“That’s kind of you.” He slipped a finger under the back of the thong and traced its path, spreading her butt cheeks slightly.
She stiffened.
His chuckle in her ear threw tingles down her entire body. “You’re not ready for that. Yet.”
She shivered, caught in his spell.
He continued, between her legs, and brushed across her labia.
Her knees trembled, and she almost fell.
“You’re right. Wet.” He slid his hand free and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back into an obvious erection. “Very.” Then he pushed his hand inside the front of her panties, two fingers working her clit.
Pleasure burst across her sex, and she lost her balance.
He held her upright with one arm, his strength stealing what was left of her breath. “I don’t have a lot of time, so let’s get you primed now.” He pinched, and an orgasm exploded through her, making her whimper and press back against him.
Her body rioted as he flipped her around and tore off the panties. A second later, his jeans hit the floor, and he rolled a condom over his straining and impossibly engorged penis.
She reached for him and quickly found herself flat on her back.
He covered her, and she reached for him again, pulling him down. “Now, Malcolm,” she ordered, needing him inside her more than she needed her next breath.
He kissed her again, going deep, and shoved himself inside her with one hard push.
Finally.
* * *
Mal paused, balls deep in so much heat he could barely breathe. He wanted to be gentle, but his body was fighting him. Every instinct he owned bellowed for him to make Pippa his. She already lived in his heart. If this was love, it sure as shit wasn’t the smooth, happy, dance-in-the-tulips feeling he’d always figured it would be.
He’d also never figured to find it.
But here she was. Beneath him, holding him tight, trusting him to keep her safe. The fact that she wouldn’t actually let him do that made the beast inside him want to break its chains. The civilized beast he’d had to create to survive in this world.
That part of him wanted to claim her forever.
She scratched her nails down his arm, avoiding the bandage over the cut he’d given himself. Then she arched against him, tracing his chest and digging those nails in.
The sharp bite propelled him to move. He slid out of her warm body and back in. Her internal walls clamped down on him, gripping every nerve he had and threatening to steal the small amount of control he’d been able to retain.
He’d try to manipulate her right now, but if she tried the same, she’d definitely win. The woman owned him, body, heart, and soul.
The idea of her being harmed cut through him, and he powered back inside her, going as deep as possible. She moaned and spurred him on, her legs widening to give him more room.
He planted one hand on the mattress by her shoulder for leverage.
She looked up at him, those sapphire eyes full of trust ... and need. Her dark hair was sprayed across the pillow, soft and silky.
He’d never had a family. Even with his grandfather, that hadn’t been family. In fact, he’d never had anyone who was his. Truly his. Until now.
He tangled his free hand in her soft hair, brushing his knuckles across her face. Her bones were so delicate.
Breakable, vulnerable, and fragile.
His.
Desire coiled harsh and tight inside him, bringing out a possessiveness in him that was nearly feral. He drew back and then pushed in again, going harder and faster.
