The Silence That Speaks (Forensic Instincts 4)

“This isn’t about what I want. It’s about keeping you safe.”

“It’s about both.” Madeline walked over until she was standing right in front of him. “It’s about wanting to keep me safe, and it’s about wanting me.” She flattened her palms on his chest, easing them slowly up and down over the wool of his sweater. “I want you, too,” she whispered.

Marc made a strangled sound. He was fighting with all his emotional strength. But despite everything he was capable of, everything he’d been and done, he couldn’t fight these feelings. When Madeline tilted back her head and gazed up at him with those incredible eyes, he was lost.

Slowly he raised his arms and threaded his fingers through her hair. “Maddy,” he murmured. “Dammit, Maddy.”

He wasn’t sure who moved first. He only knew that Madeline was flush against his body, her arms wrapped around his neck, and that their mouths were fused, devouring each other’s. It was Maddy who backed them into her bedroom, Maddy who turned the lock. But it was Marc who pulled away long enough to strip her sweater over her head, unhook her bra and tug off the rest of her clothes.

She was as breathtaking as ever.

Madeline stood still for an instant and let Marc’s hungry gaze rake her. Then she walked over to the bed, slid between the sheets and reached out her hand. “Hurry.”

That’s all Marc had to hear. He was naked in under a minute and in her bed in less than that.

He groaned aloud at the feel of her body against his—it was like coming home and coming back to life all at once. He didn’t think, didn’t care, didn’t listen to the voice of reason in his head.

He just made love to her, caressing her skin, inhaling her fragrance. He kissed the fading bruises on her face and the dark splotches of purple on her ribs.

Madeline shivered with each touch, moaning aloud when they became more intimate. “I can’t wait,” she managed.

“Neither can I.” Marc eased his body over hers, careful not to give her his full weight. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“The only way you could hurt me is by stopping. Don’t.”

“I can’t,” he replied in a husky voice filled with desire. “It’s way too late for that.”

There were no more words, just the sound of their rough breathing as Marc eased himself between her thighs. He shuddered as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Okay?” he asked, needing to make sure she wasn’t in pain.

“No, not okay,” Madeline answered breathlessly. “Not yet.” Lifting her hips, she urged him inside her.

Marc lost it completely.

Pushing all the way in, he braced himself on his elbows, holding himself that way until the muscles in his arms were bulging. He gritted his teeth, felt sweat dripping down his spine and fought for control.

“No.” Madeline pulled at his biceps. “Let go. I want to feel all of you on me and in me.” Her arms and legs urged him down to her.

When Maddy began to shift under him, begging him to give her everything, Marc gave it up. He lowered his body onto hers, pushing even farther inside her. He savored the feel of her and started to move, slowly at first, and then faster, more urgently. Maddy arched into each thrust, moaning aloud and drawing him deeper and deeper inside her.

Time suspended as their bodies became one, moving in perfect unison.

Then the world blew apart, all in one exquisite, poignant moment.

Maddy came all around Marc, crying out his name and raking her fingernails down his back. He let out a guttural shout, grabbing hold of the headboard bars and pouring himself into her.

Time passed.

Then slowly,

gingerly, Marc released his death grip on the headboard and gave Maddy all his weight, pressing her into the mattress.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Madeline began to laugh. “That’s what you said the first time. History repeats itself.”

“In more ways than one.” Marc tried to move and failed. “I should get up. I’m probably hurting you.”