“I need to taste you, Maggie,” he said roughly, his words muffled against her skin. He cupped her behind and lifted her onto the bed. With dazed eyes, she grasped his shoulders and twisted, pushing him back to the bed.
“Maggie...” He laid down, grasping her hips firmly, pulling her up until she straddled his face. Maggie couldn’t help the cry that ripped from her throat at the first feel of his mouth on her. His arms locked like iron bands around her hips, holding him to her.
His mouth ravaged her, licking and biting; he groaned as she spilled over his tongue. “Michael,” she screamed, her hands clutching at the headboard. “Oh, Michael, don’t stop!”
Her pleas seemed to inflame him; he attacked with renewed vigor, plunging his tongue deep and true. She tried to squirm against the onslaught of sensation, tried to ease some of the white-hot shooting bolts of pleasure he was sending through her with every touch, but he held her firm, would not let her rest. He was relentless, pushing her farther and farther. Each time she was on the verge of coming he would pull back, over and over again, until she swore she could not take one more second.
“Ride me, Maggie,” he said against her sex. He had to repeat the command three times, physically tug her hips downward, before her fevered mind was finally able to comprehend. He held himself ready as she positioned herself over him, crying out when she impaled herself, taking him all in one deep thrust.
Maggie cried out at the sudden and violent penetration, needing the pain as much as the pleasure. She was beyond rational thought, but instinctively she knew she had to protect Michael, keep him from overtaxing himself. Mindful of his wounds, she leaned over, placing her hands on his biceps, letting her nails curl like claws into his skin, both a warning and a promise that she would be the aggressor. Michael groaned.
“Ah, baby, it feels so good to be inside you. Heaven, Maggie. Ride me, baby.”
It was all the encouragement she needed. She began to roll and lift her hips, taking him even deeper, mindful to keep weight off of his chest and abdomen. Her inner muscles clamped down around him, protesting every time she pulled away, rejoicing every time she took him again.
After so much time without him, it took mere minutes for her to reach climax. Michael cursed as he felt her muscles tighten around him, pulling, milking, squeezing. He grabbed her hips and held her in place while he thrust upward. She screamed again, begging for mercy as he continued to pound up and into her, forcing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced, beyond pleasure, beyond pain. It was too much – too intense – she couldn’t imagine another second yet he continued until she exploded again, until her body and mind and spirit shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as she felt him bursting within her.
Maggie collapsed. Her bones had become liquid, her capacity for rational thought evaporated. Michael caught her and held her close. “Sshhhh, baby,” he whispered as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. “I’ve got you.” One arm locked her to him, the other ran up and down her back.
As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stop. She cried harder as the reality of the last two weeks – the last two months – crashed around her. She’d come so close to losing him. She clutched at him, held on to him hard as if she would never let him go again.
*
Michael had been waiting for it. She’d been so strong, so capable, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He had had plenty of opportunities to get used to the idea of death. Had seen it many times. Knew that with each mission he and his brothers accepted there was a chance he would not return. But Maggie didn’t. She wasn’t prepared for this.
He let her cry it out, doing the only thing he could – he held her until there was nothing left.
Eventually the tears stopped. She clung to him a little less desperately, but she refused to let go. That was okay with him. He had no intention of letting her, ever again.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Don’t let him overdo it,” Maggie instructed Kieran when he came to pick up Michael. Kieran managed a fitness and rehab center in town where Michael would be doing his rehab.
“Relax, Maggie. We know the drill.” Kieran reassured her. “This isn’t the first time one of us has been shot.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Immediately her face paled and her lip began to tremble. Michael shot Kieran a withering look.
“It’s okay, Maggie,” he said, his voice softening. She nodded, but it wasn’t okay, not really. Now that Michael was home and recovering, she had to face the awful truth that if she stayed with him, this might happen again. And next time, he might not come home at all.
––––––––