Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (19 page)

“Oh, no you don’t, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” He started heading toward the stairs.

“Bedroom?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Mmmm,” she sighed and burrowed her head into his neck, kissed her way down to the collar of his shirt, and then worked her way back up to his jaw. His skin was hot beneath her lips, his smell potent at his throat, rich and earthy under the bite of aftershave and soap.

Drunk on alcohol and
Matthew she nuzzled him. “I love your smell. You know that?”

Deep laughter.

She struggled to sit up in his arms, pulling herself up on his forearms so she could see his face better. “I mean it. You smell
reaaaaally
good.”

His mouth curled up to the side and he dumped her on the bed.

They were here already?

“You’re still dressed,” she pouted. Not fair at all since she was halfway naked.

He stripped his shirt off and Allie’s mouth went dry.

“Better?” he murmured. His eyes stayed on her, eating every inch. Heat trickled up the inside of her belly in response.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she licked her lips. “Boy, I love your chest. Could look at it for hours.” And she meant it, too. He was all chiseled muscle, hard as granite, every inch defined. All without a speck of hair to be found. That sexy-as-hell tattoo over his sexy-as-hell peck and perfect brown nipple. Just above the hard columns of his sexy-as-hell abdominals.

“I think I drank too much.” She grinned up at him.

“You only had one drink.”

His pants and boxers dropped to the floor and
Allie forgot whatever she’d been saying . . . forgot her own name, too, until he climbed up on her and whispered it in her ear.

He was all long, coiling muscle and
Allie was reminded of a great cat—the way his steady green gaze followed hers. Her fingers traced his cheek and his eyes closed, a sigh easing through parted lips.

“I
love
the way you look at me,” she murmured.

When his eyes opened again, there was only the thinnest barrier holding back the pain inside them. Forehead lowering to her belly, he rasped, “
Allie, no.”

She was hitting a nerve—but in her inebriated state she didn’t have the ability to keep the words, “
I love everything about you
,” from tumbling out of her mouth.

His hands shackled
Allie’s wrists above her head. “Don’t . . . please,” he whispered—pleaded.

Allie
wrapped her legs around his waist and urged her hips into him. “I need fewer clothes, Matthew.”

The hunger seeped back into his eyes and
Allie sighed inwardly with relief at having distracted him from her stupid mouth.

He slid down to the bottom of the bed until she felt his hands on her thighs. Fingers undid the clasps to her garters and rolled each one down her leg while his mouth followed behind, blazing kisses over her trembling skin. When he got to the bottom of her foot he lightly bit the bottom of her heel. His nose ran along the hyper-sensitive skin of her arch, and then his teeth clamped around the pad of her big toe.

“
Oh
.” Allie writhed on the bed above him. She had no idea she could feel so much pleasure just from her foot . . . but then, Matthew was not the average man—he leaned more toward
Superman
.

Her panties went next and then he was filling her, taking her breath away with each blissful charge. Her legs wound together just below his shoulder blades as she met him thrust for thrust.

Deeper. Harder. Faster.

Oh
, yes!

Yes
, this was what they were meant for.

Her nails tore at the heavy, bunching muscles in his back. His six-pack rippled across her belly, flattening
Allie into the mattress while his hands cupped her breasts, pulling them free of what little fabric had been covering them.

“Oh,
Matthew!”

She was suddenly bereft of him, empty and aching as he flipped her over on the bed and pulled her ass against his hips. She could have sobbed from the pain of his absence.

“Like this, baby,” his breath a ragged whisper against her ear, he slowly slid inside once more. She dug her hands into the bedding.
Oh, oh,
she was so full this way.

“Okay?” he asked, and she could tell he was gritting his teeth against the need to
move.

“Yes,” s
he panted.

He eased out of her slowly before slamming hard into her.

“
Ah
!” Her spine curled and she buried her head into the mattress. It was almost too much, almost painful; but it was also pure bliss.

“That okay?” He paused.

“Again, please! Matthew!”

He slammed into her again and she cried out, his name a prayer on her lips. Again and again, over and over, the sound of their gasping breaths and slick, colliding bodies filling the air around them. Every cell sang, every nerve was alive, brought into being through
Matthew’s touch. This was truly living. With this dark god covering her—wrapping around every inch of her, inside and out—consuming all who she was. A tornado of power and primeval lust, swirling around her, tearing her down to only her quivering essence; so raw and naked. His to do with as he wanted. And somehow he’d transformed her from the bland little girl of a few months ago into the writhing creature of passion beneath him.

Her eyes closed and she gave all she was over to him.

***

Hours later, the room enfolded them like a darkened womb.
Allie cradled into the side of Matthew, the steady beat of her own heart beneath the tips of her fingers. They were both damp and hot, freshly showered, the thick tangle of Allie’s hair spread all around them.

She felt the weight of sleep pressing around her, coaxing her eyes shut. Blinking, she rolled over, her body sore and utterly well-used. “
Matthew? Are you awake?”

He rolled onto his side so they were facing each other, noses almost touching. “You okay?”

“Yes. Fine.” She ran the tips of her fingers over the valleys of his arm. His eyes closed; a small smile of contentment on his lips.

“Are you okay with me being here?” she whispered. When his brows pinched together she added, “In your bed, I mean. You said you had a hard time sleeping.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

There was so much she wanted to ask him.
About his family; about his brother. About why his walls were so bare.

Why was he so isolated?

So sad?

Instead,
Allie snuggled into the warmth and protection of his body. “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered. The mood felt reverent, and she was afraid to ruin it.

His arm constricted around her and he placed a gentle kiss over her forehead, battle roughened fingers heartbreakingly tender as they pushed the loose strands of hair away that were stuck to her cheek.

The future was so uncertain between the two of them. It stretched as a great, black maw; their worlds so far apart. Allie could never hope to imagine the kind of life that had left Matthew so hard and yet so broken.

But in this moment, they were of one heart, and it was enough.

***

Allie
jerked to wakefulness suddenly, the blood in her veins cold as ice. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to place her surroundings.

Matthew
’s home.

His bed.

Her fingers searched for him, but came away empty. She was alone.

“
Matthew?” she whispered to the darkness, her voice tentative and small.

Fear tingled up her spine on spider’s legs, and she wrapped the sheets tighter around her. Fumbling to the side of the bed, she switched on a lamp and yellow light flooded the room.

Matthew wasn’t there.

Trembling, she slid out of the bed and pulled
Matthew’s shirt over her head. It hung down, well past her knees, but smelled of him. Made her feel a little braver.

She tiptoed to the doorway and paused just outside the hall.

“Matthew?”

The
same crash that awoke her burst through the silence once more, followed by angry shouts.

“Jay
,
damnit
! Come on, it’s just ahead.”

Allie
crept down the stairs, keeping to the shadows as Matthew shouted from somewhere below. The smooth, wood railing slid beneath her shaking hands while stripes of grey moonlight stretched across the length of the house.

Who’
s Jay?

Another crash.

“Fuck! Come
on
, bro,” Matthew shouted again.

As her toes
hit the final stair her hands covered her mouth and she peeked out from the safety of the shadows.

“Oh, no
.” Her hands clamped harder over her lips, her eyes wide to the horror of what was playing out in the family room.

Matthew
crouched at the base of one of his expensive, leather couches, which was now tipped up on its side. The moon’s rays highlighted the side of his heaving chest and shoulders, but kept his face in darkness. He wore nothing but his boxer briefs, while a blanket tangled around his feet. His eyes were open, but the look in them belonged oceans away.

A night terror
, Allie thought. But too intense. She swallowed around a lump of fear. Flashback fit better.

Heavy breath was forced through
Matthew’s flaring nostrils, thin lips pulled back over barred teeth, and his arms jerked through the air, not quite connecting to whatever violence he was reliving in his mind.

W
hat to do?

She took a cautious step toward him, barely breathing, not wanting to startle him in any way. She’d heard that waking up a sleepwalker was bad; who knew what
could happen if she woke Matthew? Sleepwalking had nothing over on this situation. This was more like approaching a wild animal.

Arms winding around her chest, she sent up a silent prayer for some kind of Devine guidance. All the while, her limbs trembled like leaves in a windstorm.

Be brave.

It’s only
Matthew.

Crap
,
that so did not help.

“
Matthew?” She took a few more creeping steps forward. He was muttering something under his breath as he hunched in on himself, but she couldn’t make out what it was.

“
Matthew?” she whispered again, finally making it to his side and laying a tentative hand against the clammy skin of his shoulder.

His hand flashed out faster than she could have thought possible. Eyes met hers, black-gre
en and cold as frozen lake water. He jerked her arm over his back, the tendons in her shoulder popping in protest, while at the same time his leg swept out and kicked her feet out from beneath her.

“
Uumph
,” her breath burst from her lungs as she fell hard onto her back and her head smacked against the floor.

Thank
goodness it was only carpet
. The room was spinning.

Matthew
straddled her, his feet hooking into her sides so she couldn’t so much as wiggle while his hands wrapped around her throat. “
Motherfucker
,” he snarled and his fingers dug in.

Black dots swam around the edges of her vision as
Matthew kinked her carotid against her esophagus like it was a garden hose. The blood was trapped in her head; her brain felt like an overinflated balloon.

She was going to pass . . . out. . . .

“
Matthew
,” she tried to plead, but his name came out a garble without any air to push the words past her lips. Fingers clawed at his steel grip on her. Shit; he was strong.

I am
not
going to die here.

She forced herself to stop fighting and focused on his vacant eyes, willing him to return to her, to break free from the terrors he was fighting. As the circle of black grew thicker around her she locked onto those green eyes.

Come back to me, Matthew.

Her palm flattened against his heart, tracing his tattoo like she did so often after they made love. Her touch stirred something inside him and the fog seemed to lift. His hands uncoiled while his face crumpled with an expression of pure agony, his brows crushing into each other, the skin tight around those haunted eyes.

“Jayce,” he was able to choke out just before he buried his head into Allie’s chest and his massive body collapsed beneath the weight of great, racking shudders of silent emotion.