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Pulling into the drive, Nik had to fight to hold back the fear still crawling through his system. Seeing Luke Nelson's arm around her neck, that gun pointing toward her, had nearly destroyed his soul. If anything had happened to her . . . Leaving the truck, he moved around to the passenger side, opened the door, and 219
helped her out. Clasping her waist with his hands, he nearly didn't set her on her feet. He almost carried her to the house, desperate to keep his hands on her. He wasn't going to make it.
He could feel it. The fear and hunger were ripping through him, making it impossible for him to hold on to his self-control.
He didn't let her go.
Swinging her into his arms, feeling her hands grip his shoulders in surprise, Nik carried her to the house. Unlocking the door took a few seconds longer. Locking it back was almost forgotten as she buried her face in his neck and he felt her tears. Tears she hadn't shed at the height of the danger. Tears she hadn't allowed him to see in the truck.
What would happen to him if he lost her?
Nik knew he would never be able to survive if Mikayla was taken from his arms. He didn't set her down on her feet until he reached the bedroom. Then he still didn't put her on her feet. He laid her back on the bed and proceeded to slowly, easily, remove her clothing before tearing his own from his body.
He had to touch her. He had to feel her.
Ah, God.
"Never again." The words tore from Nik's throat as he came over her, his lips burrowing in her neck. "Never again, baby. Sweet God, it won't happen again." There was no time for preliminaries, no time to get a handle on himself or to balance the combination of hunger, rage, and fear that whipped through his system. His lips covered hers as he felt her arms wrap around him, holding on to him tight, so tight. But nothing was as tight as the hold she had on his soul. Nothing as warm as the pure, sweet heat of her flesh against his, her lips moving beneath his, her tongue dancing with his.
"Sweet Mikayla," he groaned, his lips moving to her neck, his tongue stroking her flesh, tasting her as he moved desperately between her thighs, parting them, lifting them to his hips as he pressed against the slick, silken folds of her pussy. Her flesh parted, giving and soft beneath the iron-hard head of his cock. Pressing inside her, he breathed out roughly as he felt her inner muscles begin to clench and tighten around him.
Nothing was so sweet, so beautiful, as his little fairy.
Lifting his head, staring down at her, he watched her face as he took her. Watched the soft heat that filled her gaze, the sensuality that overwhelmed her expression. Sweet Lord, he could never live without this again. How the hell could he ever live without her touch, her laughter, without the pure unbridled hunger she filled him with?
"Hold me." The words were torn from him; he couldn't hold them back as she took him, the milking sweetness of her pussy wrapping around his cock. It flexed, rippled, held him like the sweetest, tightest glove.
"I'll always hold you." Her voice, her vow, washed over him, locked her inside his soul.
He had to leave her. When it was over, when he'd taken this last taste of sweetness that he would allow himself, then he had to leave. It was the only way to protect her. It was the only way to ensure . . .
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How?
Pushing in to the hilt, he groaned her name. God knew he meant to hold back. He needed to hold back. He needed to be strong enough to leave her, but how the hell was he supposed to do that?
Live without this?
His cock was buried in pure, liquid heat. It clenched around him; tight muscles stroked the sensitive head, tightened around the shaft as her juices dampened his balls. He wanted to hold inside her forever, to feel nothing but her hot, tight pussy flexing around him. But each subtle stroke pierced his control, frayed it, until he had to move.
He'd go slow, he promised himself.
As he moved back, his teeth clenched at the slow drag of her silken grip against his cock.
He was losing it.
The pleasure was ripping through him. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't hold back.
"Fuck. Baby." The growl that tore from him came with a hard thrust of his hips, and then it was over.
Pushing inside her, stroking into her, he began throwing them both into the maelstrom of pure hot bliss.
It overtook him. He could feel it overtaking her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck. With each thrust inside her, she arched upward with her hips, taking him deeper, taking him harder.
He was wild with the need for her. Crazy for her touch.
Nothing had ever hit him so hard or taken him with the power with which she was taking him, accepting him. He'd never known pleasure like he knew with her at the moment he felt her unraveling around him. Her pussy tightened, her juices flowed, and she shuddered in his arms as he felt her coming, felt her losing herself to the pleasure he gave her.
