Midnight Man (Midnight #1)(62)

Her life was ending with each mile the SUV ate up, bleeding away just as surely as the lifeblood bled out of someone who’d been in a fatal accident.

She blinked back tears. She didn’t want to cry, she wanted to see everything, grasp every second of this life before it ended. The night was still, the stars brilliant in the icy sky. A beautiful night to be the last night of her old life. Suzanne shivered and huddled more deeply into the comfort of John's sheepskin jacket, which he’d insisted she put on. It smelled of him, a musky male scent she’d carry with her forever.

His profile was hard and clean, the only signs of tension the muscles jumping in his jaw. Suzanne eyed him hungrily, wanting to hoard images of him to add to her pitiful stockpile. A few days. They’d only had a few days. Despite her best efforts, a lone tear coursed down her cheek.

With a vicious curse, John wrenched the steering wheel and brought the SUV to a sudden halt by the side of the road. He stared ahead, breathing hard, and then lowered his head to the steering wheel.

“Fuck.” His voice was the merest whisper. He turned his head, eyes bleak. “I can’t do this, Suzanne. I can’t give you up to them.”

“You have to.” Her heart was cracking open. There was no question of holding back the tears now. “You have no choice.”

They moved at the same time. She launched herself into his arms at the same moment he opened them to haul her onto his lap.

They kissed, violently, hungrily, a meeting of lips and tongue and tears. Her tears. He wasn’t crying but she could feel his muscles tense as rocks beneath her hands.

He was holding the back of her head tightly, while eating at her mouth, as if he could fuse them at the lips. His tongue was deep in her mouth. She’d take the taste of him to her grave.

“Don’t go, goddammit. Stay with me.” His voice was thick and gravelly. The words came out between biting kisses. “I. Can’t. Stand. To. Let. You. Go.”

His hard hands moved up under her sweater. He didn’t bother loosening her bra. He just shoved it up together with the sweater and bent her over his arm. Cupping his hand around her breast, he held it for his mouth, opened wide over her nipple. He suckled her hard, biting and sucking, pulling at her with the strength of his mouth. Just like that, she surged into climax. She had no idea she was ready; the orgasm—a hard, tight one that left her unsatisfied—took her completely by surprise.

She could see his cheeks working on her breasts and had a flash of an alternate future. She could see herself on a sofa with John sitting beside her. She was holding their child, feeding at her breast. A child who would never be born.

With shaking hands, crying with desperation, Suzanne sat up and fumbled with the snap of his jeans. She needed him inside her more than she needed her next breath. She rarely took the lead with a man, and never with John. But now, right now, she’d have clawed her way through concrete to get to him.

Their hands tangled as they raced to unbutton, unzip, open. She toed her own shoes off, and pulled her pants and panties down and off. She left the sweater and jacket on. No need to get naked. All they needed was the bare minimum uncovered, for him to…

Ah!

There he was, enormous and hard as stone. She whimpered as she put her hands on him, feeling the steely strength. That penis had been the source of such delight for her, but now wasn’t about pleasure or sensuality. Now was about being connected with him in the most elemental way possible. Now was about feeling him inside her, moving, a part of her.

She opened her labia herself and positioned herself over him. Though she’d already had an orgasm, she still found it difficult to give him passage. But she persisted, even when it became slightly painful, because the thought of not having him inside her was unbearable. Finally she was straddling him, completely impaled. His rough pubic hairs scratched her sensitive inner thighs. Her vagina adjusted itself slowly to him. She imagined that if things had worked out differently and they could have lived together, they would have made love so often she would eventually be permanently stretched to accommodate the size of his penis.

Straddling his lap this way, her face was on a level with his. It was dark, but she knew his face well. He was suffering as much as she was. Midnight Man was gone; in his place was a man at the end of his emotional tether.

It was unbearably intimate this way, feeling him deeply buried inside her while watching his eyes. Her hand reached underneath his sweater to touch his chest, running her fingers over the thick mat of hair. She rested her hands over his massive pectorals and could feel his heart thundering under her right hand. His breath washed her face.

Suzanne rotated her hips around the smooth hard column.

She searched his eyes as she began a tentative rocking motion. “I’m sorry I’m on the Pill. I wish I weren’t. I’d give anything if I could become pregnant right now, this instant. At least I’d have your child with me for the rest of my life.”

His eyes flared and the penis within her lengthened, thickened. It was so amazing to see and feel at the same time his reaction to her words.

His big hands cupped her backside, sliding her even more closely on to him. “If you were pregnant,” he growled, “no way would I let anyone have you. I’d kidnap you if I had to.”

“John.” Her voice broke. She could barely get any sound out through the constriction in her chest. Her throat hurt with unshed tears. He began thrusting, slowly, and she was sure he could see the effects of his movements in her eyes. “I am going to miss you…so much.” She said the words against his mouth, rocking up and down against his lips with the force of his thrusts.