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He leaned over her, thinking a few calm words and a touch might soothe her back to restful dreams without actually waking her up. “Shh. You’re okay, baby. Everything’s okay.”
She kicked at the blankets and her cry got louder. Started to take shape. “Nnnnn…”
So much for not waking her up. Light from the hall filtered into the bedroom, and he could see her tear-streaked cheeks plain enough. “Madison.” He shook her shoulder gently as he said her name.
She came out of the nightmare swinging. “No!” A fist connected with his chest. The other bounced off his shoulder and smacked knuckles-first into the headboard. “Oof. Stay away. Stay away from her. I’ll kill you…I’ll kill you…”
Or die trying. On that grim thought, he threw a leg over her hips, caught her flailing arms, and pinned them to the pillow on either side of her thrashing head. “Madison, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”
“I’ll—” Her eyes flew open and slowly focused on him. “I…oh, my God. Joy?”
“She’s over there, in her bed.” Miraculously, still asleep. He loosed his hold on her wrists and kissed her forehead. “You had a dream.”
She blinked. A shudder shook her. “A dream?”
He kissed one wet cheek then the other. “A bad one.”
Her shaky exhale feathered over his neck while her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders. “Very bad.” She clung tight. “I woke you. I’m sorry.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She shook her head but then sighed. “I can’t be sorry I ever met him, because without him I wouldn’t have Joy, but I want him gone. Forever. I have never had a hateful thought about anyone. I wasn’t raised that way, but…”
“Let me handle the hateful thoughts.” He pressed a kiss to her parted lips and tamped down on his body’s automatic reaction. She needed comfort. “Let me handle all of it. You don’t have to worry. You’re safe. Joy’s safe. I promise.”
“Okay.” She nodded but didn’t release her hold on him. Instead, her soft, damp mouth slid along the curve of his shoulder, and he felt his self-control slipping away.
“Madison…”
“Help me forget, Hunter.” Her tongue traced a line up his throat. “Make me stop thinking. Please.” In contrast to her whispered plea, she nipped his jaw, hard, and ground her hips against his. “Fuck the ugliness right out of my head. Replace it with something honest and good.”
The raw need in her words overrode every bit of sound judgment he possessed. He reached between them, took hold of the hem of her T-shirt, and dragged it up her body. She let him, without so much as a whimper of protest, which told him how far fear had transported her beyond her normal concerns. As soon as he swept the shirt over her head, she sealed her lips to his and kissed him with hot, reckless urgency. Her tongue raced around his mouth. She arched against him, again and again, until self-preservation had him flexing his hips and pinning hers to the bed.
“Slow. Slow. We need to go slow.”
Her chin squared. She brought his hand to her breast and squeezed a lot harder than he’d ever dare.
“Jesus. Hold on.” Of course she didn’t listen. Their hands tangled in a haste to work his briefs down. By the time he kicked his feet free she’d already ditched her yellow panties. He wasn’t even sure how, but he suspected she’d torn them off. He reared up on all fours and reached for a condom.
“Hurry,” she murmured when he sat back. Then she wrapped her hands around the base of his cock and got herself a firm grip. A quick, rough squeeze followed and he nearly fumbled the condom.
“Fuuuuck, Madison. You do that again, we’re not gonna need the rubber, ’cause I’m going to come all over us.”
She closed her eyes, either out of impatience, or to let the image of him exploding like a geyser simmer in her imagination. He used the moment to roll the condom on and then prepared to reverse their positions by sliding his arm around her waist, using the small of her back as a tunnel.
“No
.” She bent her left leg and braced her foot on his hip. She angled her right leg out and dug her heel into the mattress. “I don’t want it like that.” Hall light reflected in her eyes, giving them a feverish glint. “I want it like this.”
The muscles in his legs and hips quivered with the urge to thrust into her. Fold those slender legs back until her knees brushed her earlobes, and give it to her exactly the way she wanted. “It’s too soon.”
She tipped her head and looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like I’m fragile or weak.” Her fingers curled into the comforter and she raised her hips. “Treat me like I’m strong. Like I can handle anything.”
Hell. She’d managed to wrap a lot of self-validation up in what he’d once considered a relatively uncomplicated sex position. But still… “How about we start with you on top, and I’ll flip us around after—”
“No.”
“Or I put you on your hands and knees, and you keep your pretty little ass in the air for as long as you please?” And crawl away if the action got too rough.
