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"Claire!" He took the remaining steps at a run, catching me around the waist and dragging me away from the edge.
"I'm okay. "
"You're not. What happened?"
"Besides your breaking into my house and scaring the shit out of me?"
"Yes. " He stared into my face, frowning. "Besides that. "
How did he know? Had he read my mind? Or had he been in the forest earlier with a gun?
No. If Malachi had shot Balthazar, he would have told me so. He knew what Grace suspected, and he hadn't been shocked by it. I told him everything.
When I was through, he carried me to my room, then kicked the door shut be
hind us. He set me gently on the bed, turned the bedside lamp on low, then lay at my side.
"I could have lost you," he whispered.
"You believe me?"
"I've seen so many things, a stor, so many. A man who turns into a beast?" He lifted one shoulder. "I'm certain it could happen. " Malachi gathered me into his arms. "I should never have let you out of my sight. "
Oddly, his need to protect me didn't make me want to shriek and break free as it had when my father had tried it. Because something had changed in me? Or because I'd gone out in the big bad world and realized I needed protecting? Perhaps it had happened when I'd come home to be safe and discovered I wasn't.
"You can't be with me every minute," I said. Soon he wouldn't be here at all.
The thought made my throat clench. Oh boy. I hadn't gone and fallen in love with him, had I? That would be stupid. Of course, in matters of men, "stupid" seemed to characterize me.
Malachi's dark eyes stared into mine as if he knew my thoughts. I just wanted him to kiss me, to make me forget.
Did I lean toward him? Did I pucker up? Regardless, he took my face in his big, hard, dark hands and pressed his lips to mine.
He tasted me as if he never had before, nibbling gently, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, then sweeping his tongue across my teeth. His fingers tangled in my hair; mine tangled in his. My thumb brushed against his earring, and it swung to and fro, catching the lamplight and reflecting sparkles across the ceiling like falling stars.
I tugged at his blousy white shirt until it came loose from his black pants, then ran my hands all over his warm, smooth skin. Maybe my near-death experience had made me bold, or maybe he just did, because I reached between us and cupped him, rubbing my thumb down the length of his erection until he grabbed my wrist. "Keep that up and we'll be done afore we start. "
He left me to kick off his boots, lose the pants and socks, then stood at the end of the bed hesitantly. "May I undress you, a chroi?"
His voice was so quiet; his eyes fell as if he expected me to say no, to continue to hide my body from him as if I were ashamed. But I didn't ever plan to be ashamed again.
"Yes," I whispered.
His gaze lifted, both hope and wariness alight in his eyes. "You're sure?"
"Completely. "
He sank down on the bed and reached for the buttons of my blouse, opening each one so slowly I wanted to help him. Now that I'd agreed to making love in the light, I wanted it to happen. I wanted nothing to stop us, especially a last-minute panic attack.
When the last fastening opened and my blouse fell away, the heat of his gaze was a caress. He trailed one finger down the center of my stomach, then hooked it in my slacks and flicked the single button at the waistband. He drew the zipper lower, the sound loud in the pulsing silence.
My pants descended, the slither of cloth on skin making me shudder with both reaction and anticipation. Then he bent his dark head and kissed me, hot and eager against the thin nylon of my panties.
I arched, and his mouth became hard, demanding; his beard, rough at the end of the day, added another sensation against the most intimate part of me. My body tightened, and he retreated, hooking his fingers in my underwear and tossing them with the rest of our clothes on the floor.
The only item of clothing that remained was my front-clasp white cotton bra. I wished momentarily that I'd worn sexy underwear, but it was a foolish wish since I didn't own any. I'd never been the type. But perhaps, with him, I could be.
I figured he'd flip the catch, release my breasts, indulge in a little foreplay, and since my body was already singing from the slow, sensual assault of his hands and his mouth, anything he wanted right now was fine with me.
