Always Loving You (Danvers #6)(48)
When the tremors had subsided, he continued to lean against her, using the wall to support them both. His legs felt so damn weak he was afraid they’d both tumble to the floor if he moved too soon. The feel of Ava’s small hand stroking against his sweaty back had his spent flesh twitching to life. Surely, there was no way he could go again so soon after releasing everything he had into her . . . could he? He had the answer to his question, as he continued to harden. Un-f*cking-real. He needed somewhere soft for them to land this time, though. “Mac,” Ava purred, locking her legs tighter around his waist.
“Hang on, baby,” he mumbled before clutching her close and straightening to take her weight. They both moaned in pleasure as his steps toward the bedroom pushed his cock deeper. She protested as he separated from her briefly to lay her on her side on the bed. He knew that both of their bodies were tired, even if their libidos were still going strong. He curled up behind her, lifting her leg over his thigh before sliding back into her from behind.
Mac knew she approved of the new position when her head fell back against his neck on a long sigh of pleasure. “So good,” she murmured as he leaned closer against her back to cup her breast. He kept up a slow and leisurely rhythm while his hand wandered over every inch of her exposed skin. He smiled at her fevered shout of approval when he slid his fingers between her legs, flicking her swollen clit. Slow sex was all but forgotten and she moved her hips impatiently, trying to quicken his pace. He tormented her for a few moments longer, actually slowing down until she raked her fingernails down his thigh. Ouch! It seemed as if his woman was tired of waiting.
His stroking fingers increased with the speed of his cock and he was giving her everything she wanted. They both raced toward an invisible finish line with her crossing it just as his balls started to tighten in warning. She collapsed against him so completely afterward that he moved his hand around on her chest to check her breathing. Satisfied with what he felt there, he pulled himself from her body and got out of bed to clean up. He knew that there was no way she was moving any time soon, so he returned with a washcloth, kissing her forehead and gently cleaning her as best he could before walking through the house to lock up for the evening. It was a testament to how she affected him that he hadn’t even thought to lock the door before devouring her in the hallway. Yeah, both the big head and the little head only had one thought when she was around, and it damn sure wasn’t safety. For someone in his line of work, that was almost a sacrilege.
When the house was secure, he settled back around her, smiling in the dark like a sap when she snuggled sleepily against him. He remembered that he had been mad as hell at her earlier with the whole parasailing stunt. Funny how that hadn’t even occurred to him once his hands had touched her skin. Right now all he could feel was complete contentment that for the second time the woman he loved was sleeping next to him. Tomorrow was soon enough for him to be pissed. Tonight he just wanted to hold her and vow that she would never spend another night without him.
Chapter Seventeen
A heavy weight across her chest pulled Ava from a dreamless sleep and straight into a nightmare. Disoriented, she could only work out was that someone was holding her down. Terror raced through her body as her fight or flight instinct kicked in with a vengeance. She had to get free! Oh God, it was happening again, he was going to hurt her—he had said he would, and now he was back!
Her mind went hazy as she started to fight like a cornered animal. She wouldn’t let this happen to her again. He would have to kill her this time or set her free. So she fought, she kicked and scratched every inch of skin that she could reach. She heard him howling in pain, which only fueled her need to inflict further damage. He would pay—this time she would hurt him as much as he had hurt her. This time, she would finally win.
“Ava! Ava! Goddammit, stop! Fucking hell, baby, wake up!” A familiar voice broke through the haze her bloodlust, causing her to pause. Mac? Had he come to save her this time? She turned toward his voice, wondering why he kept telling her to wake up. Couldn’t he see that she was being attacked? “Ava . . . open your eyes. Baby, look at me.”
Her heart started racing as a different kind of fear set in. As her eyes fluttered open, she struggled to keep them open against the bright glare filling the room. As she blinked, slowly adjusting to the light, she looked at the man holding her pinned beneath him in dawning horror. “No, oh, please no,” she whispered as she looked at the blood tricking from his nose and the corner of his mouth. Red welts dotted his cheeks and neck along his chest and arms. “Please tell me I didn’t do that to you,” she cried even though she knew there was no other explanation. She had been fighting what she thought was an attack against her when all the while it had been all in her head. It was Mac. The man who would never physically hurt her.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he whispered repeatedly as he pulled her against his battered body. She completely lost it in what she now recognized as the shelter of his arms. Her sobs filled the room along with her garbled apologies.
She couldn’t understand how something like this had happened. She’d had nightmares about the night of her attack, as anyone would who had been through that sort of trauma. The dreams had almost completely stopped, though, several years ago, and she’d never once dreamed of hurting her attacker. In her dreams, she was always the victim, always. “I—I don’t know what happened. I thought he . . . was back. That I was being—hurt again.” When she pulled back enough to look into his face and saw the wounds she had wrought there, her stomach churned. Oh God, she was going to be sick. With no time to explain, she sprang from Mac’s embrace, stumbling toward the nearest bathroom. She barely reached the toilet before her stomach upended what little it contained into the porcelain bowl.