“Be sure you want this.” A muscle jumped in his jaw and he looked so forbidding, so hard, so damned, dangerously handsome it made her loins weep. “Be really sure, Maddy.”
“You won’t hurt me.” The words slipped out before she realised it, and she didn’t know if she was reassuring him or herself.
There was a flicker in his eyes, a slight softening, and she was suddenly frightened that he’d stop, that he was coming to his senses, and she so didn’t want that to happen. She wanted him, his strength, his body; she wanted Mike so badly that she had to make him stay.
“Take me,” she said, making her voice stronger, hiding her fear. “Take me, Mike. Take me if you really want me.”
“Maddy-”
“If you don’t want me-”She didn’t have time to finish the sentence.
He took her mouth ruthlessly, kissing deep, taking from her. Releasing her chin, he kept her head titled back by the force of his kiss. His hands swept beneath her shirt, his hands against her skin as he swept them up to lie between her breasts. Hooking his fingers into her bra front, he found the clasp unerringly, opening it to release her breasts into - oh God, finally! Finally his hands, so hard and capable, so big, so strong, were against her flesh, cupping her breasts, pressing and kneading them, exploring, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched.
It was almost too much and she moaned into his mouth, her hand at his nape clenching, wanting this moment to last but knowing it wasn’t going to, not when the heat was coiling through her like a carnal entity waiting to strike hard and fast.
Her breath wasn’t the only one sounding raggedly in the room.
Mike ate at her mouth even as he explored her breasts in hard, quick motions that didn’t hurt but let her know the strength in his hands. Her name was a ragged word on his lips and his hips thrust against her, his shaft an unyielding brand behind the confines of his pants.
“Jesus, Maddy,” he swore harshly against her mouth. “I hope you know what you’re doing, what you’re asking.”
Caught up in a tide of concupiscence, she couldn’t answer. She ate at his mouth as he did at hers. She felt every solid contour of his body and every swell of his muscles pressed against her back and bottom, his muscular thighs against her softer ones, and she gloried in actually being smaller, feeling smaller, for once feeling like a desirable woman.
A chill around her legs and she realised that his hands had left her breasts to grab onto her skirt on each side of her and raise it, going higher and higher, and she was so far gone in ardour that she couldn’t even think about her dimpled thighs, her overly-generous curves, her plus-sized body bared to the gaze of this dangerously handsome man with a body that many of the male species envied, and after which most of the female species lusted.
Right this minute there was just her, Mike, and this ravenous heat between them.
Dimly she heard the snap of the elastic of her panties and the knowledge that he’d torn them away only made her crave more, so much more, and then his hand was there, the big palm rough against her sensitive flesh, brushing across her mound before his hand was suddenly on her belly, his hard thigh pushing between hers, and he was bending her over the table.
Instinctively she braced her hands on the wooden surface and arched back, not wanting to lose contact with him for even a second, and his growl of approval as the action thrust her bottom into him reverberated through his chest and into her back, shaking her to her core.
“Please, Mike, please, please,” she begged huskily.
Need filled her, heat washed her veins, desire dampened her. The sensations sliding through her like carnal silk had her begging without shame, her desire plain in her voice, pure sexual heat throbbing in the depths of her and spilling out into her words.
There was a touch of skin against her naked buttocks, a calloused palm running down the swells to slide between the crease of her buttocks and lower, and then his long finger touched her, nearly shattering her control as he tested her for readiness.
His touch disappeared and she almost sobbed in frustration. A surprisingly gentle caress on her bottom, a soothing sweep of his hand on the small of her back, a rasp of a zipper, the rustle of clothing, and then the naked skin of his thighs touched hers. His arm slid around her waist, titling her hips up higher, and he was there, his shaft so hot, so silken, so damned hard it made her want to scream in frustration when he didn’t immediately push inside her.
Mike’s chest was against her back, she registered the feel of his shirt, and he curved over her almost protectively. “Are you sure, Maddy?” His words were hot against her cheek.
“Yes.” She could barely choke the word out.
“Really sure?”
Every shred of pride had long since disappeared behind a wave of reckless desire. “Oh God, Mike, please. Take me. Just take me.”
Two big hands abruptly slammed down each side of her own, hard thighs invaded her space fully, and the heat of his body over hers was both alarming and delicious. His hips moved, flexed, and then his shaft was there, the engorged tip almost like a hot, wet brand against her opening.
The instinct to push back didn’t have a chance to materialize as one hard thrust had his staff shoving deep inside her, so deep inside she gave a muffled scream of pure, unadulterated desire.
Mike didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate. His hips continued to thrust, each movement fast and inflexible. He rode her with unyielding dominance, setting the pace, his bigger body controlling her movements, keeping her at his mercy as he pounded into her harder, thrust faster, giving her no time to catch her breath but driving her onward and upward, every thrust making the fires inside her burn hotter, fiercer.
His position and bigger body made it easy for him to place his mouth at her ear, his breaths ragged and hot against her sensitive skin, and his growled words shivered through her. “You’re going to damned well remember that it was me who took you, Maddy. You are never escaping that.” On the table she saw the tendons stand out in his hands, his muscles bunching as he took his weight, as his own desire rode him as hard as he rode her. But still he was able to almost snarl, “Say my name, Maddy.” When she didn’t immediately obey, he demanded, “Say it!”
“Mike.” His name was a ragged burst from her lips, ending on a moan as he shoved impossibly deeper inside her.
“Maddy.” One word from him, her name on his lips, and she felt it burn right into her heart as surely as the seed leaking from his shaft burned her sheath.
The urgency built between them, she could feel the tension in his body as he moved against her, and then he removed one hand from the table to splay across her abdomen, pulling her tight against him as he pounded into her.
The sensation of his fingers biting into her flesh was almost her undoing, the knowledge that he was controlling their coming orgasm, but it was the hot, open-mouthed kiss he suddenly placed on her nape that tipped her over the edge, that and the sudden change in position as he deliberately dropped his hand a little, the movement tilting her pelvis slightly, and his thick shaft nudged something deep inside her.
The sensation was unbelievable, shattering, and she tipped over the erotic edge of prurience with a cry, arching and pushing back into the heated thrusts that claimed her, and just before she was swept away she felt Mike stiffen, felt his shaft deep inside her jerk, and the flush of his heated seed that he poured deep, deep into her body, coating her sheath and marking her. And his arms wrapped around her snugly, securely, holding her as they were both lost to Eros.
Floating back down to delicious consciousness, Maddy was dreamily aware that she was resting on her forearms on the table, her forehead on the back of her hand.
She was surrounded by the heat of Mike’s body. Behind, above and over her, he seemed to shelter her from everything. Turning her head a little, she saw that he, too, was leaning on his forearm, his bicep bulging as it took his weight. The band of his other arm was on the table beneath her, her soft abdomen was resting on it. His h
and curved up and around her hip on the opposite side, something she’d never imagined any man could do, but then again he was an extremely tall man with the apportioned body parts - arms, legs, torso and - oh God, he was cupped against her so close that he was still sheathed inside her. The heat of his body against her was delicious, his shaft inside her titillating, and his breath on the side of her neck was moist and made her more than aware of their position.
And the fact that she’d begged him, pushed him, made him angry enough to have sex with her…Oh God, I am such a loser! Such a fat, pathetic loser!
Mike shifted slightly, bracing himself on his palm and pushing upwards, his other hand gliding across her belly. “Maddy?”
“Let me up.” She was going to die. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she do this every time she was with him?
He pulled back, his shaft slipping free and making both their breaths catch, but he didn’t reach for her, instead he shifted back a few steps.
She straightened, more than conscious of her generous backside naked to his view, her thighs bare to his sight, and she shrank inside. Oh God, what had she done? What must he think of her?
“Are you all right?” The words were accompanied by the sound of his zipper.
“Yes.” Head bent, she bit her lip as she shoved her skirt back down, grateful for the sheltering material as it hid her curves. Hands fumbling, she sought to redo the clasp on her bra, only to stiffen when muscular arms came each side of her and big hands easily caught the sides of her bra.
In a gentle movement, her breasts were scooped effortlessly into the lacy cups and the clasp edges were brought together.
So mortified she wanted to die, Maddy laid her hands atop his. “I can do this.”
“But I want to.” His warmth was again at her back and she could feel every hard line of his body against hers as he looked down over her shoulder while refastening her bra.
Once he was done, she quickly jerked her shirt down, but even covered she felt naked. Humiliated. She loathed herself so much in that moment that she wanted to find a large hole, dive inside and pull the lot down on top of her. She wanted to bury herself so far down that she’d never again have to face him.
That thought was uppermost in her mind and she moved to the side, her head turned away, refusing to look at him.
“Maddy.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
His hand was on her arm, turning her to face him. She couldn’t look at him, keeping her head bent.
“Maddy.”
God, her name sounded so good on his tongue, his deep rumble seeming to stroke over the syllables, and it only made her throat ache as she tried to swallow past the sudden lump that appeared. She wasn’t going to make any more of a fool of herself than she already had by crying. “I need to go.”
One big hand cupped her cheek, the palm rough against her skin, and a calloused thumb slid beneath her chin to gently tip back her head.
It took all her courage to meet those pale blue eyes in Mike’s dangerously handsome face. She expected to see pity, maybe a little derision and self-disgust towards himself, but the tenderness in his expression was so unexpected that it brought her erratic emotions surging together into one big, miserable heap.
She burst into tears.
Oh great, the ultimate degradation.
Strong arms surrounded her, Mike’s big hand sliding around to cup the back of her head as he drew her to him, his other arm around her waist. He simply held her against him as she sobbed into his shirt, her cheek against the firm yet comforting swell of his chest.
Maddy cried like a baby, every bit of misery of the last few days, every turbulent emotion and humiliating experience washing to the fore and pouring out of her. She tried to stop crying, tried to gulp in the sobs, but Mike simply started to rock her gently, his voice a deep, familiar, welcome rumble in her ear. “Let it out, baby, just let it all out.” And then he said the words that etched themselves forever into her heart. “I’m here for you.”
And she cried harder, her fingers clenching into the front of his shirt as she leaned into him, allowing, for the first time in her life, a man to take control while she was so vulnerable.
He rested his cheek atop her head and stroked his hand slowly and soothingly over her hair, letting her cry and cradling her in his arms in a hold that was both gentle and reassuring at the same time.
It was several minutes before she could get the sobs under control and by the time she was down to sniffling only she felt wrung out. If it wasn’t for Mike holding her up, she was sure she’d have fallen to her knees long ago.
Quietly, he smoothed the hair back from her damp cheek. Closing her eyes, she just relaxed against him for several minutes while she got her emotions under control, which wasn’t easy when she was still disgusted and ashamed with herself.
Now she had the problem of getting away from him and out of his house. She was going to sell her duplex, take her cat, and run as far and as fast as she could away from Mike. God, how could she possibly face him after this? How much more could she screw up her life?
When had it mattered so much?
When had she turned into such a nymphomaniac around a man?
It surprised her when Mike moved, his hand at the back of her waist as he steered her over to the kitchen bench. The box of tissues was situated right beside the containers of baked goods she’d brought over. He plucked several tissues from the box and pressed them into her hand.
“No amount of baking is going to make up for this,” Maddy choked out without thought.
Mike’s laughter was low and amused. He still had his arm around her, his hand at the small of her back, and she didn’t want him to move away while at the same time, perversely, she wanted him to storm out of the room so she could slink away without him watching her.
After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, she tossed the tissues into the small bin beside the bench, took a deep breath and turned to face him, only she wasn’t courageous enough to actually look him in the eye, so she settled for staring at the wet patch on his shirt caused by her bout of bawling. “I’m so sorry, Mike. This won’t happen again. I could - oh shit, Mike, I am so sorry.” All courage fled and she turned and walked quickly from the room.
She’d just gotten into the hallway when his hand caught hers and swung her around. Startled, she looked up to see him gazing down at her with purpose hardening his jaw and a mixture of concern and determination in his pale blue eyes.
“Oh, no.” Mike turned and started striding back down the hallway, towing her behind him. “Not this time, Maddy. This time we do it my way.”
“What?” His way? What the heck was his way? Did he mean sex? Bewildered, she could do nothing but follow him with her hand caught in his firm grasp.
Turning into the lounge room, he led her over to the sofa. “We’re talking.”
“Talking?” She couldn’t believe it.
“Yep.” In one easy move he used her momentum to whirl her around and dump her on the sofa, dropping down swiftly beside her and putting his arm around her shoulders to haul her up against him. “We’re talking.”
Stunned by the unexpected turn of events, Maddy could only lean stiffly against the big body beside her and stare at the coffee table. She couldn’t seem to get a clear thought in her head. It took her several seconds to actually manage to say, “Are you kidding me?”
“I never kid about talking. And baby, we are long overdue for a talk.”
She watched in disbelief as he toed off his boots and stretched his long legs out to rest his sock-clad heels on the coffee table. Lifting one big foot briefly, he crossed his ankles, gave a sigh of pleasure, and she actually felt him snuggle down in the sofa and take her with him.
Normally men dipped towards her when she sat down, but due to Mike’s tall, muscular, and heavier body, she dipped down towards him, which meant that for the first time in her life she was actually leaning against a man and it wasn’t by acciden
t.
Mike adjusted his arm so that she ended up cuddled against his side. Resting his arm along the back of her shoulders, he idly stroked his fingers against the material of her t-shirt. “That’s better,” he said. “Much cosier.”
Her heart pounded a little. The heat of his body was filtering through her side and warming her. She was so intensely aware of him, and not just because of the memory of him taking her with such dominance. No, there was his masculine scent, clean and male and so him, a hint of leather and male cologne. There was his strength, his quiet control, his determination. His gentleness. His way of simply relaxing and making her feel strangely comfortable after the most mind-blowing episode of her life.
His simple acceptance of everything made her relax, but only a little. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him and she could only gaze at his big feet in silence.
This had to be one of the weirdest moments of her life.
“I think I should go home,” she finally whispered.
“Nope.” He wiggled his toes.
“You must be the only man in the world who’d want to talk about…it.”
“The sex?” He was as blunt as always and she cringed inside. “I want to talk about more than just the sex, but we’ll get that out of the way first, if you like.”
Out of the way. She cringed even more.
“Did I hurt you?” He didn’t stop stroking her shoulder, nor did he shift to look at her.
“No.”
“Was it so disappointing or bad that you had to cry?”
“What? No!” Astounded, she turned her head to stare up at him but as soon as he dropped his gaze to meet her eyes, she flushed and again looked away. “No, it was - was…incredible.” Heat seared her cheeks.
“Was I too rough?”
“Um…do we really have to talk about this?”
“Yep.”
“You have strong female traits. Does that worry you?”
“Nope. Was I too rough?”
“No.” Closing her eyes, she sighed inwardly. She had already humiliated herself, so she might as well go the whole way. “It was rough, but in a good way.”
Cop's Passion Page 12
