Love in the Light (Hearts in Darkness, #2)(27)

Clearly, the tattoo of his initial plucked at his anxiety, but what he said was true—no one had ever done something this special for him. Ever. It was just that, off*ckingcourse, that made him scared.

Terrified, actually.

After everything he’d lost, how could he have something so, so good for keeps?





CHAPTER TEN



Caden was ravenous for Makenna the minute they walked through her apartment door. He was on her in an instant. Pressing her back against the kitchen counter. Dropping her purse to the floor. Tugging off her coat.

He was using her. He knew he was. Using her to help shut down all the bullshit in his head. Because when he was with her, when he was in her, it all went away. It always f*cking went away.

But she seemed to be right there with him. Shoving off his jacket, burrowing her hands under his shirt, jerking it up. They worked it off together.

Their kisses were urgent, deep, rough. He devoured her—her skin, her tongue, her moans. He couldn’t get enough of her.

“Still…too…many…clothes,” Makenna rasped around the edge of a kiss, her hands pulling at the button to his jeans.

“God, I need you,” he said, his mind an overwhelming blur, his chest still too tight from before.

“I’m right here,” she whispered. “Right here.”

But for how long?

The thought came out of nowhere and struck him stupid. He froze, then blinked. As if someone had just unexpectedly punched him in the face.

“Caden?” Breathing heavily, lips swollen, Makenna peered up at him in the dim glow thrown off by a light mounted on the bottom of one of the cabinets.

He hoped the dimness hid the parts of him he didn’t want her to see. Like the darkness had in the elevator.

“Need you,” he said again, diving back into the kiss. He pulled her with him as he walked them haltingly toward her bedroom. They were a tangle of hands and kisses and shedding clothes. By the time they’d reached the bed, Caden was hard and aching and desperate to bury himself inside her.

“Condom. Hurry,” she said.

He couldn’t have agreed more. He had it on in a flash and then he turned her to face the bed. “Kneel,” he rasped.

Makenna crawled onto the bed, her back arching so f*cking beautifully, her ass right there and waiting. Her tattoo flashing at him from under the protective plastic wrap in the ambient light coming in through the window.

He couldn’t wait.

He couldn’t.

Taking his cock in hand, he found her opening and pushed home.

She took all of him. Just like she always did.

Buried deep, her body accepting every bit of him, her moans proclaiming her pleasure, all the noise between his ears ceased. Just f*cking went quiet.

And it was such a relief that all he could do was give in to the goddamned incredible perfection of it.

His hips started moving, slower at first, but quickly faster, chasing, needing. He grabbed hold of her hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other, his focus centered on her tattoo—on his C. On the way she’d claimed him when he couldn’t even—

No.

He slammed his eyes shut and focused on the slick friction of her body accepting his, on the softness of her skin against his. The sounds of harsh breathing and colliding bodies and the stream of moans spilling from her lips filled the room, and he focused on those, too.

It did the job. Too well. Because out of nowhere his orgasm was an unstoppable force. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he gritted out. His cock jerked with each spasm, his hips moving in punctuated thrusts as it played out. He was almost numb from the intensity of it. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, easing out of her. It was the first time in all the times they’d been together that he hadn’t taken care of Makenna first.

Because you weren’t really with her just then, were you?

She turned onto her side, her smile apparent in the dimness. “Why would you apologize? That was freaking hot.”

He disposed of the condom, then returned to her on the bed. “Let me make it up to you, Red,” he said, slipping in behind her, his hand sliding over her hip.

“Caden, maybe you can’t see the blissed-out expression on my face in the darkness, but trust me, I’m not complaining right now.” Humor was plain in her voice, which meant she hadn’t clued in to how out of it he was.

“I want you to come,” he whispered in her ear, making sure he didn’t press against her tattoo. It would be tender for a few days. He pulled her thigh over his, opening her core to his touch. “I always want you to come.” She was wet and hot, and her hips pressed into his fingers as they swirled in a firm circle over her clit.

On a long, low moan, she pressed her face back against his, enough that he could make out her expression. Eyes closed, she did look blissful, happy, trusting. And instead of that making him feel better, it suddenly made him feel like a fraud. Because he couldn’t give her all of him, could he? He wouldn’t reveal all of himself to her, would he? He shouldn’t burden her with all the doubts and fears and uncertainties that had been building up inside him lately, should he?

Eyes tightly shut, he leaned his forehead against hers and concentrated on stroking her just like she liked it. He needed to give her this. At least this. If not everything she deserved.

She deserves better than you.