For Mason.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” His voice was husky and heavy, as if he too was lost in the moment. The raw need she felt in not just his words, but in his very presence, made her eyes fly to his face.
And she saw, in his eyes, answering emotions to her own; a mirror image of her own desire, her vast need for him, was there for her viewing.
He felt it too, what she felt, this feeling threatening to consume. He didn’t try to hide it. It smoldered in his eyes like a raging fire threatening to consume her in its building flame.
The way he looked at her, as if he could loose his iron control over her, made her feel a surge of extra warmth. Never, ever, had anyone made her feel so female, both in and out of bed, as she did at that moment.
Because of Mason.
Maybe it was his protectiveness or perhaps his gentleness. Or maybe it was just the heat between them. The pure, hot desire that burned every moment they were together. She wasn’t sure. But she liked whatever it was.
Thoughts raced through her mind as she felt the power of their connection, replaying all she knew of him and even of herself. Everything about Mason made her feel what she felt, not just one thing. It wasn’t just physical. There was a bond, a reality beyond the physical.
She liked the way he wanted to take care of her, his strength and pride and pure maleness. It was crazy because she liked her independence. Still, Mason made her wonder how well she really knew herself. Maybe there were things she wanted all along and had ignored.
She touched his jaw, gently running her fingers back and forth. “I still can’t believe what you did back there at the restaurant.”
His reaction surprised her. His hands tensed at her waist as a tortured look flashed across his face. “They would have killed you, Holly. I had to act.” His voice was etched with torment.
Holly realized he had mistaken her comment. She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Of course you did! You were amazing.” She smiled as her voice softened. “My hero.” Her fingers traced the round sensuality of his bottom lip. “You saved my life.”
He swallowed so hard she saw his throat move. As if the feelings were her own, she felt emotion wash over him, painful and alive.
His voice was strained, tense. “Don’t make me into some kind of hero. I’m not.”
Pushing to her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his. “You’re my hero.”
“Holly,” he said, with a barely contained shakiness in his voice. “You have no idea what I am.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted, meaning it. “You’re a soldier.” Her hand moved to his chest, over his heart. “You’re also a good man.” She smiled tenderly. “An amazingly sexy, good man, able to drive me to complete distraction when no one else ever has.”
His expression didn’t ease, remaining tense and worried. “You don’t under—”
Holly kissed him, pressing her lips against his and swallowing his words before flicking her tongue between his teeth for the briefest of moments.
With a low growl that sounded almost strangled, Mason slid his arms around her back, molding her to his body. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling as if her body was having a craving satisfied.
And perhaps it was.
She almost felt as if his touch, his nearness, was a need rather than a want. Though, lord only knew, she wanted.
His lips brushed hers, gently, back and forth, tracing them with his own but not actually kissing her. It was more like he was savoring the feel of her mouth against his, lips brushing lips.
It was highly sensual yet incredibly tender.
He whispered against her lips. Close. Intimate.
Tormented.
“Holly—”
She didn’t want him to feel what he was feeling. What he was, he simply was. She accepted his differences from herself and others.
Even embraced them.
Her father had taught her that opening your mind to the new and unusual was what made you better and stronger.
If they came together to embrace their differences, she truly felt those very things could allow them to be so much more as a couple and as individuals. There was something unique between them. It felt like a union of sorts, linking their uniqueness and lending higher strengths in each. She felt it.
The word soul mate came to mind.
If you could truly have one, Mason was hers.
She knew him beyond the days they had been together. It could be an hour, a day or a year since the day she met him. It didn’t matter.
This thing between them, whatever it was, extended beyond time. There was nothing scientific about her feelings for Mason but she had learned to trust her instincts.
She belonged here, with him. Her heart knew it. Apparently, her body did as well. He called to her on so many levels. She pulled back from their embrace just enough to see his face clearly, pressing her hands against his chest, looking at him with her heart displayed in her eyes. She wanted him to see the truth, to know the reality of her feelings.
“I want you, Mason,” she whispered urgently. “You and no one else. I know you’re a fighter. I’m not going to suddenly decide I can’t deal with who or what you are. I promise.”
He stared at her, his eyes searching her features, probing and still haunted in some way. She had the oddest feeling, as if he reached beyond her mind, to her inner self, seeking.
He made a noise, something primitive and wanting, as his hand wrapped around her neck. He pulled her mouth to his, claiming it with an urgency she completely understood all too well.
She felt it too.
The instant his tongue touched hers, she moaned, feeling a rush of desire well inside. She clung to him, kissing him back with fervent need of her own.
He needed.
She needed.
The combination was potent, raw and almost breathtaking.
His hands slid down her waist to her bottom, cupping it, squeezing, and then pulling her tight against his body. She felt his arousal press against her, making her ache all the more. In her mind, she whispered yes. Knowing he wanted her felt good, right and exciting.
“See what you do to me,” he said as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot behind her ear and then nipped at her lobe with his teeth.
“Thank goodness,” she half-whispered. “I wouldn’t want to feel like this by myself.”
Mason laughed, soft and sexy, before pressing his lips to her neck. She loved feeling some of his tension slip away. Hearing him laugh felt good.
His words were serious though, his laughter gone quickly. “You make me feel all kinds of things I didn’t think I still had in me.”
Holly looked at him then, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I do?” she asked, wanting to know he felt as overwhelmed by her as she did by him. She thought he did but hearing it, well, hearing it just felt better.
“Mmm,” he said, scraping his teeth on her bottom lip. “And hotter than I have ever been for a woman.”
Holly smiled at that. She wanted him hot. Her hands slipped under his shirt, palms pressing against the roped muscles of his abdomen. She loved the hardness of his body, so male.
“You make me bold and needy in ways I never felt before. Like now,” she added. “I really want you to take this wet shirt off. I want to see you.”
He didn’t argue, tugging his shirt over his head with one hand and flinging it to the floor. Holly ran her hands down his shoulders, letting her eyes soak in his perfection.
“I love your body,” she said as her eyes met his.
His returned gaze was frankly sexual. A slow, rather wicked smile slipped onto his lips. Whatever he planned to say or do, and judging from the look in his eyes he had something in mind, she didn’t give him time.
She kissed his chest, small kisses, feathering them all over his warm flesh. Her tongue dipped here and there. Her teeth scraped. Her senses simmered with each and every moment. He smelled like spicy male in a way that made her n
ipples tingle and her body heat. She had never experienced anything like it. His smell absolutely turned her on.
And his taste.
There was a hint of saltiness but the flavor was pure addiction. The way everything about him could impact her on such an extreme level was like nothing Holly had ever experienced before.
Mason stood there, seemingly calm, but she knew better. His heartbeat pounded furiously in his throat, drawing her eyes and giving away the nature of his reaction to what was happening between them.
Which was what? She didn’t know but she wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted what they were together.
He was a man of control and now, with her taking the lead, she sensed he was struggling to remain composed. On some deep level, she knew he battled with a desire to take control rather than give it to her.
And she took his willingness to fight his own internal battle for her as something special.
His breathing was another sign he wasn’t unaffected. It caught in his throat as she scraped his nipple with her teeth. She smiled against his skin, flicking her tongue against the now hard nipple.
She liked being in control.
She wanted more.
She kissed downward, slowing lowering herself to her knees. His fingers touched her hair as she ran her hands down his jean-clad legs. Looking up at him she said, “We should really get you out of these wet clothes.”
Her fingers went to the buttons on his jeans and made quick work of freeing them. Gaze dropping she found the trail of sexy, dark hair from his waistband to his navel. And then her tongue followed.
“Holly, come here.” His voice was husky and laden with desire.
She looked up at him as her hands went to the buttons on his jeans. “No,” she said defiantly. “I want to touch you.”
He grabbed her hands. “You can. I want you to touch me but, right now, you need to get undressed before you catch cold.”
She thought about his request for a long moment and came to a conclusion—it was his way of trying to take control again – consciously or not.
This time, control was hers.
She’d comply with his request, but on her terms and because she wanted to be skin to skin with him.
She leaned back on her heels and peeled off her T-shirt and, before he could respond, her bra.
With a low growl, he hauled her to her feet, covering her mouth with his own, his palms cupping her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples.
So much for control.
She was putty in his warm hands, as they played across her waterlogged skin. Something about Mason’s touch reached inside her, made her feel as if she was floating in a cloud of passion and emotion.
His tongue wildly delved into her mouth, primitive and demanding. She clung to his shoulders as he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks and her neck. Her head fell backwards as her desire began to control her body, making her feel as if she couldn’t stand. As if he read her mind, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up, a strong force of power, control and comfort all in one.
Yet he didn’t hesitate in his actions.
He continued his assault, tearing down her willpower, awakening each and every one of her senses, kissing and touching her like there was no tomorrow.
She murmured his name, wanting more—no, needing it. Her hands went to his pants again, fumbling in her efforts but needing to feel his skin against her own.
Her progress was halted as he scooped her up in his arms.
Chapter Fourteen
Kissing her as he walked, she hardly knew where she was until she felt her body being lowered. He gently placed her on the bed, a soft comforter absorbing her naked back while the hard perfection of his body slid down on top of her.
Spreading her legs without thought, she felt the sweet comfort of his body settling between her thighs, easing her ache in some ways while igniting it in others.
Resting his weight on his elbows, he stared down at her, his eyes dark and passion-filled. But there was more to his look than simple desire. Something stronger, more intense, played in his gaze, making her breath catch in her throat, and a strange flutter moved in her stomach.
Mason touched her cheek and whispered her name. His tenderness amazed Holly. For such a big man, he was so careful, so gentle with her. She actually felt as if she could feel his mind and body reaching for her own.
It was a rush, a powerful, yet strangely soothing, feeling.
The air was literally charged with some strange connection between them. Nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the future, not the government’s super soldiers.
Nothing else mattered but them, now, together.
His index finger and thumb moved through a strand of her hair as he lowered his head, slowly moving his mouth toward her.
Ever so lightly, he brushed his lips across hers. Her eyes drifted shut as the impact of his touch, though light as a feather, raced through her body. A small sound escaped her lips at the contact, floating into his mouth, which lingered above hers, so near, yet not touching her own.
She swallowed, trying to catch her breath and gain her balance. This was a bit overwhelming, feeling so much, on so many levels.
Her eyes slowly opened, locking with his. So real was the connection she felt to him as she stared into his gaze, it was as if he was reaching inside her very soul and filling her with himself.
Suddenly, his hands were in her hair and his mouth closed down on hers, tasting her, once, twice, nipping her bottom lip. A slight flicker of his tongue touched her lip and then her teeth. Finally his tongue met hers in a slow, sultry brush that sent a wave of heat racing through her veins.
His tongue played along hers, sampling, teasing, pushing her into a deeper mode of passion. It was as if he was making love to her with his mouth, reaching out to her with his loneliness and asking her to accept him and want him.
Oh, and she did.
She replied with a tender caress of her fingers down his cheek, a soft purr into his mouth, a gentle prodding of her tongue. Acceptance was automatic. She loved Mason. Some might say it was crazy. She hardly knew him. But she knew he was the man she was destined to love.
She’d been waiting a lifetime.
For him.
For what they were together.
He took his time, kissing her as if he could do it for a lifetime, making her wet with the ache to have him inside her, so near and part of her. She clung to him, kissing him back, pressing her body into his.
He murmured her name, rolling them to their sides, face-to-face, placing small, hungry kisses on her even then. Her leg slid up over his hip as she snuggled close to his body, wrapping her arm around his back. His hand went to her check. His half-lidded eyes met hers, dark as night, alluring and mysterious.
There was scrutiny in his gaze, as if he wanted to confirm what he had felt in her touch and in her kisses. “There is something about you, Holly Heart.”
A soft smile filled her face as her hand covered his. “I think there is something about us, Mason.”
He kissed her then, his mouth hot and demanding as his tongue probed and played against her own. A fiery inferno of demand rushed through her insides. She clung to him, pressing close, feeling her nipples press into the hair on his chest as their skin melted together.
His hand slid up her back, molding her yet closer and closer. Her need was like his need, meshing together like one flame. “Too many clothes,” she whispered against his lips.
“Yes,” he murmured almost instantly, nipping at her lip and then running his tongue across it. “Let’s get rid of them.”
She nodded and made a sound of agreement. A quick, urgent kiss later, they both sat up and began removing first their shoes and then their pants.
When they were both completely naked, they turned to one another. For an instant, their eyes locked, their connection a scorching melting of their two gazes.
Holly wasn’t sure who moved first but, side by side, they came back together, skin a
gainst skin, her thigh over his hip. Their mouths came within inches of each other’s.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he asked in a husky tone as their breathing mingled in and out, causing her nipples to tingle in the strangest way, as if he had touched her there.
“I want you, too,” she replied in a barely audible voice. His erection pressed between her thighs. She needed him inside her. “Please. Now.”