Shine Not Burn(85)

“I’m going to make love to my wife now,” he said, his voice deep and soft, a sexy promise I was ready to beg him to keep.

A thrill ran through me to be called that word … wife … and to be promised that joy, even though it was wrong. Even though I shouldn’t have encouraged him to see me that way.

“We shouldn’t,” I said, one weak, last-ditch effort to help him let me go. I was so terrible at doing the right thing. My heart just wasn’t in it. I wanted it all; I wanted to have him for mine and live just for this moment for the rest of my life.

“Bullshit.” He let my hand go and angled his cock up to enter me, using his hand to guide it. Once in position, he put his hands on either side of me and stared deeply into my eyes.

I gasped when he entered me, my head falling to the side as the sensations washed over me and the anticipation of what was to come grew.

“Don’t look away,” he said. “Look at me.”

I turned my face to do as he demanded. His brilliant blue eyes bore into me, causing my heart to fill with overwhelming emotion. He moved inside me, slowly, in and out, all the while never looking away.

I closed my eyes, the passion growing.

“Open your eyes, Andie, look at me. I want to watch you come.”

I forced my lids up even though they wanted to shut out his beauty. I’d never watched a man make love to me, and it was too deep. Too much. Because it was Mack.

Tears welled up, even as the heat did too.

His rhythm picked up and my breasts bounced as his thrusts became more insistent, faster. He never broke eye contact with me, even though his face showed the extreme control he was exercising over his need. He was holding out for me, waiting so that I could come with him. I angled my hips up even more, taking him deeper.

I was mesmerized. He was branding my heart, showing me that he was going to love me whether I liked it or not and that I was his and no one else’s. I’d never had anyone insist on loving me before like this. Tears slipped out of my eyes and dripped down to my ears as the orgasm built. I was on the precipice of a big chasm, a place where I could easily get lost and never find my way out of.

“I love you, Andie Marks MacKenzie. I’m not letting you go.”

I sobbed, but still didn’t look away. Sweat dripped down from his neck and landed on my breasts, tickling my skin as it slid down to my ribs. I drew my legs up and moved my hands to his ass so I could push him deeper into me. I wanted to feel every last inch of him filling my need. I couldn’t help it. We were becoming one in that moment, and I didn’t want to miss any of it. This would be the one and only time I would have this in my life. No man could ever measure up to the standard that Mack set.

His expression became stormy. His eyebrows drew together and his lips pressed into a thin line. Sweat broke out on his forehead and dripped down his face and onto mine. He groaned, his body moving fast, his shaft getting thicker.

The sensation of being stretched and the smooth gliding into my core, combined with his intense concentration and words of love were too much. Too much for my body and too much for my soul.

The heat and fluttering sensations between my legs where our bodies were joined took over, leaving all my reticence, self-doubt, and worries behind. I clung to him as I screamed out his name, crying the entire time.

“Look at me!” he growled, going down on his elbows and grasping my head on either side in his huge hands. I was trapped in his life, his face just inches away.

“I can’t! I can’t!” I gasped out, my face contorting with the effort of managing sorrow and orgasm at the same time.

He crushed his lips to mine and then stiffened, his entire body going rigid for a second before he began pounding into me with short hard thrusts. His mouth became too hard against mine, forcing me to turn my head.

“Andie! Goddammit, Andie!” He was breathing against my face like a freight train as he came inside me.

Anything else he might have said didn’t register. I was too far gone to hear or say anything of substance; all I could do was feel. I was drowning. Love and pain and hope and loss mixed into one big maelstrom of emotion. “Mack!” I cried, hanging onto his back with every ounce of strength I had, bucking underneath him until I couldn’t take the sensations anymore. My cries turned into silent tears and I just let them fall.

He collapsed on top of me, suffocating me with his weight and distracting me from my sadness. When it got to the point where I had to struggle to breathe, he fell off to the side, pulling out of me abruptly. I reached over and slapped him gently on the face.

“What was that for?” he asked, reaching over to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“That’s for leaving me and being so mean like that.”

He grabbed me as he rolled over onto his back, pulling me with him. I was lying on top of his chest, looking down at him and his passion-flushed face.

“You’re the one who’s leaving and being so mean, not me.”

I frowned, my heart stung by his words. “Don’t say that.” Leaving felt so wrong; it was killing me to imagine myself on a flight out of here.

“Stay.” He reached up and gently pushed a lock of hair out of my face. “At least for the picnic. I want you to meet the family before you go.”

The knowledge that he’d accepted my departure as a foregone conclusion hurt. The masochist in me wanted him to keep fighting for me to stay. I guess I hadn’t caused either of us enough pain yet.