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He flattened his hand across her abdomen, then skimmed his fingers down as he used his feet to spread her legs. He settled his fingers into her furrow. He tried to ignore the searing rush as he melted her against him, but it was no use. As if the last three years had been no more than the blink of an eye, he was back in that headspace where nothing mattered more than unraveling her in every perverse way possible.
“Matt!” She trembled.
“I’m here.” And fuck, was she wet. “I’m going to give you what you need.” He slid his free hand beneath her ribs up to her breast. As he pulled on her tight nipple, he began circling her distended clit.
“But…I’ve already asked you for too much,” she panted in protest.
“Stop arguing and come for me.”
Her body jolted. Her back bowed. A loud moan left her lips. The rustling of the sheets mingled with the thunder of his heartbeats to fill his ears. The tip of her breast turned even more rigid. A new gush of her wetness coated his fingers. Madison was restless and on edge, her body strung so tightly Matt doubted she would last another thirty seconds.
He wished he could wrap his arms around her forever.
“I want to touch you,” she keened.
“Later,” he lied. Then he got straight-up honest. “I’ve waited three years to get my hands on you.”
“Yes…” Madison gasped out. “I’ve waited, too. I’ve wished I could feel you so many times…”
Did she mean that or was she simply caught up in the moment? Since they only had until the sun rose, it didn’t matter. As soon as he gave her what he suspected would be a monster, sheet-clawing, throat-rawing climax, she’d fall straight off. Then he could hand her to Nash in the morning. He’d be aching and hard as hell after a miserable fucking night. He’d hate having to let her go again. But he would have the satisfaction of knowing she was safe and rested—at least for now.
Then he would start dealing with a long-term strategy to keep her alive.
Matt shortened his circles around her clit. Her breathing roughened. The female musk of her cunt blended with the scent of her sugary skin and went straight to his head.
“God, the way you feel...” He nipped at her ear before skimming his lips down her neck. “Soft and wet and begging me with those little moans.”
“Matt! I want you inside me. Please.”
Desire contorted him like a torture rack. She had no idea how badly he wanted to fuck his nobility and bury himself inside her. Not just with his cock but in a way that went far deeper. He hurt without Madison. Despite the years and miles, he still felt connected to her, like some invisible thread necessary for him to live and breathe attached them together. Instead of fighting the sensation, for once he gave in, pressing her even tighter to his chest and exhaling across her sensitive skin. She rewarded him with a shuddering cry that told him she was close.
“Don’t you hold back,” he growled in her ear. “Give me that orgasm.”
“But—”
“No, you don’t get to ask me for help, then tell me how to give it to you. I told you to come,” he insisted, eating up every second of her helpless surrender. “Do it!”
Madison shook her head, but her breaths picked up speed…then stopped. Every part of her body went tense seconds before a cry ripped from her throat and zinged around his room. It seemed endless and excruciating. Matt tried to hold himself back—this was for her—but he was dying to roll her to her back and shove his aching cock inside her, meld them together, and fuck her like he had three years ago—as if he owned her.
An agonizing minute later, she let out a final shuddering sigh and fell limp against him. It was done. And he wasn’t getting any other satisfaction tonight.
“Oh, my god,” she breathed. “Matt—”
“Shh.” If she started talking—if she even looked at him with those big, beseeching eyes—he couldn’t guarantee he’d maintain his self-control or his possessive compulsion to lose himself inside her. “Don’t say anything.”
“I just wanted to thank you,” she whimpered.
She was corking her need to cry. Fuck. He might have bled away her tension, but he’d done nothing to make her feel less alone or more cared about. And he couldn’t tackle that now. Hell, he wasn’t convinced repairing the chasm between them was possible—or wise—and he refused to give her false assurances. All he could do now was hope her exhaustion won out over her emotional overload so she could find some temporary peace.
“You can thank me by going to sleep. I’ll watch over you. I’ll keep you safe.”
And he would. That was true. But the debauched side of him that was fixated on Madison alone worried him. He’d better get some distance between them soon, or nothing and no one could keep her safe from him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following morning, Matt stifled a groan as he glanced at the clock. Five twenty. The hellish night pressed against Madison, his nose full of her scent and his body strung fucking tight without relief, was almost over…but so was his time with her. Exhausted and pissed as hell, he rose.
In the last six sleepless hours and multiple views of the video on her USB drive, he’d come to a few inescapable conclusions. First, shuffling her to Nash was a short-term solution. She would never be safe until she was free of the Pershings, and he feared a mere divorce wouldn’t accomplish that. She needed not just protection, but iron-clad insurance.
