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Carson stood, lifting her up and repositioning her on the bed. His cock seemed to loom above her before he covered her body with his, settling between her legs, making a place for himself there. He pressed her into the mattress, and she wound her legs around him, bringing her arms up to encircle his neck. His cock was poised at her entrance, nestled there as if it had been like this with them a thousand times before. He looked down at her, lowering his head to capture her mouth as he thrust inside her, deep and hard and held himself still, allowing her to accommodate to his size and to being filled by him. She gasped and her eyes widened before narrowing to the hooded gaze of a woman enjoying what was being done with her body. His cock was perfect inside her, and she moved her hips in invitation.
Dragging his cock back until it was almost out, he surged back in with power and grace. She shifted her arms so they came up under his and she could grasp his shoulder blades and trail her nails down his back. He chuckled as over and over again, he stroked in and out.
“God yes,” she moaned.
That seemed to take the leash off him, and he began to pound inside her—fucking her hard, driving into her over and over again, holding her hips so that he could force himself deeper. She could feel nothing but pleasure and connection. The obvious one being his cock up inside her, but there was something more, something more binding and far more meaningful than just a hard cock inside her soft and yielding pussy.
She tightened around him with little to no warning, calling his name as he gave her a final, brutal thrust, burying himself up to his balls as he emptied himself into her, bathing her pussy with his warmth.
“Mine,” he purred as he rolled from her body, dragging her to his and drawing the covers up around them.
He was a possessive and dominating bastard—she had to give him that, but somehow, she didn’t mind. She found her head fit perfectly in the crook of his shoulder with her hand splayed on his chest. She knew she should say something, but instead she burrowed closer against him, allowing the resonating purr that seemed to be a part of him to settle over them. She was drawn into the land of Morpheus, and reality and wakefulness slipped peacefully away.
CHAPTER9
AMELIA
When she woke, the cabin was shrouded in darkness. The only light came from the fireplace as the logs crackled merrily, the flames feeding on each other and the wood. She lay listening to the strong, steady beat of Carson’s heart. If they were in any place but here, she’d just slip out of the bed and be gone before the sun’s first rays kissed the sky, but that wasn’t a possibility. She was snowbound in a cabin with a man she knew little to nothing about.
There was something different about what had happened. Forget the fact that she barely knew him. Forget the fact that he hadn’t been wearing a condom—she was on birth control, but still they should have at least talked about safe sex. Forget the fact that they were snowed in and were healthy adults with strong libidos. Forget the fact that the sex had been good; no, that wasn’t true. The sex had been amazing. None of that mattered.
The difference wasn’t in what had happened but in how she felt. Not the stupid, gooey feelings that wanted to bubble up within her. Amelia was entertaining none of that because of all of the ‘forget’ reasons she’d just listed. No, the difference in how she felt physically was the big difference. For one thing, earlier in the day she’d felt her life slipping away. She’d been aware that he was doing everything in his power to cure her. After all, he’d saved her from certain death when he’d pulled her from the sinking plane.
Not only did she no longer feel sick or weak, but she also felt as if something fundamental had shifted within her. Not just her feelings or her fever breaking, but something deep and important. Something basic and profound. The image of the snow leopard prowled in her mind, and she remembered it saying, ‘we are one.’ What the hell did that mean? And why had Carson and a larger, presumably male snow leopard been in the same dream? It had been an odd, yet not confusing dream.
Why was that? Shouldn’t a dream that made no sense be confusing? Instead, this one had been comforting and as she thought about it, it seemed to settle something within her. She focused inward, finding the snow leopard and looking at it. It quit prowling, laid down and cleaned its paws before regarding her with a like measure of curiosity.
Amelia didn’t hold the snow leopard’s gaze and shook her head to try and clear it. Before the image dissipated, she was fairly certain the thing was laughing at her. She reached beneath her hair and found what she really wanted to believe had just been part of a dream—two holes in the back of her neck about the width and size of a pair of fangs from a large cat. How the hell was that even possible?
She needed space—space to think and to check out how badly she’d been bitten—if she’d been bitten at all. As far as she knew, what felt like two puncture wounds could be something entirely different. Amelia wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t about to just jump to the conclusion that she had been bitten by an endangered species that had no business being in Alaska just because she’d seen it in a dream or a delusion or a hallucination of whatever the hell that was.
Maybe that was it. Maybe Carson had slipped her some hallucinogenic in what he’d been ladling down her throat, and she was on a bad trip from an illicit substance. She warmed to the idea that she’d been drugged and none of what she’d felt happened or how she was feeling was really pertinent to her reality—she was trapped in a cabin with some guy she didn’t know. Maybe he’d given her ecstasy or Rohypnol, or one of the other so-called date-rape drugs were responsible for her uninhibited response. She didn’t want to believe that of Carson. Maybe they’d both been drugged.
That had to be it. It accounted for the damn buzzing in her head that seemed to have left her. Maybe they’d been kidnapped by some sick cult and were being held here against their will and being force fed drugs that kept them from making rational, informed decisions. She nodded to herself. As farfetched as that sounded, it actually made the most sense.
She needed to talk to Carson. Perhaps he had a better grasp on the situation. Still, there was something to be said about not being in the same bed with him when she asked. If she could just manage to get off the bed, she could grab a sweater and curl up on the sofa by the fire. She had barely managed to roll away from him, when his hand smacked her bare ass before closing like a vice around her waist.
“Don’t,” he growled.
Amelia reached down to try and pry his fingers loose. When that didn’t work, she turned in his arms and took his bicep firmly in her teeth and bit down.
“Shit!” he snarled, spinning away from her and up off the bed.
Amelia rolled into a sitting position and stood up, turning to face him with the bed between them. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“You bit me,” he accused.
“You bit me first,” she returned.
“That was different.”
“So, you don’t deny it?”
“Well, it’s not like you could bite the back of your neck yourself, and we’re the only ones here.”
“You bit me.” The accusation was now on the other foot.
Carson brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his neck, picked up his jeans from the end of the bed and pulled them on.
