Yesterday's Heroes by Heather Long

Author:Heather Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

He speared into her, driving her against the wall. His mind buzzed with raw need. It had taken every ounce of his control not to roll her down on the pavement and drive into her. Mark her. Brand her. Ensure that she knew that she was never to leave him, never to belong to another, that there would never be another.

Mine. It was a primitive thought, from a primitive time and Michael didn’t care. He’d thought to go slow, to let her bathe away the dirt and the aches, to gentle her into the act, to take her carefully. She was so much smaller than he. So vulnerable.

He snorted. Vulnerable. She wouldn’t thank him for that description.

But no, she’d fought against him, her rebellion a challenge he couldn’t turn down. And now, tonight, she fit him perfectly, her body stretching to accommodate him and as deep as he thrust, it would never be deep enough.

He wanted to imprint himself on her skin, burrow into her body, her mind and her soul until there was nothing else.

No one else.

The surges of his hips pounded into her, her body stretched taut. He felt the ripples of her body, the shocking tension and the way her nails dug into his shoulders, the pain urging him deeper and he met her thrust for thrust.

Her orgasm spasmed through her body, squeezing him relentlessly and he stroked his hands over her bottom, slowing the thrusts, but not stopping them. Her head rolled back and her lashes parted to reveal her eyes. The deep violet was nearly pure purple and a savage glee filled him.

He’d put that look there. He dipped his mouth, nipping at the corner of her lips and tasting his way across her face. The hot water sprayed over them, running in rivulets down his back, pooling between them. The aching points of her nipples speared at his chest. He was eager to taste his way across her body, to lick and nip and sample every curve.

The surge of her lower body against his allowed him even deeper access and he growled in satisfaction. Her lips parted, a whisper of sound, a mewling whimper. He froze, his body locked deep against her.

“Does it hurt?” he demanded. Her slender frame wrapped around him. His greater weight pressed her against the wall. Her soft, silken body sheathed him in blistering awareness. He cupped her weight easily in his hands, but carefully tested the strength of his fingers, loathe to mark her fragile body any more than he already had.

Strange how quickly he went from lusting over her in the street, wanting to mark her like some wild animal taking a mate, to considerate tenderness. He wanted to bend her, take her, and drive into her until they collapsed from the pleasure, but he didn’t want to hurt her.

He never wanted to hurt her again.

“So good.” She bit him. Her teeth nipped his jaw. Her tongue rasped over the stubble on his chin. He damned his good intentions, taking over her mouth, tasting, teasing, licking and demanding.

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