She responded immediately, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer with surprising strength. When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
“More important than saving my company?” she asked, slightly breathless.
“More important than anything.” I kissed her again, more deeply this time. “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long.”
Theresa pulled back slightly, searching my face. “You flew to Scotland and back. You hired someone who does illegal things. You called me at midnight.” A pause as she studied me. “Why?”
The answer rose to my lips without thought or calculation. “Because you’re mine to protect now. And I protect what’s mine.”
A small smile broke through her exhaustion. “Yours? That’s very... proprietary of you, Mr. McCrae.”
“Aye. Do you object?”
Theresa considered this, her hands still gripping my shirt, then pulled me closer. “No objections. But I should warn you—I’m terrible at being protected. I tend to handle my own battles.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said dryly. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
The words slipped out before I could catch them, and I froze slightly.
“One of the things?” Theresa asked softly.
I swallowed hard, committed now. “There’s a list. It’s getting longer every day.”
Her eyes darkened, and she pulled me to her with unexpected urgency. This kiss was hungry, demanding. I matched her intensity, understanding what she needed. Not gentle comfort, but fire to burn away the fear and rage.
I lifted her easily, laying her back on the bed without breaking the kiss. Her hands were everywhere—untucking my shirt, working at my belt, pulling me down to her with fierce determination. The heat of her body pressed against mine, her curves yielding yet demanding, as if she could consume me whole. I growled low in my throat, the sound vibrating between us, and she answered with a moan that shot straight to my cock, already straining against my trousers.
“I need you,” she whispered against my mouth, her voice raw and urgent. “Now.”
Our first time had been a sweet exploration, a tentative dance of discovery. This was raw, primal—a storm unleashed after having pent-up fury and desire. I stripped her sweater over her head in one swift motion, revealing the lace bra beneath, her nipples already pebbled and begging for attention. My mouth descended on one, sucking hard through the fabric, teasing with my teeth until she arched off the bed, her fingers digging into my scalp.
“Patrick,” she gasped, her hips grinding against mine in desperate rhythm. “More.”
I obliged, yanking the bra down to expose her fully. My tongue circled her nipple, flicking, while my hand slid down her jeans, popping the button and delving inside. She was soaked, her slick heat coating my fingers as I stroked her folds, finding thatswollen nub and circling it with deliberate pressure. Theresa bucked against my hand, her breath coming in sharp pants, her nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.
“Fuck, yer wet fer me,” I murmured against her skin, my Scottish burr thickening with lust. I slipped one finger inside her, then two, curling them to hit that spot that made her cry out. She clenched around me, tight and hot, her body trembling as I pumped in and out, my thumb never leaving her clit.
She yanked at my shirt with surprising strength, her nails scraping my back. “Jesus, woman,” I gasped, half-laughing. “My clothes aren’t the enemy.”
Her eyes flashed, dark and demanding, pupils blown wide with need. “Shut up, McCrae. And take them off.”
I rose up on my knees, shedding my shirt and kicking off my pants in record time, my cock springing free, hard and throbbing. I fumbled for my wallet in my discarded trousers, cursing the delay, but necessary. I tore the packet open with my teeth, my hands shaking slightly as I rolled the latex down. Theresa watched every move, her gaze heating my blood.
“Like that, is it?” I growled against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there as I shoved her jeans and panties down her legs. She kicked them off impatiently, spreading her thighs wide in invitation. I settled between them, the head of my cock nudging her entrance, teasing her with shallow thrusts that had her whimpering.
“Please,” she begged, her hands clutching my ass, trying to pull me deeper. “I need you inside me. All of you.”
With one powerful thrust, I buried myself to the hilt, her tight walls gripping me like a vice. We both groaned, the sensationoverwhelming—hot, wet, perfect. I paused for a heartbeat, savoring the way she pulsed around me, her body adjusting to my size. Then I started moving, slow at first, deep rolls of my hips that had her moaning with each withdrawal and plunge.
“Faster,” she demanded, her legs wrapping around my waist, heels digging into my back. “Harder, Patrick. Make me forget everything but this.”
I lost control then, pounding into her with relentless force, the bed creaking under us. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and I captured one in my mouth, sucking hard as I drove deeper, angling to hit her G-spot. Sweat slicked our bodies, the room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, her wet heat sucking me in, our ragged breaths mingling.
Theresa’s hands clawed at my shoulders, gripping my hair, sliding down to squeeze my ass as she met me thrust for thrust. “Yes, oh God, yes,” she chanted, her voice breaking. I could feel her building, her muscles tightening, her moans turning to desperate cries.
“Come for me, love,” I rasped, reaching between us to rub her clit in tight circles. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
She shattered then, her body convulsing around me, inner walls fluttering and clenching in waves that milked my cock. She cried out, head thrown back, neck arched like a bow, her nails scoring my skin as ecstasy ripped through her. The sight of her—flushed, fierce, utterly undone—triggered something primal in me. Mine. My warrior. My woman.
