Reclaimed

“I understand.” She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Elijah has to stay away. Surely he sees it now?”

“I hope so.” He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at her in determination.

She shifted on her feet, uneasy at the scrutiny. Now that the urgency of finding out what had been going on was gone, she remembered all too well why she had kicked him out earlier. “Well, maybe you should get going.”

“Sabrina—” he pleaded.

“What, Isaac? What more could you have to say to me? I’m certain it won’t change my mind.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I fucked up. Can’t you forgive me? Give me another chance?”

Put so prettily, it seemed hard to say no. But she didn’t want to give in yet. He’d been wrong, and he damn well should suffer for a bit before she forgave him. “Maybe someday. But not now.” She shook her head and tried to pull away from him. “I need time. And I think you do, too.”

“No,” he insisted. He yanked her toward him and stared intently into her eyes. “Time away from you is never a good thing. I need you,” he whispered.

Oh, God, he’d pulled out all his cards now. She’d always been a forgiving person, always the first to let go of her grudges. But this time, she really didn’t want to give in, hence the reason she had kicked him out in the first damn place. To resist his blue eyes pleading at her felt like more than she could bear. Seeking a respite from the force of those suckers, she spun him on his feet so she could study the wounds she’d noticed earlier. At least his eyes would be hidden, and she could maybe think clearly. “Let me see your back.” She lifted his shirt and drew in a quick breath at the sight. “It’s gone.”

“Yeah, remember how I told you we heal fast? Exhibit A, in front of your eyes.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“How amazing.” She exhaled, running her fingers over his smooth skin. The faded red marks that remained were the only sign he’d ever been hurt, and even those disappeared before her eyes. His muscles clenched as she trailed her fingers over his skin, and a stab of desire shot through her. There were at least a million reasons why she should step away from him and kick him out again. A million reasons to resist the urge to find pleasure in his arms.

But the need to feel his lips on hers, to feel him inside her, overcame all rational thought, and moaning at the torture, she pressed her lips to his back and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She gently dug her nails into his taut abdomen and scratched his skin through his chest hair. He gave a low curse and turned to grab her shoulders. No sooner did his arms close around her than his lips were on hers in a thirsty need for satisfaction. No longer was it an issue of stopping if things got out of control for them. She could feel it in his kiss, and she could damn well feel it in herself. This wasn’t about desire anymore; it was a matter of life and death. To live, they needed each other. To breathe, she needed his kisses.

Her legs buckled under the force, and he cradled her in his arms as they collapsed to the ground. He gripped her hips to pull her against him before grinding against her. She whimpered as liquid warmth flowed through her and settled between her legs. They both ceased to breathe out of sheer pleasure when she wrapped her legs around his hips. They ripped at each other’s clothing in their eagerness to be naked, for the erotic feel of skin meeting skin in all the right places. The only sounds besides their harsh breathing were the sounds of clothing being torn.

As he ravished her mouth, she dug her nails into his shoulders and thrashed beneath him, desperate for something solid against her fingers. The marks would be gone by the time they finished, so neither paid much heed to them. His lips burned a hot trail from hers and down the side of her neck, where it focused. She shuddered and grasped him even tighter.

“Isaac….”

He tore his mouth from her neck, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. She couldn’t handle the wait; she needed to feel him inside her now. Normally, she would be all about the foreplay, but if he didn’t hurry the hell up, she’d burst into flames. Lust licked at her in hot bursts, causing her stomach to clench and her legs to wrap around him in desperation. When he pulled back from her neck, she thought her wait over, but he only teased her, as he kissed a trail of hot kisses to the other side of her neck. She couldn’t

take any more of this sweet torture, surely she couldn’t.

Oh, sweet God.

His lips closed around her nipple, and she lost all thought. She arched her back in frenzy, needing to get closer to his mouth, to give him free rein over her body. His tongue bathed her sensitive nipple, and a jolt of liquid desire shot straight to her clitoris. She almost came, then and there. She’d done this before; she was no innocent. But never before had it felt like this. Like she could explode at a single touch. Seriously, just one touch from him, and she’d surely burst into a million pieces.

He moved to her other breast, and she trailed her fingers down his smooth back. She skimmed her hand over his buttocks and moved around to the front of his body to run her fingers over his tight abdomen, and smiled in pure satisfaction when his muscles clenched at her touch. She heard him take a swift intake of breath when her hand closed around his hard shaft, and she moved suggestively beneath him while gently stroking him. A drop of moisture gathered at the tip of his penis, and she rubbed it over the head of his shaft. He groaned and crushed her lips beneath his again, plunging his tongue inside much as she would like him to do with his penis.

He positioned himself between her legs and threaded his hands through her hair. Triumph swelled inside her, and she pulled demandingly at his hips. At the point of entering her body, he paused to look outside. The wind howled, and the skies were turbulent. He took a calming breath, uncertainty clear in his features.

Oh, hell no. They weren’t stopping now. She didn’t give a damn if a tornado came and killed her while he came inside her or not—the time for waiting had ended. Sabrina grabbed his face in both of her hands.

“Focus on me, look at me.”

He followed her command, and she stared into his eyes. His desire burned as clearly as his insecurity, laid bare for her to see. The world outside calmed as his breathing slowed. “I love you, Isaac.”

“God, I don’t deserve you, but I love you, too.”

He kissed her and entered her in one swift thrust, all the way to the hilt. He filled her completely, stretching her as far as she could go, and she had never felt better. Any other time she had done this became a pale imitation of making love. This man brought new meaning to making love. It should always feel so good. So right. Sabrina tensed, and widened her eyes as she instantaneously climaxed when he touched her clitoris. The combination of him inside her and his fingers proved too much to bear. And oh, God, he hadn’t finished. Not even close to it.

He continued to move in her as he stroked her. Pressure built up inside her again. She would die. But man, it would be the best. Death. Ever. She cried out and met his every push as burning need encompassed her, the greedy need to feel more pleasure, to fall to pieces once more. He cried out her name, and as she watched his face as he climaxed, she let go of herself and joined him, allowing satisfaction to overtake her once more.

Lightning flashing illuminated her closed eyes, thunder boomed, and the house groaned under the force of the winds outside, but neither occupant noticed. She was too busy staring at him in awe, and he did the same.