Home > Locke (Corps Security #5)(17)

Locke (Corps Security #5)(17)
Author: Harper Sloan

“Oh, God!  Oh, fuck.  Yes!  I’m going to come, Mad!” she screams while her pussy convulses against my shaft so forcefully that I falter in my glide out of her body.  More wetness seeps from her core and roll down my thighs—proof of what I did to her.

Her body starts to go limp in my arms, and with a few more thrusts, I submerge my cock as deep as I can into her body and come so violently that my knees buckle.  Not once in my awkward fall to my ass do I let go of her body.

I’ve had a slice of heaven and it’s going to kill me to give it up.

Chapter 10—Emmy

It takes my mind a lot longer than I care to admit to come back to Earth.  Sex with Maddox is everything I thought it would be.  All those times I rolled my eyes when reading a book and the heroine would claim that the Earth moved suddenly make sense.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt pleasure as intense as that in my life.  Well, obviously¸ considering I’ve only had one other sexual partner in my life.

I shudder when I think of Shawn, and Maddox’s arms tighten around me.  He doesn’t belong here.  I know it seems like I should be upset or at the very least traumatized from what Shawn did to me, but I’ve promised myself to move forward.  To not let him take anything else from me.  And with Maddox’s hands on my body, every thing else just falls away.  It just feels right.

“Cold, Em?”

I give him a halfhearted grunt no and snuggle deeper into his chest.  The short hairs under my face tickle and I smile.  When his arms tighten again, I let out a contented sigh.

He holds me for a few minutes, his cock starting to soften inside me, and I moan with a weak protest when he slips from my body.

“Jump up, Em.  Let me get this condom off and let’s sleep.  We have a lot we need to talk about tomorrow.”

For once, I don’t fight him on the issues that are still hanging over us.  I’m not willing to give up this moment of peace between us.  I have no illusions that this is some big ‘ah ha’ moment for us.  Things between Maddox and me have never come easy, and just because we let the heat of the moment carry us this far doesn’t in any stretch of the imagination mean he’s going to profess his love for me.

I’m starting to think he just isn’t wired to love.  Either that or he just really doesn’t feel the same way for me that I do for him.

I clean myself up and take a few seconds to clear my mind.  If this night is all I get with him, then I’m going to ride the wave as long as I can.  Morning is just a few short hours away and I don’t want to waste a second I can spend in his arms.

He’s standing against the wall when I open the door, his jeans still unbuttoned and the zipper down.  Unfortunately, his cock isn’t still out, because Lord knows I would love to get a good look at what I felt.  I avoid his gaze and make my way into the room before climbing in bed.   I listen to the sounds of him moving around in the bathroom and roll to my side, hoping that he doesn’t push me away again when he comes back to bed.

The bathroom light shuts off, plunging the room into darkness, and I let my eyes drift shut as I listen to him remove his jeans before dropping on to the bed.  When he doesn’t immediately lie down, I let my worry start to fill my mind again.  I listen as his boots hit the floor, one lightly and one with a heavy drop.  I can hear his breathing, and it might as well be an echo of my heartbeat.  It speeds up with each passing second, and I’m seconds away from crying.

This is it.  He’s going to reject me again.

I open my mouth to speak but snap it closed when he shifts his weight and drops down beside me.  He doesn’t take me in his arms like I hoped, and with a heavy exhale, I settle in with the knowledge that what we just shared could be considered a mistake to him.  And that thought is a killer.

He shifts his body, moving around as if he is unable to find the right position, and right when I’ve all but given up all hope, his strong arm reaches over before pulling me into his body.  When his heat seeps into my chilled skin, I mentally cry out with relief.

“Em,” he implores.  I can’t understand why he is saying my name with such a pleading tone.  Almost like me, he can’t really wrap his mind around what just happened.  “Tell me why you made me grab a condom.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what I was anticipating.

“You know why, Maddox.”   I pray that he doesn’t make me say it.

“Are you worried about it?”  His fingers draw lazy circles against my shoulder as I think of the best way to express some of my darkest fears.

“You really know how to kill the moment, huh?”  My joke falls flat and he remains silent—giving me the time I need to get out what needs to be said. “When Coop found me, before he brought me out to California, it was bad—real bad.  The first thing I did was go to the doctor and get tested to make sure he hadn’t given me something.  You don’t exactly expect your rapist to be exclusive to you.  The tests all came back clean and I haven’t been with anyone else.  Until two weeks ago, when I went back to Syn.  He hasn’t touched me in almost two weeks and he wasn’t there tonight, so he wouldn’t have gotten to me then.  But I won’t lie to you.  He didn’t use protection the one time he took liberty with my body.  So I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.”

He doesn’t respond, but his fingers don’t stop their caress against my skin.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if…  I just couldn’t take that chance.  Not with you.”

His arm tightens with my whispered words, and I close my eyes.

“There are things about me, things that I would rather you hear from my mouth before you see them for yourself.  Things that I feel like you should know.  I just don’t know how to put it all out there for you, Em.”

His rare open moment of sharing leaves me speechless.  I’m not sure what he wants from me in this moment.  I’ve learned from the past that you don’t push Maddox, and when he’s ready to tell you something, he’ll do it on his time.

The silence becomes almost too much as I wait for him to go on.  His fingers keep tracing imaginary lines on my skin.  I shift my thoughts and try to picture what, if anything, he is drawing.

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