“Yes. They’re my family. I consider them sisters. Cami’s tough, she’ll get out no problem, and the others will follow our lead, but I have one sister who suspects she is already pregnant. We have to get her out of there before he runs his weekly tests on us and actually gets the results. She’s terrified Whitney will find out.”
“We’ll get her out.” Ken didn’t ask which one of the women was pregnant. Mari was already regretting telling him that much information; he could see it on her face and he didn’t blame her. He slid his body down, just a little bit, just enough that she could rest her chin on the top of his head and his face was opposite her beautiful br**sts. Her breath hitched.
Moonbeams from the skylight overhead spilled across her body, illuminating her skin, turning it to cream. He pushed her shirt up further, slowly exposing her br**sts to the cool night air—and his hot gaze. His own breath left his lungs in a heated rush. This woman brought him something no one else had ever done. It wasn’t the combination of lust and need, or even his body springing back to hard, vivid life; it was simple happiness. He felt different when he was with her. Lighter. The memories of the scent and sight of blood, of dark sweat, the sound of his own screams, the rage that never left him, that consumed him until he thought his world was only one of complete darkness, devoid of anything good—she forced it all to retreat, just by her presence. Whitney—the son of a bitch—couldn’t have made that happen with his meddling—it was all too real.
Mari brought up her hands, brushing her fingers through his thick wavy hair. Her body nearly vibrated with the need to feel his hands—and mouth—on her. Her body felt as if it was melting, so soft and pliant he could shape her into anything. Her br**sts tingled when the cool air hit her ni**les like the flick of a tongue, teasing them into twin, upright peaks.
Her fingers fisted in his hair when he shifted again, and she felt the dark five o’clock shadow rasp across her ni**les, sending little jagged streaks of lightning through her bloodstream. “Ken.”
She said his name in a breathy little voice that threatened to shatter his rigid control. Ken thought he had his desire well in hand, but he hadn’t counted on the way her body responded to his. Her bare br**sts were laid out in front of him like a feast, and he drank in the sight of her lush flesh, swollen and flushed with desire, rising and falling with every breath, luring him closer to the tight, pink buds that stood up to beckon him. She wanted him—no, needed him—and that was the biggest aphrodisiac of all.
She didn’t seem to see the scars on his face or body. She touched him, skimmed her mouth down his scarred flesh, as if he was whole. She seemed as ravenous for him as he was for her.
“You’re incredibly beautiful, Mari,” he whispered. “This isn’t Whitney’s pheromones talking. This is me, wanting you so bad I’m almost afraid to touch you.”
“Almost” wasn’t true—he was afraid. If he knew what paradise felt like, could he go back to the barren world of the desert? He stroked his hand between her br**sts, back down her body to her flat belly. Firm muscles played beneath soft skin. He rested his hand over her stomach possessively, fingers splayed wide to take in every inch of her that he could. Beneath his palm, the muscles of her stomach clenched.
She didn’t know home or family. He’d had foster homes and Jack. Hell, they’d been kicked out of a dozen places, run away from more, and yet he was fairly certain he’d had it better than Mari. Briony had been taken from her when they were been small children, and she’d been raised in a brutal, disciplined world. His world had been brutal and disciplined, but he’d had Jack. He’d always had his brother.
He moved the pads of his fingers over her skin, tracing her sexy little belly button. No piercings for Mari. No jewels or fancy clothes. She didn’t have evening gowns or expensive perfume. She had soldier-issue boots and routine camouflage clothing.
With every stroke of his finger, he felt the ripple of response in her stomach, her muscles clenching beneath the small caresses. He could barely breathe with the intensity of his desire. The roar in his ears grew louder. He shuddered with the effort to keep his mind away from the thought of her na**d under him. He might need it, and he sure as hell could make her need it as well, but hot sex wasn’t what was best for her, not right at that moment.
There was a part of him that detested the way lust intruded, so sharp and terrible that he could taste her on his tongue. He was beginning to crave her like a drug he was addicted to. He wanted to comfort and soothe her, to talk about things that mattered to her, but his c**k throbbed and burned for her, stretched to the bursting point, an urgent reminder that he was alive and was more than an infinitely normal man.
Maybe it was the need to show her that beneath the mask he wasn’t all monster—that for her he could push aside his baser animalistic instincts and be a better man. She had nearly died. Technically, although he didn’t think of her as a prisoner, she was one, and that made her vulnerable. He wanted to think about that—had to think about it, in order to keep from climbing on top of her and f**king the brains out of both of them. Once he started, he wasn’t altogether certain he’d ever stop.
“Ken?” Mari’s fingers moved in his hair, massaging his scalp and sending a shudder of awareness down his spine.
“Why is it that whenever a man is doing his best to be noble, his body goes into overdrive and he can’t think with his brains?”
“Has it occurred to you that I might not want you to be noble? I almost died. I have to go back to an existence I don’t even want to think about. This might be my one chance—my only chance—to be with a man I choose.”
“Here? In this lock-down laboratory that is a constant reminder of everything you’ve never had? In this narrow, hard bed? I want you someplace where I can spend hours—days—exploring every inch of your body. Somewhere beautiful with the fire roaring in the fireplace and waterfalls out the window.”
Her breath hitched again, the smallest of reactions, but he caught it. She didn’t believe she would ever have those things, and in that moment, he resolved to make certain she did—that she would have everything he could give her.
Mari shifted again, her br**sts brushing his shadowed jaw. Ken’s body nearly went rigid, every muscle tight and hot, contracting into hard knots. His breath fanned the temptation of her ni**les. He needed her more than he needed the air in his lungs, but once he touched her, once he claimed her, there would be no walking away.
“Mari . . . ,” he tried again, his face, of its own accord, moving that scant inch so that his tongue could dip lower and take one delicious lick along her nipple.
Mari jumped beneath him, her h*ps moving restlessly, her br**sts rising sharply with her indrawn breath, arching into him, into the dark, hot cavern of his mouth. His hand cupped her breast, kneading, as he suckled, using his teeth to sharpen her desire, his tongue to tease and draw out her pleasure.
She made a single sound, a gasp of shock, her h*ps bucking, her hot mound sliding over his thigh in an effort to get some relief. At once, he dipped his fingers lower, to find a furnace of heat. His teeth closed on her nipple with a small bite of pain, as his fingers found her slick entrance, testing her response to his need for a little rougher play. A fresh wave of her heady scent rose and his fingers were damp with her welcome.
Mari’s moan was so soft he barely heard it—but he felt it vibrate through his entire body. His c**k jerked, rubbing against the material of his jeans, swelling to a breaking point. He had to have some relief before he shattered. He switched to her other breast, suckling strongly as his hand slid to his jeans, working them open, sliding them over his h*ps so his enormous erection could spring free. He couldn’t stop himself—his hand sliding over the thick, hard pole, feeling the ridges, squeezing tightly in an effort to create sensation. Hell, he didn’t even know if his equipment really worked anymore.
Teeth teasing the nipple, keeping her pleasure sharp and edgy, he dragged his jeans from his hips. He shifted back, lifting his head from her soft, perfect br**sts, to look at her. Mari lay on the cot, her eyes glazed with desire, lips parted, with her breath rising and falling rapidly. Her br**sts thrust up from the open shirt, her legs bare and sprawled apart, her body open to him. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Her gaze dropped to his fist curled around his thick erection. There was a drop glistening like a pearl on the large, swollen head. Her gaze locked with his, Mari leaned forward and licked it off.
His entire body locked up, a firestorm raging hot and wild, a fever building so fast, so intense, he shuddered, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. Sweat broke out, beading on his brow. She was killing him. Killing him.
He caught her face in his hands and forced her dark eyes to meet his smoldering gaze. “Mari, honey, you have to be sure.” His voice was hoarse. “I’m not going to be able to stop in another minute. I don’t have a damn thing to use as protection and this is bullshit, taking you here. I’m not going to be gentle and loving like you deserve. And I don’t want to hurt you. I’m so damned afraid of hurting you, but I swear I’ll give you more pleasure than you’ve ever had in your life. If you can’t do this with me, go all the way, take everything I need to give you, you’ve got to tell me to stop now and I swear to you, I’ll find the strength to leave you alone.”
“Ken, please,” she whispered, her dark eyes pleading. “I want you so much I can’t think straight. This is our moment. We have to take it or it may never come again. Give me this, give me a memory, something real, to last me forever.”
He took her lips. He tried for gentle, but the moment he slid his tongue into the velvet darkness of her mouth, he was lost in a haze of madness. Lust rose, so sharp and terrible it consumed him, ate him alive. He took her mouth, giving in to the demons riding him so hard.
Hard hands held her still. Mari was shocked at his enormous strength, at her own sudden arousal at his aggression, so hot and fast and hard, shaking her body before she was ready, almost pushing her into an orgasm before he’d really touched her. His ragged breath was harsh as he bit at her lip, his teeth and tongue doing wild things to her mouth until she couldn’t see, let alone think.