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He’d never fucked without a condom before. Never. It was a rule. Instinct. He’d had one tear once, the result was the marriage to a viper and the birth of the daughter that stole his heart. The child whose death had all but destroyed him. So what the hell had happened to instinct, to his determination to never chance another such loss, where this woman was concerned?
Dragging himself from her, his hoarse groan joining her weaker one as he pulled his cock from her tight grip, Doogan rolled to her side. What had him hooking his arm around her and dragging her against his chest, he’d be damned if he knew.
“I think I might have bitten you,” she mumbled, exhausted, now lying bonelessly against his side. “But I think you bit me too.”
He grunted at the information.
He knew he’d bitten her, and he’d glimpsed the mark he’d left at the base of her neck as he rolled from her. Unmistakable, livid, a love bite guaranteed to get him killed if anyone saw it and reported it to her brother.
Hell, it was worth it. He decided. The brutal explosion of pleasure he’d experienced was like nothing he’d known before. Let Dawg kill him. He’d regret never having her again, but he wouldn’t have wanted to die without knowing that pleasure either.
“Think I bit you hard.” She sounded sleepy, exhausted. “It’s gonna show.”
“Yours too.” He tucked her closer against him. “Give me just a minute, baby; I’ll get up and find something to dry you off.”
“It’s okay.” She was slipping slowly into sleep. “I want to wear you for just a little longer.”
Wear him.
Something tightened in his chest at her words. She wanted to wear him for a little while longer. She had no desire to wash the scent of him from her as other lovers rushed to do after sex. Instead of hurrying to the shower she was curled against him, her breathing easing, slipping into sleep.
He felt the moment she gave in to sleep, curled against him, the fragile delicacy of her body warm and far too comfortable to him. With any other woman he’d have already pushed himself from the bed and washed as well before dressing and finding another bed to sleep in. He hadn’t slept with a woman in his entire life. Even the wife he’d once claimed.
This one, hell, he didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay right here; he intended to stay right there.
Dragging the comforter from the other side of the bed to pull over them, he tucked his head against the top of hers, his fingers burying in the wealth of silky hair now splaying out behind her.
Those curls were like living silk. Springy, so damned soft it was only rivaled by the feel of her flesh, and warm. Just as she was. And he refused to allow himself to consider how dangerous she was to his control, to the lock-down he’d placed on his emotions. He couldn’t let himself consider what the result of this night could do to his soul if he wasn’t diligent enough, careful enough to ensure Zoey’s protection.
He felt his lips quirk as she moved, coming closer to him, flowing against him until she was close enough that not so much as a breath could slip between them.
He liked that. He liked it too much, he knew, and when it came time to move, to separate himself from her, would he be able to do it?
He would have to.
He couldn’t stay.
He couldn’t keep her.
That last thought as he slipped into sleep had his chest clenching in regret.
He had a feeling, if he wasn’t careful, nothing would matter more than keeping her. That holding her forever could easily become his only thought, his only desire.
And both their downfall.
SIX
Zoey Mackay stood at the edge of the water as the small waves lapped at the bank, mere inches from her bare feet. With her legs bent, her arms wrapped around them, her chin resting atop her knees, she watched as the sun began to descend along the top of the mountains surrounding her brother, Dawg’s, home.
She could hear the voices behind her, many raised in laughter as the Mackay family, relations and friends, came together. The family reunion grew every year. And it seemed to last longer every year as well.
Dawg’s sprawling backyard was filled. Tables laid out with every food imaginable, the smell of hot dogs grilling, the sound of children playing in the pool rather than romping in the shallow water close to the bank, echoed around her.
The pool was safer for the kids, Dawg had remarked.
Not to mention a hell of a lot cleaner.
It was the usual sounds of the Mackay yearly get-together, and once again, Zoey found herself on the outside looking in.
