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She wore a lacy white bra that did nothing to hide the swollen mounds of her breasts, or the spiked tips of her nipples.
“Have I mentioned I love your nipples?” He released the catch between her breasts before peeling the cups back from the rapidly rising and falling mounds.
“Not in a while.” She was panting now. He loved it when she panted for him. “We need to discuss things, Joe. Not have sex.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to remember to mention that. And nothing else matters, Maggie, not right now. The rest we’ll deal with as we have to.”
He lowered his head, licking over one straining tip with a slow, wet glide of his tongue, as he heard the tremulous gasp that left her lips.
That was how he liked her, soft and melting in his arms, those strangled little gasps falling from her lips as pleasure began to overwhelm her. Words would never convince her at this point that he trusted her. That trust would have to come in time, and he understood that. He expected it. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t edge the odds in his own favor. Her body knew what her mind hadn’t yet accepted. She belonged to him just as surely as he belonged to her.
“Joe, are you sure?” Her short nails were digging into his wrists, her gaze worried, but growing hotter by the second.
“More certain than I’ve been of anything, baby.” He laid his hand on her lower stomach, watching her closely. “Certain enough to want more with you than I have ever wanted with anyone else.”
He didn’t give her time to answer, or time to protest. He had never known anything as sweet or as erotic as loving Maggie. She was like a drug in his system, one he had no hope of breaking his addiction to. And God knew he had tried.
He had fought the arousal, the need, and his belief in her for nearly a week. And even as he fought it, he had known it was a losing battle. Just as he had known as he watched her interrogation through that two-way mirror.
His lips covered hers as he drew in the sobbing response to his declaration, his tongue tasting the sweetness of her passion as he pushed the bra from her shoulders before moving to her jeans.
He wanted her naked. Naked and open for him, welcoming him with all the sweet, generous fire that was so much a part of her.
Clothes were ripped, torn, pushed at, and pulled off until only bare flesh met eager hands and muted moans met open-mouthed kisses that filled the senses with aroused, imperative demands.
Hunger arced through Joe’s mind as Maggie’s hand attempted to wrap around the base of his cock. Her fingers didn’t quite meet, but that didn’t detract from the sheer pleasure of her touch.
As always, nothing mattered except pushing inside her, taking her, feeling her orgasm pulsing around him. He didn’t bother with the bed or the floor. His hands moved to her buttocks and he lifted her and bore her to the table.
Maggie was fighting to breathe as the overwhelming pleasure rushed through her with a force that swept through her senses like wildfire. All she felt was the heat and demand, a need pulsing through e
very cell of her body as she clutched Joe to her.
She felt the cool wood of the table meet her back as Joe came over her. He didn’t bother with keeping his feet on the floor. Instead, he clambered to the tabletop after her, knees bent, his hips thrusting against her, driving the hard wedge of his cock deep into the fiery heat between her thighs.
There was little grace to the act, even less finesse. The clawing hunger, fear, and desperation that spurred their passion allowed for only the most primitive response. She felt the fierce width of his erection sear the tender tissue of her vagina, and arched closer. The fiery pleasure-pain whipped through her nerve endings, ricocheting through tissue and muscle until every cell of her body was focused on one point only. The penetration of her body, the hard, fierce thrusts of his cock inside her, and the fiery sensation tightening her womb with every thrust.
Orgasm was imperative. With each stroke he threw her higher, seemed to go deeper, until every sense she possessed became focused on the steady impalement.
Perspiration gathered between their bodies, creating an exciting friction as they slid against one another. The heat building between their bodies had them both panting for air, forced to break off the kiss that had consumed them as they fought for breath.
Maggie struggled to open her eyes, staring up at Joe as his hands gripped her hips to hold her in place and the strokes pistoning his cock into her vagina increased. The cords in his neck stood out in sharp relief as the tendons of his arms and chest rippled with power.
He was as out of control now, as he had been earlier that morning. As though once lost, the power to hold himself distant, in this area at least, was gone forever.
The ability to think receded as he whispered her name, his eyes opening, his gaze spearing hers.
“I love you, Maggie.” The words were torn from him, ripped from his chest in a growling, harsh sound that spiked through her womb and sent her release crashing through her.
Maggie felt the involuntary arching of her back as the wave of sensation tore through her with pleasure that bordered on violence. It exploded through every nerve ending in her body and sent convulsions crashing through her womb, as her pussy began to milk desperately at his cock. Nothing mattered but the pinnacle of pleasure, the sweeping completion she had only found in this man’s arms, and a love she knew she could never survive without. Not intact. Not completely. She would live, but without Joe, Maggie knew her soul would never breathe.
In that moment, as she felt him surge inside her one last time before his own release began to spurt heatedly inside her to join her own, Maggie knew that never again could she hope for love outside of Joe’s arms. Because to her heart, her soul, Joe was love. He was life.
chapter 10
the drive from the cabin to Atlanta was made after dark, and to Maggie it seemed as though it had taken a lifetime to accomplish. Each mile crept by despite Joe’s steady speed and his attempts at a conversation. Maggie wanted nothing more than to get to his house, to check the car, and to get the hell out of there.
As Joe pulled slowly into the alley behind the two-story older home, Maggie glanced over at him nervously. She had seen the house before, though Joe rarely stayed at it, preferring the apartment he kept farther in town. The house had belonged to his father’s parents, and had been their home before his grandfather struck it rich in various business enterprises.
