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The Fall of Shane MacKade (The MacKade Brothers 4)

Page 44

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She was writhing under him, wrestling over him, her hands fast and frantic. Those wonderful eyes, the eyes he could never quite seem to get out of his head, were dark as whiskey now, and vividly intense. Everywhere he touched, she responded as though she’d never been touched before. Shuddering, arching, flowing. A purr, a moan, a gasp.

No woman he’d ever known had ever made him feel so powerful, so free, so needy.

“Damn it.” Dizzy with desire, he sat up to drag at his boots. She reared up,

wrapping that wonderful naked body around his, making his vision waver as she raced hurried kisses over his neck and shoulder.

“Hurry.” She pulled up his undershirt and ravished his back. “Oh, I love your body. I just… Mmm…” She slid her breasts over the flesh she’d exposed and drove them both mad.

With an oath, he flipped her over into his lap. His mouth found hers waiting and avid. Her need, as wild as his, poured into him like a shot of raw whiskey.

To please them both, he cupped her, and she was hot and wet. He felt her body stiffen, tasted the warm rush of impact as her breath caught and expelled. She went wild, nails scraping, hips pumping, dazzling him with her unrestricted greed for pleasure.

“I’ve got to be inside you.” His voice was harsh, his body frantic. Near violence, he shoved her back on the bed, yanked at his jeans. He couldn’t remember his hands ever fumbling before, but they did now, in his outrageous and overwhelming rush to possess. “I want to fill you. I want to watch you take me.”

“Hurry.” Her hands were already gripping his hips. Oh, to feel like that again, to know he would send her flying again. “I can’t stand it.” She arched up to welcome.

He drove inside her, in one hard stroke. And froze. Shock, disbelief, terror, tangled with desperation when she cried out, when he felt himself ram mercilessly through her virginity. The muscles in his arms quivered from the strain, and his eyes, half-blind, locked frantically on hers.

“Rebecca. God. Don’t move.”

“What?” She was lost, delirious. Oh, the extraordinary feel of him inside her, inside her body, filling her with the sheer glory of invasion. “What?”

“For God’s sake, don’t move.” He said it through gritted teeth as he fumbled for control. His body quivered on the tether he yanked ruthlessly to hold it in place. Sweet God, she was so hot, and tight, and wet.

“I’m not going to hurt you anymore.” He couldn’t get his breath, simply couldn’t pull in enough air. “Just give me a minute.”

“What?” she said again. With a primal instinct, she locked her legs around him and rose up.

“Don’t—”

The animal took over, clawed aside everything but the urgent need to mate, and leaped free. Helpless to resist, he took her, plunging in deep, driving her to match his frenzied pace until the world seemed to contract to nothing but two bodies, linked. The hard slap of flesh on flesh, the explosive burst of air expelling from labored lungs, the musky smells of sweat and sex, and that glorious sensation of slicked bodies sliding. The dark pleasure swamped him, emptied him.

Weak, he collapsed on her and tried to gather his scattered wits. “I’m sorry” was all he could manage, and that was no more than a whisper. He had to move, knew he had to move, but he simply couldn’t. No experience in his life had ever sapped him like this.

He told himself it was because she had been innocent and the guilt was draining him.

She was shuddering beneath him, quick, violent shudders that damned him. He was mortally afraid she was crying.

“Rebecca, you should have told me.” There had to be some way he could soothe her, but this was simply beyond his experience.

“Told you?” she repeated, in a voice almost too faint to hear.

“I wouldn’t have pushed you. I wouldn’t have— Hell, I probably would have.” He found the strength to ease back and look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as the breath raced through them. “I hurt you. I must have hurt you.”

Her eyes opened then. The gold was hardly more than a thin ring around the pupils. Shock, he thought, cursing himself again. But, to his confusion, those swollen lips curved.

“No, you didn’t. It felt wonderful. I feel wonderful.”

“But…”

“Does it always feel like that?” She let out a long, satisfied sigh. “So overwhelming, so…huge, as if nothing could stop you from getting from one incredible moment to the next. It’s so…” She sighed again. “Primitive.”

“I— No— Yes.” What the hell was he supposed to say to that? To her? “I can’t think straight yet.”

Hearing that made her smile deepen. “I wasn’t sure I’d be any good at it, but I was. Wasn’t I?”

“You…” What the devil was going on? She wasn’t crying, she wasn’t upset at all. She looked like a cat who’d just dined on a platoon of canaries. More for his own benefit than for hers, he spoke slowly, carefully. “Rebecca, you’d never been with a man before.”



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