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He wanted to take care with Corinne. He wanted to be gentle with her after all the abuse she'd known from other males. And so he held himself to a controlled pace, even as she was coming apart beneath him, every sweet convulsion of her sex a hairbreadth from undoing him. He kissed her and caressed her, holding her close against his body, thrusting and withdrawing with utmost restraint until her climax reached its crest and began to ebb. Her breath trembled near his ear. Then it hitched softly and he felt a warm moisture against his cheek. She shuddered in his arms again, and through the dizzying haze of his pleasure, he realized she was crying.
"Corinne," he gasped, drawing back to look at her in concern. He froze, unable to move in the face of her tears. "Ah, God. I'm hurting you - "
"No," she whispered around a quiet little sob. "No, this doesn't hurt at all. It feels so good. You're making me feel something I've never known before, Hunter. I didn't know it could be like this. It's overwhelming how good you feel to me right now. I don't want it to end."
Relieved that she was all right, he kissed her and settled back into his rhythm. That she was weeping with pleasure because of their joined bodies made him want to pound his chest with his fists and roar his pride to the rafters. It was a strange impulse, animalistic and possessive and raw, but he felt all those things and more when he gazed down at Corinne's tear-streaked, beautiful face, her breath puffing softly from between her parted lips as he rocked into her with long, indulgent strokes.
She moaned as he found a stronger tempo, her short fingernails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him. Her thighs circled his hips, pulling him into a tighter hold against her body. Her wet heat gloved him so firmly, wringing him inside out as a furious wave began to build and swell at the base of his cock.
He tried to hold it back. He growled with the force of his will, but it wasn't enough. Corinne's body continued to milk him, driving him toward a fevered pace that only made him hunger all the more. He thrust deeper with each hard stroke, faster, until the coiled pressure snapped its leash and roared through him like fire in his veins.
He bit back the shout that would have rattled the house, burying his face in the curve of Corinne's delicate neck as his whole body jerked and convulsed and the first true orgasm of his life jetted out of him in a scalding stream of release.
He murmured something unintelligible as his cock spasmed with delicious intensity against the tight, warm sheath of her sex. He couldn't hold back the ragged curse, no more than he could hold back the instant reanimation taking place inside her. He was hard again, every nerve ending enlivened and ready to start all over.
Corinne's fingers trailed lazily across his back as she moved subtly beneath him, a wordless invitation he wasn't about to refuse. "You don't need a moment to catch your breath?"
she asked, a sensual smile in her eyes when he glanced down at her.
"All I need right now is more of this," he growled. "More of you."
"I need that too." Her arms looped around the back of his neck and she drew him toward her for a slow, heady kiss. Her tongue teased the seam of his lips and he was lost. Hunter thrust deep, inch by inch, filling her up. There was no staving off his desire for her now. No amount of discipline strong enough to hold him in check now that he'd had a taste of true pleasure with Corinne. Cupping her breast in his palm, he returned her fevered kiss, their tongues tangling as their bodies undulated in a shared rhythm, giving and taking with equal measure.
Chapter Twenty-four
She broke first, panting and moaning, her graceful spine arching up beneath him as her sex clenched his in a rippling fist of sensation. His own release was right behind hers. He shuddered hard, driving home with a need so fierce it owned him.
As he gathered her close and felt the hot rush of his seed erupting deep within her, Hunter knew a bliss that eclipsed everything else. He entertained - just for a split second - the notion of living a normal existence, without the dark past that had shaped him. He wondered - pointlessly, his logic warned him - what it might be like to have a female at his side, to experience what some of the other warriors had with their mates.
It was a dangerous indulgence, dreaming. But no more dangerous than the sudden rush of protectiveness, of primal possessiveness, he felt when he thought about Corinne. He'd killed for her tonight, and he would do so again without hesitation, if he thought she might come to harm. And in the back of his mind, as he sated himself in her body and took his comfort in her tender arms, he wondered if he might be the biggest threat to her happiness of all.
Dante paced the corridor outside the compound's infirmary, trying not to think about the fact that his beautiful, courageous Tess was in utter agony on the other side of the door. She'd been in labor all night and now, well into the morning. The contractions had only been worsening, growing more and more frequent with every passing hour.
Tess was handling the whole thing like a champ.
As for him, every time he heard her groan with the onslaught of another labor pain, he thought for sure he was going to pass out cold.
Which is why he'd finally removed himself to the hallway a short time ago. Probably the dead last thing Tess needed was to watch him become white as a sheet at her bedside, his knees turning into jelly beneath him.
Through the blood bond they shared, he felt Tess's pain as his own. He wished like hell he could shoulder it all himself. Pain? He could handle that, no problem; it was the idea that the female he loved was suffering that made him want to either punch something or vomit in the corner. But he felt Tess's strength too, and he marveled at the tenacity - the purely miraculous feminine strength - that gave his mate the stamina to continue fighting through the exhaustion and the prolonged agony that was required to bring their child into the world. He took a quick glance through the small window of her infirmary room. Gabrielle and Elise stood on either side of the bed. They'd come in a few hours ago and had been taking turns holding Tess's hands, mopping her forehead with a damp cloth, and feeding her ice cubes as the process dragged on seemingly without end. Gideon was monitoring her vitals - under his solemn oath to Dante that he would do so with his eyes closed, lest he see any more of Tess than Dante was comfortable sharing.
The best part of the whole setup, though, was Savannah. She was handling the delivery, her long family background in such things giving Dante the reassurance he needed that everything was going to be fine in the end. At least, he hoped to God everything was going to be okay.
Meanwhile, he felt pretty damn useless himself.
He took another back-and-forth stroll of the hallway, wondering where the hell Harvard was when he needed him.
If he'd been there now to see Dante hanging in the corridor like a green-gilled ghost, Chase would have busted his balls from now to next week. He'd have shamed Dante for being a straight-up wuss, would have drop-kicked him back into the infirmary if that's what it took. Shit. Dante truly missed the smart-ass warrior who'd been his tightest friend in the Order for the past year and some change.
Ex-warrior and former friend, he mentally amended, still pissed as hell over the whole fucked-up situation. It didn't soften his opinion any that Chase had phoned in last night to let them know he'd gone against Lucan's direct orders and hunted down Murdock on his own. And for what? Aside from a vague mention of Dragos's possible interest in a local politician, the most solid piece of intel Chase had managed to squeeze out of the bastard was the day-late/dollar-short fact that Dragos was looking to get a bead on the compound's location. News the Order was all too well aware of already.
From what Tegan had relayed to everyone about his brief conversation with Chase, it didn't sound like they should be counting on hearing from him again anytime soon - if ever. Tegan was of the opinion that Chase was on a serious downward slide. He'd mentioned the word
"Rogue," something neither Dante nor any of the other warriors were eager to accept but found themselves hard-pressed to contradict.
Dante paced another hard track in the hallway, raking his hand through his dark hair and grinding out a muttered curse. It was past time he started getting used to the idea that Harvard was no longer a part of the Order. He was no longer a part of their lives. Dante felt like kicking himself over the conversation he'd had with Tess recently about naming Chase as godfather to their son. He'd had to work pretty hard to persuade her that Chase could be relied upon for something that important, and now the son of a bitch had gone and made him look like a jackass for even suggesting him.
In the end, Tess's instincts in that area had proven a lot better. Gideon had been stunned by their request, and both he and Savannah had accepted the responsibility with grace and conviction. If anything should happen to Dante and Tess, they couldn't hope for better guardians for their son.
