Page 16

He felt empowered, dangerously out of control. The dark thrill of possessing her tore through his body. He could have her right here. He wanted to drag her to the floor, rip the clothes off her body and just sink into her. But she deserved better.

With a supreme effort, he fisted his hands in her hair and tugged her head back to savage her mouth.

"I want more," he whispered thickly. "Give me more. I cannot stand not to have you. I want you on a bed. Now."

"There's--" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "My office."

"Then that's where this will happen. Show me."

"The door."

Dragging her towards it, he waited while she locked it and turned the sign. Sweeping her into his arms, he marched her around to the back where she pointed weakly to her office.

It was nothing more than a cot, but it would have to do, he decided.

His body was already shuddering from the tremendous need inside him for her.

Lowering her, he started with the zipper, which broke in his impatience to feel her flesh.

Pulling down the shoulders, he kissed her neck, his mouth sliding down her shoulders.

A murmur sounded deep inside his throat when he took in the scrap of ruby lace covering her small breasts.

Lifting her up, he suckled through the material, sending her into a spasm of pleasure that tore at her insides.

"I want you naked. Forgive me." She cried out in shock when he tore at the lace.

Shoving her back on the bed, he bent to take off her boots, running his hands over the silk stockings.

He got rid of those quickly, taking little time to admire her complexion.

Maxie braced back on her elbows, eyes slitted as she watched him lifting her left foot.

A shiver ran through her when he started at her toes, pulling them one by one into his mouth.

By the time he worked his way up to her inner thigh, she was delirious with need.

Her fingers clutched the simple cotton sheets, her breath heaving.

"Please."

He nibbled at her flesh, the musky scent of her driving him mad. When he kissed her through the lace, shock and pleasure went through her body like a lance.

"Kai. Now. Please. Oh God, I cannot-- Please. I cannot stand it."

"Not yet. I want you writhing and screaming out my name. I want you wild and out of control." His voice was rough, his fingers biting into her skin.

"You're not there yet. I want you to want me the way I want you." Pushing her back, he rose and practically tore off his clothes. His boots were toed off and kicked across the room.

She went faint at the first glimpse of the magnificent body. His muscles rippled, the skin of his flat stomach stretched taut. He had a tattoo, some Japanese symbols that meant nothing to her. And his lower body-- Good God, he was wonderfully proportioned and was going to hurt her.

Lowering himself, he started all over again, trailing kisses over her cheeks, lips and then her throat. His tongue circled the aching nipples slowly, torturously until she felt as if she was quietly going mad.

When he blew on the moist flesh, she arched, hands clutching at him.

Reaching between them, he pressed his palm to her sex and simply shattered her.

Her body twisted with the wave rising up inside her-- the incredible, wonderful wave that seemed to toss her all over.

Before she was fully recovered, he was hunkered between her legs, hands lifting her hips.

"I want the taste of you on my tongue." He nibbled at the swollen flesh until she thought she was about to explode. When his tongue plunged into her, she came again, body spasming-- arching towards him with a desperation that was mindless.

She was coated with sweat, her heart slamming against her ribs and tears streaming down her cheeks.

He was about to burst. Rising, he lowered himself and sank into her. When he met with resistance, his eyes flew to her face in dazed disbelief. "Maxie-- what the hell?"

"Don't stop," she begged, her fingers digging into his chest and tangling with the hairs there. "Please."

"Baby, you-- Christ Jesus!" he groaned, his body shuddering as her impossible tightness gripped him. "What does this mean? You haven't been with anyone else? If I did not know better, I would think you're still untouched."

Turning her head, she gazed over his shoulder. "Does it matter?"

Taking her chin between his fingers, he forced her to face him. "Why?" he demanded.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

She glared at him. "Okay, fine! I couldn't bear to be touched, not like that. Not after--" She bit her lip and jerked out of his hold.

"Good God," he whispered. "Oh baby, oh my sweet baby. What did I do?"

"Stop--" She gasped when he shoved into her deep enough to lodge himself to the hilt. The friction was so incredible that he felt as if he was being transported. Nothing in his life had ever felt this wonderful. His control shattered like thin, fragile glass.

"Hold on," he whispered thickly. "I'm sorry, darling." Lifting her legs and bending them at the knees, he drove into her with a force that shoved her towards the head of the bed.

She came again, her body arching under his, fingers clutching.

He watched her face, the parted lips, the eyes going blind and felt something tore inside his chest. This was what he had denied himself all those years ago.

What a fool he had been! Bending his head, he took her lips, swallowing her cries, his kisses bruising as he drove into her mindlessly.

He was an animal that had been taken off its protective leash.

Reason and sanity had deserted him. He who had always prided himself on having complete control was without an ounce of it now.

She destroyed him, shattered his composure until he was nothing but a rutting animal bedding his mate.

He wanted to swallow her whole. This could never be enough.

He was still hungry for her. The taste and feel of her wrapped around him was making him mad.

He wanted to tear at her, merge her body with his and never let her go.

When the climax started, he felt it in his entire body and soul.

It started at the top of his head down to the tips of his toes, shimmering inside his body like an electric bolt.

The storm raged through him, causing him to thrust even more.

When it broke, he was the one crying out her name and shuddering on top of her.

He collapsed on top of her weakly, his heart almost bursting through his chest. It took him a few minutes to wonder if he was crushing her with his weight.

Even so, he did not want to break the intimate contact.

Lifting his head, he stared at her, eyes glinting as he took in the swollen lips and thick tangled hair spread over the plain cotton.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." She pushed at him. "It's late--"

"Oh no," he shook his head. Easing to the side, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her anchored to him. "Please look at me," he pleaded quietly. When she did, he traced the moisture on her cheek. "I am your only."

"It's not a big deal. It's not like I was waiting for you or anything like that. It simply means that I-- Oh! It means nothing." Her voice had a defiant ring to it.

"It means everything." He cradled her face. "It means that I will spend my life trying to make up for the hurt I caused you."

He pulled her closer, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her bare shoulder as he watched the rise and fall of her breathing. The silence was heavy with unspoken words, yet neither dared to break it. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, trembling on the edge of vulnerability.

"Maxie, I won't let you go-- not ever. You are mine, and I am yours. No matter what has happened before, no matter what you think you've done to push me away, I'll prove to you that we belong together."

She stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of insincerity. What she saw was raw, unwavering determination, and something else she hadn't expected-- fear. The kind of fear that comes with realizing just how much someone matters, how easily they could be lost.

Her heart clenched, a battle waging inside her. She wanted to believe him, to let the walls she had painstakingly built crumble in his presence. But trust was not something she gave easily, and the scars she bore-- both visible and hidden-- would not fade overnight.

"Don't promise me things you can't keep," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotion.

"I don't make promises lightly," he responded, his tone resolute. "And when I do, I make damn sure to keep them."

"I can't do this." She tried shoving at him again, but he held on tight. "I need to think."

"Think about this." Before she could evade him, he brought her face around and covered her mouth with his.

Her struggling ceased as she melted against him, the kiss spinning her out and making her hungry for more.

He had always been able to do this to her.

And she accepted that with bitter defeat.

She wanted him, wanting him was like a fever inside her that refused to be cooled.

She just did not know what to do with that knowledge and could not think, not while he was kissing her.

When he placed his palm over her intimately, she felt the desire trembling through her body again. It was incredible, this passion between them.

"More," he whispered hoarsely. Lifting her, he placed her squarely on top of him, chuckling when her eyes widened. The laughter turned to a groan when her tightness encompassed him and took him in completely.