Finally Home (Home Series) (39 page)

For several moments, he stood beside the bed just looking down at her.  She wasn't sure what was going on in his head, what she should do
, but instinct told her to remain still and silent.  After a few more moments, she saw him take a step back, removing his shoes and her heart leapt. 

"Come here,
cara mia
," he ordered and she instantly obeyed, getting up to stand before him.  "Take my shirt off," he said.  She pulled it from his pants and then her hands went to the buttons, working them free as fast as she could, smoothing it from his shoulders. She undid his cuff links so the shirt could fall to the floor, then reached for his undershirt.  He placed his hands over her wrists, making her stop and look up at him.  "No one has seen my scars other than my men and my doctors."

She kept her gaze on his eyes and with his hands still loosely on her wrists, raised his undershirt up to his chest, then waited patiently for him to release her so she could finish pulling it off of him.
  Once she'd tossed it to the floor as well, she placed her hands on his pecs, but kept her eyes on his as she slowly let her hands trail down his washboard abs.  She could feel the areas where his skin was ridged, puckered and rough under her fingers and palms and tried to let him know that it didn't matter...because to her, it didn't.  She loved the man he was inside, and she knew that those scars helped form who he was.  And she did love him.  Every last, gorgeous, stubbornly flawed inch of him.

After she felt his front, she stepped
closer, pressing her breasts to him so she could feel his back...and froze.  She'd felt some of this through his shirt before but...tears stung her eyes.  These were scars from a whip, some deep, some puckered all over; there was hardly any smooth areas of his back at all.

"
Oh, Mike," she whispered, unable to contain her emotion, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Don't," he said, stepping back from her.  "Get my pants."

She nodded and reached for his belt.  She unfastened it and pulled it from the loops, tossing it to the floor, then undid his pants, reaching behind him to cup his muscular butt in her hands as she let his pants slide down his legs.  He stepped out of them then fisted his hand in the back of her hair to tilt her face up so he could kiss her.

"Are you on the pill?" he asked against her lips.

"Yes," she breathed.

He backed her to the bed until the backs of her legs hit and she was forced to sit down.  Her fingers looped in the waistband of his black underwear, the kind that fit like bike shorts, and she slowly, carefully, peeled them down, allowing his arousal to spring
free...and her breath escaped in a strangled hiss.  He'd told her at Melissa's that the scars were worse here.  He hadn't been lying.  His groin area was heavily scarred.  She knew he didn't want her tears, but seeing him, she couldn't help it.  He suffered so much.

"They were monsters," she whispered, trembling fingers touching his lower groin area.

"And they're all dead now," he said flatly.

She leaned forward and touched her lips to his hip, then kissed each of the scars around his groin
, tears streaming down her cheeks.  There were Arabic words branded along his pelvic bone and some Arabic symbols carved into his flesh that she could tell surgeries had tried to remove but didn't quite succeed.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice rough.

She pressed her cheek to his hip a moment, very aware of his arousal brushing her face.  Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and looked up at him.

"Don't cry for me,
cara mia
, I survived."

"Yes, you did...
but..."

"No, buts.  No tears," he leaned over her, pushing her back on the bed, covering her, "no more talking."

"Yes, sir," she said, smiling up at him as he settled between her thighs.

"Well, maybe just a little more talking.  Look at me," he demanded. "
I want to see you when I'm inside you."

"Oh, God, Mike, please.  Now, I can't -," she stopp
ed when he entered her, gasping.

Being connected to him this way, feeling him deep inside her was almost more than Lainey could bear.  She'd never considered herself a crier before.  It usually took a lot to push her over the edge but lately, she felt tears burning her eyes every time she turned around.  Seeing and touching his scars, feeling him moving inside her, feeling the love she had for her wounded warrior...she couldn't stop the tears, letting them flow freely.

Mike ended the kiss and raised himself on his hands, devoting all his energy into finally claiming her as his own.  He didn't have to demand that she look at him; when he'd pulled back, those huge emerald eyes locked onto his gaze.  He could see her tears as they pooled and spilled over onto her cheeks and it both humbled and thrilled him.  To know that she felt so deeply that she couldn't contain her emotions made him feel like he could do anything, be anything.  He could plainly see the love she felt for him shimmering in those emerald pools.  He'd never seen that from a woman before. 

She reached up and touched his face, then trailed her hands down his neck to his shoulders and down his arms.  In the back of his mind before, was the fear that his scars would repulse her.  He should have known better.  Lainey Riley was the strongest person he knew
.  She wept for him, but she also touched him.  She put her lips on the worst of his scars and kissed him, and judging by her reaction to him now, she was far from repulsed.

"
Cara
, I'm not going to last much longer," he warned her, "it's been too long and..."

"Take what you want, Mike," she told him, wrapping her legs around his waist, letting him slide deeper.

"Dio!"
he breathed, pumping into her with all his strength.

Lainey clung to him, loving the strength of his passion.  When he warned her that he wouldn't last much longer, it secretly thrilled her.  To know that she could push such a powerful, normally controlled man over and beyond his limits was the most heady, erotic feeling in the world.  Her nails dug into his shoulders as she held onto him, the pressure building in her womb until she was sure she couldn't take another stroke.

"Put your hands on the pillow, palms out," he told her as he moved.

She hesitated only a moment,
dropping them from his shoulders.  As soon as she did, he shifted so that his hands gripped her wrists, pinning them to the bed as his thrusts became harder and faster.  Her legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into his butt as she felt her release shatter through her, and she began sobbing his name over and over, alternating between calling him Mike and Commander.  He continued pounding into her, well past the last vestiges of her release until she felt another building.  The pressure on her wrists was getting uncomfortable but she loved it...she loved being pinned and held by him even though her fingers were aching to touch him.

When a second release began tearing through her she was sobbing, almost screaming and finally...finally he groaned, his release coming in time with hers.  Sweat poured off of him onto her but she didn't care.  The instant he released her wrists, she twined her arms around him, burying her fingers in the back of his hair to pull him down all the way on top of her, her face nuzzled against his chest.  When he tried to pull back, she tightened her hold, arms and legs.

"Lainey..." he began but she shook her head.

"Just hold me, Mike," she pleaded, "hold me tight and don't let go."

He took a deep breath and did as she asked, his arms snaking around her to hold her tight against him.

"
Tu sei la mia salvezza,"
he whispered to her, bringing fresh tears to her eyes. 
You are my salvation,
he'd told her. 

"
Ti amo,"
she whispered softly.  She didn't think she'd said it loud enough for him to hear, but she needed to say it anyway. 
I love you.
  And she did.  More than words could ever say; no matter how he exasperated her at times.  She loved him beyond all reason and understanding.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally pulled back from her, lifting himself on his forearms, smoothing his big hands over her hair.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, nipping gently at her full lower lip.  "I could barely concentrate on my job tonight, seeing you in that dress, imagining what you wore beneath it.  Quite lovely, by the way."

She kissed him, catching his lower lip between hers and running her tongue over it as she sucked on it.

"And now it's in shreds," she said, her eyes sparkling up at him.

"Yes, it is.  You understand, after you said you were mine, after this...you are not to allow Kevin Adtkisson to touch you ever again."

"I didn't want him to touch me tonight," she said honestly.

"I didn't like seeing you dance with my brother, either."

Her eyes widened.  "You saw?  I thought you weren't in the room then."

"I got called out right after you got to the dance floor.  I know he loves his wife...but I still didn't like it."

"I couldn't even look at him," she confessed.  "It hurt too much.  I wanted him to be you.  I wanted to be by your side, in your arms all night."

"
Bambina,"
he began but she stopped him.

"No, d
on't.  I don't want to argue, but the Ball is a big deal, you know that.  I wanted everyone to know that we were trying to work things out, that we want to be together."

He slid from her and got up from the bed, then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bathroom.  He placed her on her feet and leaned in to turn the shower on, then pulled her inside with him.  She figured he wasn't going to address her concerns and decided not to
press it as she watched the water run down his beautiful, scarred body.  Unable to resist touching him, she took the sponge from the rack and his soap and began washing his chest, glancing up into his eyes every once in a while, seeing them hooded and hot, rather than his usual iciness.  Emboldened, she took the sponge lower, washing the evidence of their lovemaking from him, feeling him harden and lengthen within her grasp.

Her hand tightened around him as he cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her.  She stroked him as his tongue stroked against hers, the
water from the multiple showerheads beating down on them, warming her.  He pulled back from her mouth and placed a kiss to her brow while she continued to stroke him tightly in her hand, loving that she felt his big body trembling. 

He lifted her into his arms and sat on the bench, settling her so that she was straddling him and entered her while claiming her mouth.  She began moving against him, thrilled that he woul
d let her take control this way. After several moments of kissing him and grinding long and slow against him, she pulled back, smoothing her hands over his short hair and tilting his head back so she could see his face.

She concentrated on riding him slow and easy, letting the steam from the shower build the steam between their bodies, keeping the pace slow and steady.  He had one hand on her hip and the
other on her breast, lifting its weight in his palm so that he could lean down to suckle while she slowly rode him.  Lainey arched her back to give him better access, her hands digging into his shoulders, feeling her world begin to shift and center to revolve only around him.

"Mike," she whimpered, beginning to writhe even more.  He reached down and pressed his thumb to her center, stroking her sensitive bud in time to her movements, bringing her to a panting climax.

"Keep going,
bambina
, don't stop...I'm close."

"Oh, oh, please," she cried, and he could feel her muscles contracting around him, milking him.

When he found his release, it was a gentle, tender moment between them.  He wrapped her tight in his arms and held her through the explosion of his release, feeling his hot seed coating both of them while she clenched him.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his lips against her ear.  "So sweet. 
Cara mia, il mio amore
." 

She wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulders, holding him as if he would disappear at any moment. 
My love,
he'd called her.  If he only knew how much she loved him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After they dried off, Mike carried her to his bed and laid her down gently, almost reverently, then stood beside the bed looking down at her.  She allowed it for a few moments, then lifted her arms, reaching for him.

"Come to me," she whispered, hoping he couldn't hear the fear in her tone.
  She was afraid he'd leave to go downstairs to work and not get the rest he needed. Much to her relief, he got in beside her, gathering her into his arms and pulling her close so that her cheek was nestled against his chest. "Thank you," she said, placing a kiss to his chest.

For several moments they didn't speak.  She was lightly stroking her hand over his shoulder; he was idly playing with her hair.
  His heart beat strong and steady under her ear, his breathing light and even.  She thought that this may be the most content he'd ever been, even more so than the other times she'd slept beside him.