He made her feel powerful. Very. “So are you.” She reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. He had to duck to let her, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was struggling to hold himself back.
She liked that. A lot. Then his bare and battle-scarred chest stole her attention. So much strength and power there.
“We should probably talk,” he murmured, settling his palms on her upper chest, above her breasts. He watched as his hands smoothed over her arms and caressed her wrists and back up. He snagged one thin strap above her shoulder and tugged it down her arm. Then he did the same with the other side, baring her breasts. Cool air kissed her skin.
“Talk? Yeah,” she whispered. Instinctively, she started to cover her nudity, but the look in his eyes stopped her. Lust and something softer. Need? Adoration? Pleasure. Yeah. It was pleasure.
How she could feel both vulnerable and powerful in the same second was beyond her. But she did. Because of Malcolm West.
He palmed her breasts, lightly rolling her nipples. Electricity zapped right to her core, which swelled against the tight silk with a pulsing need. She moaned and reached for his belt buckle, releasing it and pulling his belt free.
They’d had sex several times, but a new intimacy cocooned them. She released his zipper.
That sound seemed to spur him on. He moved in, tangling her hair in his fist and twisting. Her head went back and to the side. Then, finally, he took her mouth.
Warm and firm and deep, he kissed her. Taking his time, sweeping his tongue in her mouth, tasting of mint and male. His scent surrounded her, his mouth took her, and his heat swelled across her, head to toe.
Every inch of her was somehow touched by him. And they were still partially clothed.
Both hands went to cup her face, and he tugged her up on her tiptoes while releasing her mouth. His determined gaze kept her as captive as the hold on her head. “I . . .” Frustration crossed his face as he obviously struggled for the right words.
“I love you,” she blurted out. Geez. Talk about smooth. She winced. “I know it’s really fast and we’ve only known each other through lies, but now we know the truth, and feelings are feelings even if they don’t make any sense.” Shut up. She had to stop her mouth right here and now. Nothing could interfere with the excellent sex she was about to have. It might be her last time ever.
“I love you, too,” he murmured, his gaze hot. “I worry that I’m taking advantage because you’ve been on the run so long, but you have my heart.”
The words slid into her and settled, warming everything she’d ever be. She leaned up to kiss him, but his strong hold prevented her. “Malcolm?”
“Tell me you’re mine.” His hold tightened on her face. “Right now. Say it.”
Her mouth partially opened, but she held the words back. The raw emotion glittering in his eyes gave her pause. Those words meant something to him. Something big. Realization dawned on her, and she pressed her lips together. He wanted license to keep her away from the cult. To protect her whether she wanted it or not. “I’ll give you whatever words you want ... on Saturday,” she whispered.
The sound that rumbled up from his chest could only be called a growl.
She tried to shake her head but couldn’t move. “I have to do this, Malcolm.” Not only for her friend and her mother, but for herself. She couldn’t live with the regret if she didn’t try to stop Isaac.
The anger in Mal’s eyes was almost her undoing.
Then he kissed her again, releasing her face to grasp her hips and lift her off the ground. She grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling and then wrapped her legs around his waist.
The kiss was feral and deep, pouring into her with anger, need, hunger, and a desperate promise. He started to move and soon set her gently on her feet in her bedroom. “Then I’m enjoying myself tonight,” he murmured, starting to walk around her. “Stay put.”
A smile tickled her lips as she obeyed. As he moved, he ran a finger along her collar bone, over her shoulder, and then across her upper back. “Mal—”
“Shhh.” He stayed behind her and traced a line down her spine to her buttocks and then back up. The cami was still pooled at her waist, and he gently slid it down, leaving her only in the bright blue thong. “This is nice.” He caressed one bare buttock. “If I remember right, these turn an enticing shade of pink.” He squeezed.
She gasped, and heat flowed right from his hand through her abdomen and between her legs. She remembered just as well that he hadn’t exactly held back last time. The thought alternatively thrilled and warned her.
He traced his hands over her thighs and down her legs to her ankles and then back up. “Are you wet for me, Pippa?”
She could only give a short nod. Words were trapped in her throat; her body was wide awake and busy shutting down her brain.
“I asked you a question.” He tapped her ass, none too gently.
She jumped. Nerves flared to wild life, and her breasts ached heavy and ready for him. “Yes,” she whispered.
He stepped into her, his chest to her back, his mouth leaning down, his breath hot on her ear. “Yes, what?” Those words, low and dangerous, licked through her somehow. Even now, even here, there was an edge to Malcolm West that called to a primal part of her she hadn’t known existed.
“Yes, I’m wet. For you,” she added before he could ask. “Though you could check, if you want.” She couldn’t help throwing down the challenge.
