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He sighed. “You cannot. Go inside. Take a long bath. I will be back in a few hours.”
She made to leave but something in his closed off expression warned her. “Where will you be, Elijah?”
His visage became even more shuttered. “I will be visiting the saloon in town.”
She controlled the cry that tried to spill from her lips. His close off mien told her what his lips did not. He was going to the bed of one of the saloon girls. He couldn’t. “I can give you what you need. I want to be with you.”
It flared in his eyes, hot and violent—Lust. “No.”
“Elijah, do not go to anyone else while I am here. It will break me.” She did not know where she even got the strength to confess that, but she would die if he went to the bed of another woman.
His lashes swept down, hiding his eyes from hers. “I am not going to anyone’s bed, I would never do that, not when…not when I am so knotted up inside by you.”
Her breath hitched. “Then why are you returning to town?”
It was as if a violent wave poured from him, then was quickly contained. He was going back to face Sullivan? Alone? She couldn’t bear the idea. He made to leave and she grabbed his hand. “Elijah, don’t go. The men may still be on the trail and rain is coming.”
“Go inside, Sheridan!”
“I need you, Elijah. Not out there facing God knows what. With me,” she snapped.
He whipped to face her and lifted her in his arms. He stalked with her to the cabin and up the few steps. He paused at the door and lowered her. His thumb brushed her jaw. A light soothing touch skimmed over her and she sank into his caress. “I wouldn’t be gentle Sheridan and right now you need gentle.”
His words had heat uncurling in the pit of her stomach. “I need you. Rough or gentle. I won’t mind rough,” she promised.
His eyes burned with dark heat. He lifted her up and wrenched the door open. She grabbed for his shoulders and buried her face deep in his neck. He kissed the lobe of her ear and with bold strides walked her further into the cabin. With quick movements, he reached the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. He mounted them rapidly taking two steps at a time as she clung to him, her heart jerking in anticipation.
The kiss he pressed into the hollow of her throat was violent with restrained hunger. He slammed open his door and carried her over to the bed, tumbling her down. He flicked up her skirt, gripped her drawers and wrenched. The ripping resounded in her ears and she went slick with need.
Elijah dropped to his knees, drawing her legs over his hips, shifting so that he widened her. He dipped one long finger into the core of her. His eyes narrowed as he felt her wetness. He sank a second finger in her, opening them and stretching her, while unbuckling his pants with his other hand. His length sprung free—heavy and thick.
Her breath sawed. Anticipation skittered along her nerves and settled into the deep heart of her. He gripped her buttocks and drew her onto his knees. He nudged his broad head to her portal and with a jerk of his hip, thrust deep.
“Elijah!” she gasped.
Even though Sheridan was slick with arousal, her muscles burned as they parted under the force of his entry. He took her without restraint. His thrust grew deeper, harder, spearing into the depths of her. He held her gaze and his eyes seemed to pierce her soul as he rode her with deep powerful strokes.
She felt like she was caught in a storm—wild, violent, yet hauntingly beautiful. “That’s so good,” she moaned.
He pressed her into the bed and raised her hips, nudging her thighs wide. He withdrew and plunged into her with such force her body quaked. Reality splintered away as pain and pleasure combined in a tidal wave of sensation, drowning her. Hot stabs of heat coiled in her core and her pleasure rolled through her like a tornado. Elijah drove into her over and over again, lunging deeper with every thrust. She gave him everything that he demanded, unable to hold back or protest, matching him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke. A low keening cry of ecstasy wrenched from her and she fragmented once more. Her heartbeat slowed and her body felt weak and pliant.
“Okay?” he asked, kissing her shoulder, then her neck.
She was too stunned to speak and she could only nod.
He eased from her and cool air washed over her damp skin, making her shiver. She swallowed when she saw that he was still hard and throbbing. “What are you doing?” she asked weak from the pleasure that ravaged her body.
His eyes burned into hers more intense than ever, “I’m not finished yet.”
His mouth took hers, gently. The kiss was unlike any he had ever given her before, raw and hot, yet sweet and compelling. Frissons of pleasure arched over her body to her core, piercing and sweet.
“Lift up,” he murmured, licking the corner of her mouth.
She complied. He worked the skirt off her hips, her camisole and shirt off her body. Her nipples puckered and her mouth went dry as he said hoarsely, “You have no idea how beautiful you are, how sensual.”
He leaned forward and twirled his tongue in her navel, “I am going to pleasure you with my mouth.”
She swung her gaze to his face. “I don’t understand.”
