Caine's Reckoning (45 page)

He glanced at her face; the frown, the tension pleating her brow mixed with passion softening her lips, and he understood.

She feared how he would see her if she revealed it. He shook his head again, letting the edge of his teeth tease the edge of her nipple as he did so. “Desi?”

“What?”

“You’re not supposed to be holding back.”

“I’m trying not to.”

He could see she was. He shifted up, not releasing her nipple right away, stretching it away from her body, pausing when her lids flickered and her breath caught, letting her sink into the pleasure, maximizing it with a flick of his tongue before releasing it with a little pop. He brushed a kiss over her chin, her nose and the closed lids of her eyes. High color rode the edge of her cheekbones. He hitched up until he could cup her cheek in his hand. A stroke of his thumb and she looked at him. The impact of those blue eyes hit his gut harder than a sucker punch. So much want. So much trust. So much worry. “Do you really want me to take over?”

“Would you?”

It wouldn’t be a hardship. It was his nature to command any situation he was in, but he had to be sure she knew what she was asking for. “Even if you get scared?”

She didn’t answer right off. He respected that. It was a big deal to give a man control. Especially with her background.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You always ask that.”

“Probably because I always want to know.”

Her fingers skimmed his elbow and rode up his arm, disturbing the hairs along the way. With feminine delicacy they closed around his wrist, holding him as he’d held her. “Because I think relaxing enough to enjoy what you make me feel is going to take all my concentration.”

He smiled and dropped his forehead to hers. Lord help him, she was going to concentrate. “Well, if one of the things you plan on concentrating on is how to hide that you like your loving rough sometimes, you can take it off the list.”

Her lips pursed in a perfect
O
of horror.

“You know about that?”

He didn’t understand how she thought he could have missed it. “I not only know about it, I’m celebrating it.”

“But you don’t like to hurt me.”

He was glad she didn’t phrase that as a question. He kept her face turned toward his. “No, but I love making you go wild in my arms, giving you what you need to come, holding you while you shudder and scream, coming with you.” He lowered his mouth until his was a hairsbreadth from hers, so close their breath intermingled. “I love giving you everything it takes to get you there, spanking your ass, your pussy, your clit.”

Her high-pitched squeak hit his lip in a sharp blow, slicing straight to his cock. A quick glance showed her pulse going twice its normal rate.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you, sweetheart? Your man taking away your options, commanding your pleasure? Giving him whatever he wants, that gets you humming, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes closed and her tongue passed over her lips in a quick jerk. He didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she tightened her grip and confessed. “God help me, yes.”

Confidence flowed into him right along with lust. He kissed her lightly before tucking her under him. “Trust me, Gypsy, you don’t need God right now. Giving you what you need will be my pleasure.”

H
is shadow blocked out the light, fear and possibly common sense, because even though she was surrendering everything to Caine, Desi wasn’t afraid. Instead, as Caine came over her, the heavy weight of his big body pressing her into the mattress, she felt free. Freer than she’d ever felt in her life. Caine didn’t need her to be perfect. He liked her just the way she was, with all her unconventional thoughts and reactions. He even liked her temper.

She slid her fingers into the cool strands of his hair. He needed a haircut. The sense of right deepened as she realized, as his wife, it would be her job to give it to him. She smiled as she pulled his mouth to hers. Lord knew what he’d look like after she got done with him.

“Kiss me, Caine.”

She wanted his mouth on hers, wanted to be so immersed in him. There’d be no chance for the memories to howl.

He obliged, his mouth taking hers with that barely civilized command that melted her all the way down to her toes. A press of his thumb underneath brought her chin up, improving the angle for the sure thrust of his tongue. His taste flooded her mouth. Welcome. So very welcome. She focused on the touch of his hand, his scent, his taste, blocking out everything else. Until there was just Caine.

His lips parted from hers, not going far, hovering just out of reach. The arch of her neck was instinctive. His hum of approval immediate.

“Concentrating, Gypsy?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Something tickled her ear. She was tempted to open her eyes and see what, but if she did that, she might lose the illusion she was weaving around them. That this was their first time. That there’d never been anyone else. That he loved her as much as she loved him.
Oh, God, she loved him.

“About what?”

“About how good you feel against me, how good you smell, taste.” She smiled. “Just…you.”

She knew, from the way his thumb stroked her temple, that she hadn’t fooled him that that was all there was. He’d be wanting her to open her eyes next. She forestalled him with a simple, “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me open my eyes. Just let me pretend.”

The sheets rustled as he shifted, contemplating what she’d just said. “I’m not sure I like knowing my woman’s got her eyes closed, wishing herself away, as I’m making love to her.”

“I’m not wishing myself away.” She wanted to drown herself in him. “I just want to pretend that this is the first time, that there’s no past screaming at me, no disappointments between us and I’m coming to you pure.”

His hoarse “Ah, shit” almost had her opening her eyes. She let go of his wrist and fumbled her way to his shoulders. Her palms molded to the hard strength with an easy familiarity. She held on as she whispered, “Let me pretend, Caine, please.”

The cool slide of his hair brushed the back of her hand before she felt the firmness of his lips.

“You pretend all you want, baby, but when you decide what to add to your make-believe world, you understand this…” His lips left her. So did his weight. He turned her over, talking all the while. “I’ve never had a woman more pure come to my bed.” The mattress sank around her as his weight came down over her back. “Things happen to a body in life. Accidents of fate that leave scars inside and out, but they don’t matter.” One of his hands worked between them, cotton scraping the backs of her thighs as he pushed his pants down. “Don’t get me wrong, if I could go back in time, I’d kill every one of the sons of bitches before they laid a finger on you, but I don’t think of your past as an imperfection any more than I think of—” he dropped his hand to her knee where a crescent scar rested “—this scar, that I bet you got playing when you were a little girl, as an imperfection.”

She’d actually gotten it trying to escape, but she liked Caine’s perception better, so she didn’t correct him.

Desi went a second without his heat, heard a drawer open and close, a belt buckle hit the floor and then his thighs came back between hers, the hairs dusting his flesh tickling her. She dug her fingers into the sheets as his cock settled high on the crease of her buttocks, searing her flesh.

Caine’s view of life might be simplistic compared to the intricacies of the society in which she’d grown up, but like the man himself, it was a philosophy that rolled with life’s vagaries rather than trying to fight them. And in Caine’s world, a wife was a partner to be treasured, honored, protected. And maybe if she played her cards right, loved.

She groaned as his cock slid down her rear, falling into the deep crease, dragging against the sensitive flesh until it slipped into her cream. A woman loved by Caine would never worry about his fidelity, being judged or the future, simply because a woman loved by Caine would be his world. And Caine’s world was big and forgiving and full of acceptance.

His cock nuzzled in, finding the well of her vagina with ease, lingering, pressing. His hand slid downward under her body, fingers curving, his thumb catching in her navel, pressing gently before his hand insinuated itself between her legs, pulling up the cotton until the swollen folds, still pulsing from his previous attention, were bared.

And pleasure, she mentally added to the list of things to be found in Caine’s world as he found her clitoris. There was a lot of pleasure for a woman invited into Caine’s world. Her breath hung up in her lungs as those long, lean fingers circled, plucked and flicked.

“And that’s the other thing you need to understand, Gypsy,” he whispered in his deep drawl, continuing with his point. “I touch you and your breath catches. Not because you’re seeing dollar signs, or because I paid you for the pleasure, but simply because it’s my hand on you.”

His fingers contracted, his cock pushed, spreading her muscles, forging past the initial resistance, making a place for himself in her sensitive flesh. Her cry was involuntary, a volatile welcome to the slow invasion. His hum of satisfaction came right behind it. “There’s no purer gift a woman can give a man, Desi, and so long as you don’t mess with that, I won’t mess with your pretending.”

She panted through the first level of his possession. It was the longest speech he’d ever given, and with her eyes closed and all her senses focused on his voice, there was no mistaking the sincerity. She wiggled her butt back, hampered by her position. With her toes barely touching the floor, she was helpless beneath him. “Maybe I won’t pretend after all.”

His laugh puffed over her ear, sending tingles down her spine. She opened her mind to the sensation rather than trying to control it. It skimmed the surface of her awareness for a moment before catching on something and then burrowing in, leaving her open and receptive for more.

“I’d prefer it.”

And she believed him. For the first time ever, she really believed he just wanted what she felt as she felt it, without worrying that as he touched her he saw the handprints of those who had gone before. It was wonderfully liberating. She tilted her head to the side, facilitating his nibbling kiss, letting those shivers go where they wanted, letting them build the pleasant glow.

“Caine?”

“What, baby?” He was clearly distracted.

“Make me yours tonight.”

His lips left her neck. “You already are.”

“Not like either of us need.”

“You know what you’re asking for?”

“Literally?” She opened her eyes and strained to see his face. “No, but I trust you.”

His fingers bit into her buttocks as his cock waited inside her, pulsing with his heartbeat, his anticipation. “Don’t ask this of me, Desi, if you’ve got any doubts. I won’t be able to let you go if you give yourself to me like that.”

She arched back into his possession. “Who asked you to?”

It came out more gasp than question.

He caught one of her curls around his finger and measured it, as if it held all the secrets of the world. “You were raised with fine things. Meant for them.”

“And yet the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted was to be yours.” She dug her toes into the floor and pushed up. “Make me yours.”

For three heartbeats he didn’t move, just rose above her like a wonderfully cast statue embracing everything masculine and primitive that made a man a man. And as she watched from the corner of her eye, all that control shattered, and for the first time, she got to see the man she’d married without the reserve he wore like a shield. Possessive, carnal, intent on dominating her. Fear tempered her excitement, but even the fear was good because it just sharpened the latter.

Caine cupped her pussy, all the possession and dominance in his expression doubled in his touch. “Don’t let me scare you.”

She brought her hand around, placing a finger to his mouth the way he did to her when he wanted her attention focused. He was such a worrying man. “Scare me, excite me, pleasure me.” She traced the contour of his firm mouth, smiling when he captured the tip of her finger between his teeth. “Whatever you want.”

He made a noise like a growl in his throat, his fingers leaving hers to clasp her buttocks, spreading the soft flesh even as his thighs pushed at her. “Open.”

The words came from her soul. She needed this, needed to know she could handle him when he let go. Needed him to know it, too. “Make me.”

With a hard curse, he pushed up and away. First one and then the other of her hands were anchored above her head, captured in his. He pressed them into the mattress beside her head, sounding completely savage as he asked, “Is this what you want, Desi? Me to love you like I’ve been dreaming about, all stretched out beneath me, helpless to do anything but take me as I command?”

A hot bolt of lust tore through her, stealing her voice. She managed a nod.

“It’ll be hard and rough.” He nudged her thighs apart. “Maybe too much like you used to fear.”

She shook her head, sure of this. “It’ll be nothing like I’m used to.”