His throat grew tight.Fear.But of what?Epoc?McCoy?
Him?
He wanted to reach for her.Wanted to fold his arms around her slim, warm body and hold her close, his face pressed to her hair, their hearts beating as one.Instead he stayed still, elbows on his knees, side an inferno of red pain.Watching her eyes.
He didn’t know what his future held.But he knew—for the next few days at least, until he’d dealt with Epoc and his mongrel, McCoy—he could never leave her.Shewas now his world as much as Maggie had been.He’d burn in Hell before he let anything happen to her.
Didn’t you say that about Maggie, Dec?
Yeah.Yeah, he had.
“My father was a farmer,” Regan said suddenly, holding his gaze with her own.The statement was unexpected and Declan blinked.A soft smile flittered over Regan’s lips at his reaction but she continued, never changing her position.“His father before that, and his father’s father.Our land was in our blood.When the drought of ’eighty-three hit we lost the majority of our stock and crops.Do you know what it’s like to watch animals starve to death?To go out every morning with a .44, knowing you will be putting a bullet between the eyes of at least five dying animals?”
She dragged in a slow breath, a frown pulling at her eyebrows.“The bank foreclosed on Dad’s bridging loan and we were forced off our farm.Forced out by city money.Dad went to work in the local abattoir, slaughtering sheep and cattle almost starved, to feed the country’s population—the majority of which complained because the cost of milk had gone up, meat was becoming too expensive and farmers were just winging for a government hand-out.He came home every night stinking of blood and offal.Emotionally he died the day we had to leave the farm, but the abattoir killed his spirit.The only thing that pulled us through it all—living in Dad’s old work truck, surviving on stale bread and food-coupons—was our love for each other.”
She sighed, raking her hands through her hair before continuing, each word she spoke making Declan’s gut wrench.“Mum did everything she could to make the nightmare an adventure, but I’ll never forget those months.They were the worst of my life.And the best.It showed me who I was, who my family was, and I was proud of those revelations.But I couldn’t have walked away the person I am now if it wasn’t for my brother—Peter.He was my rock.Ismy rock.”
She stopped, the calmly delivered account both horrific and moving for the simplicity of her words.Declan stared at her.He’d wondered when he first met her what type of person risked their life for animals incapable of defending themselves and now he knew.
“Regan…”
She shook her head, leaning forward to place the ends of her fingers on his lips.“What I’m saying, Declan, is this.I know how strong the love of family is.I know what heartache is.”Her eyes held his for a long moment.Declan’s breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded in his chest, an increasing rhythm so strong he felt his body quake under its beat.
“I know,” she said.Before leaning closer still and replacing her fingers on his lips with hers.
The kiss was gentle.Almost hesitant.He felt the apprehension still holding her, but he felt something else.Something more powerful.A longing to be released of the memory.A desire to create a new one.A smoldering passion surging through her blood.As it did his.
He opened his mouth, the touch of her tongue against his teeth like a surge of raw energy, charging his body with concentrated need.He buried his hands in the tumble of her hair, pulled their bodies together.She fit so well between his legs, her hips pressed to his inner thighs, her soft mound brushing his stiffening shaft.He took her tongue deeper into his mouth, reveling in the way she tasted, the way she felt.
Her hands smoothed up his back, her palms like mist on his fevered flesh.She traced his spine down, fluttered her fingertips along the waistband of his borrowed boxers.Hot blood flooded his groin at the contact, his cock growing full and heavy.Its stiff length nudged the warm junction of her thighs and a deep moan sounded in her throat.
Nails scoring a wickedly delicious path back up to his shoulders, as if to hold him a prisoner in her embrace, she broke the kiss, green eyes heady as she looked into his.“You scare the shit out of me, Declan O’Connell.”
“You scare the shit out of me, Regan Thomas.”
Regan chuckled, dragging her hands from his shoulders, under his armpits to flatten her palms on his chest.She captured his nipples, rolling them gently between her fingers as she pushed her sex closer to his.“Well, at least we’re even then.”
He shook his head slightly.“Oh, no, Regan.There’s nothing remotely ‘even’ about this relationship.When it comes to the balance of power, you have me firmly in the palm of your hand.”
One of Regan’s eyebrows arched and her lips—those extremely kissable lips—twitched.Eyes holding his, she shifted slightly, sliding one hand down his torso, past the elastic band of his boxers to enclose his rigid cock in a snug grip.“This hand?”
He sucked in a sharp breath.“That would be the one.”
“Hmmmm.”Her thumb rolled over the head of his cock and he pulled in another breath, heartbeat tripling.“Best not be letting my power go to waste then.”
She pushed him backward, her other hand smoothing over his stomach as he stretched out on the chaise.With almost tender fingers, she traced the line of his scar, the hideous mark left by Epoc almost two years ago.He closed his eyes, her touch like a feather on the violent path.It soothed him.Dulled the angry burn of his side.When her lips brushed the white, jagged line of scar tissue, when she touched it with the tip of her tongue, his breath caught in his throat and his hands fisted the cushions.
So much of his life was about pain, and here was a creature wanting to take it away.The pain, the heartache.With a kiss…
Her tongue traced the scar.From its knotted starting point in the dip of his navel, to where its ragged path disappeared behind the thick thatch of his pubic hair.And still she didn’t stop.Her lips continued their journey, nibbling a steady trail over the black curls, the hand gripping his cock slowly pumping up and down as her tongue flicked at its wide, swollen base before moving on to his balls.She licked one then the other, drawing his right nut into the wet, warm well of her mouth.
A rolling tsunami of searing heat spread through his body, stealing his breath and making his heart pound.“Jesus, Mary!”
Regan’s tongue curled and flicked and licked at his balls.Her fingers stroked his cock, the organ so hard he felt its veins coursing with eager blood.Damn, it felt good.So good he thought sure he was going to come.Or transform.
Control it, Dec.If you change now…
The beast roared.Denied.Hungry for the pleasure Regan would bring.
