lie. There were so many things that scared her. Malcolm scared her.

  “But you are. You’re afraid of what’s happening between us and that’s okay. Fear is a part of life. It’s overcoming it that makes you brave.” He turned her so that she faced him and cupped her chin in his hand so that she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Be brave for me tonight, Cass. Be with me tonight.”

  The sponge dropped from her hand. She opened her mouth to answer him but before she could, his mouth descended on hers, taking her breath and her response with it.

  It would have been yes.

  Chapter 15

  They were standing in his master bedroom, a massive room done in masculine deep brown and beige colors. Although how they got there Cass couldn’t say. She remembered him kissing her. She remembered kissing him back. She remembered feeling like the more she wanted, the more she needed, and the more he gave. She remembered holding on to him and feeling her feet leave the ground and she remembered not being afraid.

  Be brave, he’d told her. She wasn’t sure that she could be, not in this. Maybe if she just let it be sex, then it would be okay. Yes, they had a connection. He’d mentioned it often enough, and though she’d never bothered to acknowledge it, she’d never made a point of denying it, either.

  She was a woman, after all, and he was handsome and strong. But gentle, too, in his way. He held her doors open and he loved his sister. He was a good man, but he was alone. Alone like her. And because he was, and because she was, and because they were attracted to each other, there was a connection.

  They could have sex, and it would satisfy the temporary hunger and when all was said and done, they could return to their respective corners. There was no lingering presence in her head to suggest that Lauren was a part of this, and so the morning-after-meaningless-sex hangover would be much less nasty than it had been with Dougie.

  Yes, she could do this. She could be brave enough to have this. But she wanted it fast and furious. Done and over and satisfied and back to their corners as quickly as possible.

  She reached for the belt at his waist and started to unfasten it.

  His lips, which had been grazing her neck just below her ear, lifted and he took a step back. He caught her hands in his and waited until she looked up from his waist, where she could see the faint outline of his erection against the fine fabric of his pants.

  “What?” she asked, not understanding why he had stopped. He wanted her. She could see it; if she could just reach out and touch him, she could break his control.

  “No, not that way,” he answered calmly.

  “Not what way?”

  “Your way. This isn’t going to be fast and over quickly.”

  She lifted her chin, ignoring the fact that this time he’d been the one to read her mind. “What if that’s how I like it?”

  He lowered his head until his lips barely brushed hers. “Then that’s how we’ll do it…next time. Turn around.”

  Cass hesitated, but the gentle push of his hand on her shoulder had her obeying. Suddenly the sense of being out of control mingled with the excitement of desire. Both overrode the fear of letting him get too close. She felt the slow, gentle tug of the zipper being pulled down her back.

  The dress he’d picked out was her standard all-purpose dress. Long-sleeved, knee-length with the barest scoop neck, it could appear elegant at a wedding or appropriate at a funeral. It had been the easy choice.

  The other choices he made had been slightly more startling. He’d picked a black lace thong instead of her more prevalent white cotton panties, and he’d picked a pair of thigh-highs that she had purchased months ago on a whim, which she’d never actually worn, rather than the single pair of black nylons she knew were in her underwear drawer inside her closet. The bra was a simple black garment-her only black bra-but it seemed boring in comparison.

  “Did you do it on purpose?” she asked as the zipper fell to her lower back, and she knew the lace along the top of her thong was revealed.

  He kissed a spot in the center of her back and she felt him smile against her skin. “You mean my choice of undergarments? Hell, yes.”

  His hands found her shoulders and he pushed the dress off one, then the other and let it slip down over her arms, her hips, until finally it pooled in a lifeless heap on the floor.

  “You’re beautiful.” Cass felt his hand slide from her bare shoulder to her nape, then a single finger traced her spine until the warm, heavy palm of his hand rested on her bare buttock.

  For a moment, she stood trembling. She couldn’t recall a time when she’d been studied like this. He’d left on the single lamp by his bed, which gave off more than enough light. He saw everything she had to offer and there was nowhere for her to hide. Dougie hadn’t been her first, but there hadn’t been many experiences besides that one. Most had been rushed and frenzied. This was anything but, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to withstand the tension Malcolm was building.

  Another gentle push and he had turned her to face him. Holding her hands, he helped her step out of the remains of the dress and then he led her to sit on the bed. It was huge and soft, and she felt herself sinking into it. She pulled her hands away and used them to brace herself.

  Malcolm stepped between her legs, which were still covered in black silk. She thought he might remove the delicate stockings, but instead he traced the length of her leg, down her thigh, under her knee, circling her ankle, until he popped off her very practical shoe. He repeated the process with the other leg, and it was all she could do to sit still while he performed the ritual again.

  “You are a contrast,” he said as he moved farther between her legs, making her spread them wide enough to accommodate him. “So small and delicate, but then I see your arms and they’re so sculpted. Your legs are so toned. And your belly…” He ran his hand over the flat skin that was stretched over firm muscle. His fingers brushed the top of the lace and lingered until she almost begged him to dip them farther below. “Softness over steel.”

  Since she was unable to form a truly coherent thought, the only thing that emerged from her dry throat was, “Yoga.”

  “And Pilates. I know.”

  He met her eyes and smiled. Truly smiled, maybe for the first time since she’d met him. It removed all the sharp edges from his face and made him seem younger. Lighter.

  Cass smiled back and he traced it with a finger. Then he was pushing her back onto the bed until she was in the center of it and he was over her. He lowered his head and kissed her like he had all the time in the world. His tongue ran along hers in a slow, leisurely manner, tasting, testing, sucking. Then he delved into her mouth with a steady, heady rhythm that gave her body a hint of what was to come. And the hint was so delicio
us, so tempting, she found herself arching against him, testing both his endurance and his will-power.

  He apparently had plenty of both.

  But when her hand searched for and found the outline of his straining erection, he was forced to pull back.

  “Not yet.”

  Cass almost screamed in frustration. She did in fact whimper.

  Malcolm merely smiled again. He moved off the bed and removed the tie he still wore that had already been loosened. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and stepped out of his shoes, throwing the clothes behind him in a careless fashion that suggested while he did possess expensive things, they weren’t overly important to him. Finally, he pulled off his undershirt and pushed down his pants and briefs. For a moment he stood in front of her and let her study him as he had studied her.

  He was beautiful, too. Built the way a man should be built, with heavy muscles, a defined chest and thick forearms that suggested years of conditioning. His thighs were equally strong. It was no wonder he was able to lift and carry her about as effortlessly as he did. His sex sprang up tall from a nest of dark blond curls, and for the first time, Cass was awed by the powerful sight of an aroused man. Her breath caught in her chest, and instinctively she used one of her hands to reach for him so she could touch him and feel all that pulsing power in her hand.

  But Malcolm shifted his hips and his erection out of reach. “No, I’m too close to the edge. It will be over…too soon. My way,” he reminded her, although she could see what it cost him.

  He leaned toward her and again turned her so this time she was lying on her belly in the center of the bed. She could feel the dip in the mattress as he climbed onto the bed with her and she waited for the next touch.

  “Do you know what I discovered about you?”

  “Mmm?”

  His lips found the base of her neck, a place she hadn’t realized was so sensitive. His tongue traced the line of her vertebrae, and then his teeth ever so gently bit down, making her neck arch much like her cats did when she found a particularly sensitive spot.

  “You work so hard not to touch people, but you love the sensation of touch. You love it.” He trailed kisses down her back and quickly dispensed with the unfastening of her bra so that he could continue his trail.

  “It’s there in the way you stroke the cats. The way your fingers run over the steel of a fork or the way they caress the surface of the glass in your hand. When I’m done with you, I’m going to love having your hands on me.”

  Cass would have told him she wanted to put her hands on him now, but the words got caught in her throat as his mouth pressed against the small of her back. He played there for a while, teasing the shallow dimples that framed her ass. The exquisite torture was like nothing she had ever known. She felt him pull the thong over her hips and down her legs, careful to leave the thigh-highs in place. Then he rolled off her and moved to sit up in the bed with his back propped against the pillows.

  “Come here. I want you this way.”

  She crawled up next to him, the loose bra falling from her shoulders and onto the bed, not that she noticed. Her hands reached out, seeking his leg this time, his hip, his chest, the nipples that were tight, the shallow of his ear. Yes, she thought. She did love to touch. And he was ultimately touchable.

  He helped her climb on top of him, with a silk-covered thigh on either side of his legs. He stroked the material and she watched his eyes linger on the sight of his fingers moving from her pale, creamy thigh to black silk to creamy skin again. “That is hot,” he muttered gutturally.

  Then his eyes moved to her breasts. She looked down with him and saw that while her breasts were small, merely a handful each, her nipples had never been harder or more pronounced. She watched as his hand moved up to cup them and the sensation was almost too intense. When his fingers tightened on one nipple, she felt it all the way down to the pit of her stomach.

  She sighed and he turned his attention to the other one. She knew that he was watching her face, and she could only imagine what he saw there, but she had no power to hide it.

  Then she felt his hand once more on her bottom, this time guiding her, moving her forward so that her knees were just about on either side of his waist, and when she lowered herself, she felt the brush of his cock against the center of her.

  He reached over her to one side of the bed. She heard the slide of the drawer and the crinkle of a packet and realized that the thought of protection hadn’t even entered her consciousness. Thankfully, it had entered his. But rather than don the condom, he placed it on the bed beside him.

  One hand stayed on her ass, the other cupped her chin so that she was forced to meet his very intense steel-blue gaze. “Just for a minute. I want to feel you without it. Okay?”

  Numbly, she nodded. She’d never done this without the barrier before. Even during the frenzied mating with Dougie she’d been aware enough to realize the necessity of a condom. This would be new.

  Guiding her, he lowered her until she felt the thick head of his erection probing between her slick folds. He slipped inside, and then pulled her knees farther up so that she naturally sank down on him, skewered, while he was slowly enveloped.

  His harsh breathing and her delicate sigh were the only two sounds in the quiet room. Then she slowly lifted herself up his body, barely holding him inside her, only to sink down again, squeezing herself around him as she did.

  “Yes,” he hissed, then repeated it as it seemed to be the only word left in his vocabulary. He held her in place and kissed her again. His tongue plunged deep and rough inside her mouth in a way he wouldn’t let his body duplicate. Instead, he remained still inside her, high and hard, pulsing but not moving. The sensation of connectivity was unlike any she had ever known with the living or with the dead.

  “Now,” he barked. With his hands wrapped around her waist, he lifted her until he was free from her body and she heard a small gasp escape his lips. With ruthless efficiency, he put the condom on and then quickly dragged her back over him and buried himself inside her as if each second apart from her had been torture.

  The barrier was mildly frustrating only because she preferred the intense heat of his skin inside her, but she dismissed it as unimportant to the pleasure she felt. This time, rather than concentrate on staying still, he thrust upward as she slid down. The rocking was intentionally slow and steady and deep, so deep. She could feel his erection inside her, the round head of it rubbing against a spot that brought a new burst of sensation each time he moved. He pushed harder into her and wrapped his arms like bands of steel around her back. In turn, Cass closed her arms around his neck and clung to him with all her strength, afraid that if she let go she might fall into some endless black hole.

  So tightly entwined, they could move only at the point where their bodies met. Malcolm began to snap his hips furiously, and the pressure was suddenly too much. She felt something shatter inside her and the rush of pleasure was so overwhelming, she feared she might faint. She closed her eyes and saw splashes of color and pinpricks of light. Her body stilled then but tightened even more around him so that her knees gripped his thighs, her arms closed around his back. Afraid of her reaction, she needed to cling to him for reassurance. But how was it possible to be afraid of something that felt so good? Her orgasm was like a heated wave crashing out to her limbs only to slowly recede, taking with it all of her strength, all of her reason and all of her resistance.

  In the end, her head fell limply against his shoulder. She felt the wetness on her cheek and knew what it was, but she was too spent to be embarrassed.

  “Shh, shh, don’t cry.”

  He must have felt the tears on his shoulder.

  They sat there for some time, each content not to move. It wasn’t until the sweat created by their activity started to cool and Cass’s legs began to ache that she felt compelled to move.

  “Wait.” Malcolm shifted her so that her legs came out from under her knees and circled his waist underneath the pillo
ws at his back. Then he lifted her off him and slipped out. Reaching for a tissue, he removed the condom and tossed it quite competently in the waste-basket situated against the nearest wall.

  “Nice shot,” she murmured against his neck.

  “I told you I liked sports. I’m best at football, but not half-bad at basketball.”

  She chuckled and the movement caused her body to jiggle against his. The matted hair on his chest, though damp, was still enough to tickle her breasts so much so that she reluctantly pulled away.

  “We’re a mess,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Yeah. Come on, we’ll shower.”

  She rolled off him and thought how easy it was to take his hand and let him lead her into the bathroom conveniently situated off the bedroom. It, like the rest of the house, was spacious and filled with all the conveniences. The oversize claw-footed bathtub, the centerpiece of the room, was especially impressive.

  “Do you ever actually use that?”

  “No,” he replied quickly. A little too quickly. She glanced at him now suspiciously. “Cats, pink and baths. I left one out.”

  He slapped her pert buttocks and pushed her into a shower that felt like it had fifteen showerheads. He washed her thoroughly, but not to arouse. He, however, was not unaffected when she returned the favor. She leaned into him and let her hand trail down to where he was once again hard and nearly scalding hot. He dropped his head back and let her tease for a few minutes, let her feel the size and the width of him, let her test the heaviness of his balls underneath until he once again twisted out of her reach.

  Taking her palm in his hand he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “You had a tough day and I can still see the bruises along your rib cage. If I take you again I might hurt you and I won’t do that.”

  “I don’t hurt now.”

  “Tomorrow you might. Come on, you need some sleep.” She felt much like an obedient child being led around by the hand by a parent as he escorted her out of the shower and took the time to dry her off with a fluffy brown towel. Back in his bedroom, he offered her one of his T-shirts, which she quickly accepted and then went about turning down the bed.