24
Mary moved around her kitchen, stirring, tasting, adjusting. The scent of lunch rose and it made her happy. Happy to be making this food for her family. Happy to watch Sharon and Jeanne, who’d nearly come to blows, laughing together at her table.
Happy to see Cal, one arm around Jules’s shoulder as he talked to Damien. Smiling.
Gillian, one hand on her belly, the other being held by Adrian, listened to some story Miles was telling. Love written all over her features.
This was her life.
“You look a hell of a lot better than you did about twenty-four hours ago.”
She turned to Daisy, who grinned at her. “I feel a hell of a lot better than I did about twenty-four hours ago.” She blew out a breath. “I hope to never feel that way again.”
Daisy looked past her to where Levi sat, chilling with Gideon. “I know what you’re feeling right now. Levi and I fight because he’s insufferably bossy at times and if I don’t push back, he’d steamroll right over my life. But since the time he and I broke up, those fights have been doable. We’ve been able to manage. You and Damien will fight again. He’s all chill and you are most definitely not a chill sort of lady. But things will be different now, because the panic that nearly drowned you? You survived it. You went with the current and at the end, he was the shoreline and all you had to do was put your foot down and realize you could stand.”
Mary cocked her head. “Holy tamale. Do you have to be good at everything? Jeez. You’re a poet too?”
Daisy laughed and their men looked over to them both. Damien’s gaze moved over her head to toe and she smiled his way.
She ladled up soup and Daisy put the croutons on top as Mary put the sandwiches on the side.
“You made my favorite.” Damien spooned up some soup, blowing on it.
She shrugged. “Not a big deal. I told you it’s easy to make.”
He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “You made my favorite because you know it’d make me happy. Thank you.”
* * *
Six hours later he’d flown back home. Delivered his mother, who talked of little else but Sharon Whaley, back to her place, reassured his brothers that things were okay and he’d be back to start recording again on Monday. With Mary.
He’d grabbed some clothes, his toothbrush, his music and notepads and had flown back to her. Always to her.
He used his key to unlock the door, only to pause when he entered the house and noted the candles everywhere. Music played, Frank Ocean.
And then he turned the corner to her room and she sat on her bed, naked. Her hair, unbound, gleamed against the pale cream of her skin. She had a penchant for incense, he’d discovered some time back. He’d come to associate it with her.
“Wow.”
She smiled. “You should be naked so I can say wow too.”
He obliged as quickly as possible without injuring himself. The music changed.
“Who knew you’d have a sexy-times slow-jam mix?”
She got to her knees and met him as he moved to the bed. Skin to skin, the breath seemed to leave him, like he’d been hit in the gut. The glory of her, of him and her, that Mary-and-Damien thing filled him.
“I made it while you were gone. It’s a Damien sexy-times mix. This is Robin Thicke. Every time I hear this song I think about you.” She pushed him back to the mattress and scrambled on top. “Because I would be lost without you. I was lost without you.”
She kissed him. Slowly. It started sweetly but didn’t stay there for long. Her mouth cruised over his cheeks, his closed eyelids, over the ridge of his brow and the sensitive skin of his temples. She didn’t just kiss him; she paid homage to him.
Tears pricked his eyes. He’d held them back. Needing to keep a straight head to get through the thing that had pushed them apart. But the fear of losing her, of losing this, choked him.
She pulled back, cradling his face. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I ran away. I just . . . I was humiliated. You made me feel so beautiful and special and then suddenly it felt like a lie and it was unbearable to think you didn’t believe it.”
The tears fell and she kissed them away. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you being upset. Being so far away and not knowing what it was. Not being able to help. And then when I saw you today? My beautiful, strong-willed woman with shadows in her gaze, her bottom lip wobbling. And I was the reason. I was f*cking petrified that I was going to lose you.”
“You brought your mother. If you’d have brought Ezra or Paddy, I might have resisted. But you brought your mother.”
She bent again, raining kisses over his face. His neck. The hollow of his throat. Over his heart. Tracing his tattoos. Her tongue flicking over his nipples, teeth scoring as her nails skidded over his sides, sending shivers through him.
She took his hand and kissed it. The heart of his palm. The heel. Each fingertip. Over his wrist and then up to the hollow at his elbow. Over his biceps.
Each touch was her way of telling him how she felt. That humbled him. Wrecked him to his foundations.
“Neko Case? I had to buy this CD three times because I wore it out.” She loved music as much as he did, in her own way. “You’re so f*cking perfect.”
He shifted, flipping her on her back, looming over her body.
“I wasn’t done.”
“I hope you never are, Curly. But for the time being, I need to kiss you.” He took her mouth, devouring it, taking her taste into his body. Her nails in his shoulders. God, how he’d missed this, and it had only been a day.
Her hands cruised over his back. His weight rested against her. Perfect. Just enough to hold her down.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. Never wanting to let go.
She made him cry. She’d spend the rest of her life making that up to him. Knowing he’d do the same.
He moved down, licking his way to her nipples, the pleasure of it slicing through her. He was strong, solid. There was no doubt.
“I want your cock in my mouth.”
He’d been kissing his way to her p-ssy but she wanted him first.
He got to his knees, moving to kneel near her head. He slid the head of his cock over her nipples. She arched to get more. He slapped her p-ssy and sensation rippled outward as she gasped. He watched her face. And did it again.
She swallowed hard and then he tapped her mouth with the head of his cock. Dominant. Self-assured.
Totally hot.
“Suck me.”
She opened up and he slid inside. She licked around the head and he pressed in deeper, retreating. And then he started again.
He played with her nipples until she was wet and on the verge of coming just from that. And all the while he f*cked her mouth, slow and easy.
She took the weight of his balls in her hand, pressing her fingertips just behind them, sliding them back a little to brush against his a*shole. He groaned and thrust a little harder.
“You’re so f*cking hot.” His voice had gone low and hoarse.
She moaned against his cock and he moaned right back.
Lykke Li’s “Get Some” came on and she smiled. He made her feel that way. She could be anything with him. Dirty. Wanton. He accepted her. Gloried in what they had in bed as well as out of it.
Another one of those slaps against her p-ssy and she spread her legs wider.
“Do you know what it does to me to see you do that? Open your thighs for me? Damn. Your cunt is hot and wet and I want more.”
Two of his fingers slid up and into her as his thumb pressed over her *. She sucked in air even as she kept licking and sucking his cock.
He made her come so hard, fingers f*cking her, thumb playing against her *. She managed to not drown in it, but it was a close thing and it made her want him to come just as hard.
She licked down the stalk of him, down over his balls and then back up. Over and over. She knew he was close, and the closer he got, the more she wanted him to come.
He pulled back with a groan. “Not yet. On your belly.”
She rolled over. He kissed down her spine. Bit and nibbled the cheeks of her ass. Gooseflesh rolled through her as he kept going, kissing down the backs of her thighs to her knees.
He licked and laved the dimples at the back as she helplessly writhed to get more. He left a sweet ache, but she couldn’t get relief.
He spread her thighs, his fingers tiptoeing up her legs until he got to her p-ssy. “Wet.” He circled her * with his fingertip and she pushed back.
“F*ck me.”
“Oh, I will.”
She may have sobbed, but he caught her * between the pads of his fingers and squeezed. Not hard. But with enough pressure to send a wave of pleasure through her so intense a flush heated her from head to toe in seconds.
His cock brushed against the back of her thigh. Wet at the head. She licked her lips, remembering his taste.
And then he moved, brushing against her with the head of his cock, not quite entering her.
She groaned.
“You’re hungry for it?”
“Yes!”
He chuckled, and it only made her hotter. Only made her want it more. He kneaded her ass with his free hand, and every once in a while he’d brush his fingertips over her a*shole. Just a little.
“Ass up. Keep your head down.”
She managed to get her knees beneath her to comply. She was open this way, she knew what she must have looked like all spread open and she didn’t care. No, it wasn’t that she didn’t care. She liked it. Knew he was looking.
And he was inside, right as he flicked her * over and over so she came right as he got in all the way.
She writhed back on a near shout as she came all around his cock. He had to close his eyes and count to fifty before he moved again.
He sucked in a breath like a drowning man, sliding his palms over every part of her skin he could reach. She was good and right. Strong. Gone was the woman on the verge of splintering apart that had nearly broken his heart earlier that day.
His Mary was back. The connection between them stronger and deeper, and need, as always with her, raced over his skin as he f*cked her hard and deep.
“This feels so good I never want to leave.”
She moaned her agreement, her fingers gripping the blankets for purchase.
“Think you’ve got another one in you, Mary Elizabeth?”
“Only if you come with me.”
Which worked out, because he was close.
He bent around her, embracing her for long moments, soaking it in, the way she felt there, receiving him, open to him. Wanting more.
“No one has ever made me feel this. Ever. It’s only you. Always you.”
He brushed his fingertips over her thighs and found her cunt wet and inferno hot. He touched her * gently, knowing she’d be sensitive. Slowly, he built her up as she squeezed his cock, getting closer and closer.
“I love you,” she said softly, and it was too much. Everything.
“I love you too.” He bit her shoulder and picked up his speed. Thrusting deep, so, so deep and hard as she rolled her hips to meet him. As she made a sound, a tortured gasp of a moan, and came.
Yes.
He followed, coming so hard he had to roll to the mattress even as aftershocks rolled through him or he’d have fallen off.
He held her. Held on tight and she snuggled back.