Cassidy lost her breath, his words sending a rush of emotion through her that resulted in a violent shudder. He groaned out his pleasure at what must have been an added delight for him as her muscles contracted.
Her skin flushed as wave after wave of delirium crashed over her; she wasn’t allowed release, but her body was ramping up higher and higher as he took his time with her. His hand slid up from her abdomen to her breast, massaging, squeezing. She cried out at the added stimulation to what was already sensory overload.
She was so close to begging, to offering anything; she needed harder—faster. The sheen of exertion dewed her skin; her body quaked as she was kept on the edge, so close to slipping, and all she wanted was to go over.
Just as she was about to collapse in a crying heap of raw nerves, Mac adjusted his stance, both hands going to her hips as he delivered a powerful thrust, pulling her firmly back to him. “Don’t want it to end, but I can’t take it.”
Fucking ditto!
He slammed into her again, and she moaned out her approval, already feeling the slip. He began ramming into her with singular purpose, and she was lost—slipped, fractured, destroyed. She cried out against the wood of the wall, hitting it first with her fist, then clawing with her nails; the sensation building; the spasms persistent. A short scream escaped her.
Christ, this wasn’t real; this insane delight, layer upon layer, that was giddy pain, the crescendo of which burst forth in bright white light. And then she was falling. Only she wasn’t, because Mac had her, his arms around her as they sagged against the wall, struggling for air.
It took her a minute to realize he was no longer pumping into her, that his heavy breathing and his tight hold on her meant he’d come, too. When, she didn’t know. Was that bad? Or was it good, that she’d been so transported?
The slickness of his sweat-covered body against hers, the heat coming off him, the heaving of his chest, and the warmth of his breath against her neck, all lulled her into a sense of well-being. That, and the incredible things he’d just done to her, despite his roughness. All she wanted to do was curl up with him and fall into a deep sleep, surrounded by him.
Turning in his arms, she snuggled into him; he allowed it as he caught his breath, his hand rising to the back of her head, cradling her against him. But as she closed her eyes in contentment, he brought her back to reality—his, at least.
“Best fuck I’ve had in a while, sweetheart.”
Cassidy frowned, tensing in his arms, a coolness rushing over her.
“Not how I expected the night to go, but…” He stepped away, dark eyes sweeping over her as she stared at him, silently pleading with him not to say the horrible thing about to come out of his mouth and hurt her. “That’ll teach me to never turn away a lonely widow. My bad for earlier.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest, shielding herself. Yes, she knew he’d already seen her naked. The shield wasn’t for her nudity but her heart, her soul. “You bastard.”
He gave her a confused look, casually removing the spent condom and tossing it into the trash can with expert aim. “Didn’t get what you wanted? Because your scream hadn’t been from pain.”
Cassidy slid past him and went to the towel she’d dropped, crouching down to grab it up, wrapping herself in it as she stood. Chin trembling, she glared as he stood in the middle of the room regarding her with an amused wariness, his hands on his hips, looking so damn proud of himself. “I was already planning on leaving. Your cruelty…” She tore her gaze from his, heading toward the door.
Mac grabbed her arm as she passed; she flinched away from him.
“Day—”
“No!” she insisted, not looking at him. “You don’t get to touch me like that and then treat me like that. I don’t deserve it. Now let go.” She felt him watch her face for a moment, a space of time she studiously glared out the bathroom door, chewing viciously at her bottom lip to keep from breaking.
He said quietly, “You’re still mad at the last man who let go.”
He broke her. She tried to jerk her arm away with a shocked cry even as she rounded on him with her fist flying. “You fucking asshole!”
Mac easily evaded her fist, jerking her toward him as he bent, throwing her over his shoulder. She started screaming, kicking, and pummeling his back, obscenities strung together that would have made a sailor blush combined with a choked sob. He exited the bathroom and walked around the fireplace toward the bedroom.
Fred let out a sharp bark and confused whine. His toenails on the wood floor told her he was rushing her way.
“She’s fine,” Mac snapped out.
Cassidy lifted her head. She glimpsed the distressed expression on Fred’s face before Mac kicked the bedroom door shut behind them.
“Put me down, you fucking piece of shit asshole!”
Mac obeyed, depositing her on his cot. She hit it hard, knocking the breath out of her. She lay there with the towel haphazardly covering her as she stared up at the ceiling, dazed. She gasped a few times to gain her breath. Regaining her focus, she shot Mac a furious glare.
Mac leaned back against his dresser, looking at her, expression closed, jaw tense.
Cassidy took a quick inventory of the room: the cot she was on, the dresser he was leaning against, a footlocker in the corner with a wooden figurine on it, two open windows—the one facing front, the other on the side. Sparse. No mirrors. But still his bedroom, and she was now shut in it. Locked?
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”