The Summer He Came Home

Chapter 20



Cain had never seen anything as hot as Maggie O’Rourke. And he’d been around the block. She was Jezebel and Monroe and an angel all rolled into one sexy package.

He followed her down the hall like a dog in heat and was at her side seconds after she entered her bedroom. The room was dark, with long shadows flickering along the wall.

He watched her for the longest time. Let the pressure build. The passion and need. And then he crossed to her bedside and switched on the small lamp that was there.

“I need to see you,” he whispered.

Maggie’s huge eyes glistened like liquid glass. Her mouth was parted; her chest rose and fell rapidly. Elegant fingers, the tips a deep shade of navy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and he noted the slight tremble.

She was nervous.

For the first time in a long time, he could say that he felt the same.

“Let me see you,” he said again.

A slow, sexy smile claimed her lips, and she walked toward him, her movements graceful, like a cat’s. Maggie stopped a few inches from him, and her sweet, exotic scent teased his nostrils.

His desire raged, and he panted from the effort it took to hold himself still. Every single muscle in his body was tense, hard, and he ached to hold her.

Her hands rose, and she reached behind her neck. Her head tilted to the side, and a long curtain of hair momentarily covered her face. When her hands fell once more, so did the silky green fabric, and slowly she tugged it down over her breasts until she was bare to him.

“Jesus,” he whispered. Her breasts were creamy, the dusky rose nipples hard. They were perfect, fully rounded, and begged to be touched.

Maggie’s eyes never left his as she continued to tug the fabric down to her waist. She carefully untied her skirt and seconds later stood like a goddess in nothing but a skimpy, sexy-as-hell black G-string.

Cain shifted his legs in an effort to alleviate the pressure between them. He was so hard that he was afraid he’d blow early and they’d both be shit out of luck. He needed to take it down a notch. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled.

“You are beautiful, Maggie.”

Her eyes shimmered, and she licked her lips, her small tongue darting out quickly. “I…” Her chest heaved. “I’ve never…” She looked up at him and he saw her heart, her soul, reflected in her eyes. She crossed her arms across her chest and his heart swelled. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve done this but not with anyone other than Michael’s father. Never,” she whispered.

He reached for her. “I know.” He paused. Something shifted inside him, a pull at the very core of his soul. She was unique and wonderful and sexy as hell. She touched him like no one before, deep down where it mattered. This night wasn’t about him or the fact that he needed to be inside her so badly it hurt.

This was about Maggie and his desire to put her on a pedestal and give her everything that he could. He wanted to put her needs and desires above his. And he’d start right now.

Her lips parted and he lowered his mouth, claimed the mouth that had teased him all night. She tasted like sin, and he probed deeply, loving the way she melted against him as his tongue danced along her softness.

He kissed her long and hard until his bones liquefied and his heart pounded heavy inside his ears.

“Holy Christ, woman, you’re tearing me apart.” His hands slid into the thick curtain of hair that fell to her shoulders, and his mouth nibbled along her jaw until he reached her delicate ears. She shivered in his embrace as his left hand slid down her body, cupped her hip, and urged her tight against the hard bulge in his jeans.

He turned, sat on the bed, and lifted her easily so that she straddled him. She groaned and moved back and forth across him, her softness hot and damp against his cock. He tightened even more and gritted his teeth as she continued to writhe against him.

“Slow down, babe,” he whispered, loving the whimper that fell from her as she halted. “Or this will be over before it begins.”

His hands cupped her breasts, and his mouth finally claimed a turgid peak. He closed around her and suckled gently at first and then harder, with much urgency. Her breast swelled against him, and he massaged the other, taking his time so that he could enjoy her fully.

“Oh Cain,” she breathed.

His name on her lips, the passion that colored her voice—it filled his chest with an emotion that grabbed him hard. He licked the hard, puckered nipple and turned his attention to her second breast. Minutes later, she leaned against him, her arms on his shoulders, her breaths rapid and harsh.

Slowly his hands caressed their way down to her hips, and he held her for several moments, teasing himself with the feel of her heat on him. Carefully, he moved her so that she lay on the bed.

Her huge eyes stared at him in silence as her breasts rose and fell rapidly. Her knees were bent, and his eyes rested upon the small silk patch that hid the treasure he sought.

Cain stood and doffed his shirt. Hell, he might have broken a few buttons in his haste but didn’t care. His fingers made quick work of his belt, and his jeans and shoes followed until he stood by the bed buck naked, with a raging hard-on and a rabid desire.

He slid alongside her and claimed her mouth once more, this time a tender sweep, more of a tease than a taste. Cain stared down into her eyes and kissed her nose, her cheeks, and her forehead.

“Remember what I said, Maggie?”

She nodded, eyes not wavering, though she remained silent. His hand trailed down her chest and settled upon her belly. Muscles moved beneath her flesh as he splayed his large hand across her.

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes, and his fingers moved lower. When he slipped inside her thong and probed the soft wetness there, she bit her lip and groaned.

“Don’t close your eyes, Maggie.” He needed to see her, see the pleasure in her eyes. Pleasure that he gave her.

She whimpered beneath his ministrations but held his gaze steady. Cain took his time, his long fingers massaging, teasing, until she was slick with need. When he slid two fingers deep inside, she bucked her hips slightly and he smiled. God, she was tight. He bent lower and whispered against her mouth.

“Relax, babe.” He moved slightly so that he lay across her, rotated his fingers inside her, and when she jerked crazily, he paused and then rubbed the sweet spot in a steady, thorough motion until she quivered.

“Oh God, Cain.” Her hips gyrated in a jerky movement, and he claimed her mouth once more as she came. Her orgasm rippled through her, and he felt every nuance of it. When it faded, when his fingers ceased their magic, he broke the kiss and spoke, his tone husky.

“I’m just getting started.”

***

Maggie stared up at Cain in wonder. She’d never been this aroused before. Ever. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had an orgasm before, at least she didn’t think so, and she was pretty sure that if she actually had to think about it, it hadn’t happened. Maybe she’d had a baby orgasm or a twinge, but nothing like this.

His hard, muscular body strained against hers, and she knew how close to the edge he was riding. Heck, she’d seen him. He was huge and hard and so ready.

He dropped another kiss on her and moved away. For a second she felt bereft as cool air slid along her body.

But then he dragged her thong down, leaving her fully exposed, and her breath caught in her throat at the dark look of desire that hung on his face.

A slow, wicked smile claimed his mouth, and he slid to the floor so that he was on his knees. Between her legs. His hands were on her thighs, and he gently pulled them apart. Cain tugged her forward until her butt was on the edge of the bed, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the heat of his breath against her inner thigh. Oh God.

His mouth was down there. So close.

She’d never done this. She wasn’t a prude by any means, but Michael’s father had never taken his time with her. Sex had always been a quick, furious joining, and then it was over. Their repertoire hadn’t included anything but the missionary position.

Cain’s fingers slid along her thigh, and her first instinct was to close her legs, but the gentle pressure he exerted won over. “Relax, Maggie.” His words tickled so close to her there that she blushed. And when his fingers began their assault once more, she whimpered.

Which turned into a full-on groan as his tongue slid inside her most secret spot. He teased and tortured until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Her inhibitions flew right out the window, and her legs relaxed until she was fully open to him. Until she could enjoy what he was doing and revel in her sexuality. Her hands found their way into the thick waves that framed his face, and she held him steady as he suckled and teased and stroked until her body erupted into another orgasm, one that liquefied her and left her weak and panting.

“Cain, I…”

She didn’t have time to finish—not that she could begin to vocalize her thoughts—because he flipped her onto her belly and hoisted her butt in the air. “I can’t hold back, babe. I want to, but I can’t.”

Maggie was still dazed, vaguely heard the ripping of foil, and then his hands were on her ass. His right hand massaged the roundness before sliding up to the dip at the base of her spine at the same time his left was there at her sex, probing and teasing.

She felt him against her back, the heavy, hard weight of him, and turned her head slightly. “Cain, I don’t know if I can—”

She didn’t finish. Because she couldn’t speak. In one thrust he was deep inside her. Stretching her open as he slid in and then paused. She trembled with anticipation as the heat of her passion thrummed through her body. It was electrifying, wonderful, and totally hot.

“I knew it,” he whispered against her back.

She could only nod. There were no words.

“I knew you’d feel like heaven.”

Cain moved slowly in and out, and each pass sent shock waves of pleasure rippling along her skin. She was on fire, her belly was tight, and the pressure that built inside once more was unlike anything she’d experienced.

It was intense and biting and painfully exquisite all at once.

His breaths fell rapidly—she heard them like hard bursts of energy—and he lifted her hips into the air, held her at a different angle as he increased his rhythm.

“Damn, woman, but you were made for me.”

His words thrilled her, and she cried out as the pressure inside gripped her hard. There was no noise—save for whimpers of pleasure, the creaking of her bed, and the sound of flesh on flesh. His strokes were firm, controlled, and when he upped the rhythm, she was right there with him. They came together in a shattering orgasm that left her weak, breathless, and completely done.

They collapsed back onto the bed, his heart pounding at her back, a melody that was in sync with her own. Cain’s arms never left her. He pulled her into his embrace, and she rolled onto her side and tucked her head into his chest.

She didn’t want this feeling to go away, to fade into memory as if it had never happened, so she closed her eyes and visualized every moment that she could, every touch and sound and smell.

Silence enveloped them in long, gentle waves. She listened to his heart, traced the hard ridges of his abs, and didn’t know what to say. There were no words to describe how she felt. Satisfied, content…they didn’t cut it.

“Are you all right?”

Maggie nodded. She wasn’t sure she could speak just yet.

“You’re one hell of a woman, Maggie.” His hand was gentle as he traced the line of her hip and stayed there in a possessive caress. She loved the feel of it. Of him beside her. Of his scent in her nostrils. She loved the ache between her thighs, the one that spoke of loving and of belonging.

“So beautiful,” he continued. Cain nuzzled the side of her neck, and the hand on her hip gripped a little harder. He paused and stretched his body so that he could reach over the bed.

He fumbled for something, and her eyes ate up the beautiful lines of his body hungrily. He was hard again, and already an answering ache stirred within her.

When Cain turned back to her, he grinned and held up a small package in his hand. The look on his face was a cross between that of a boy on Christmas morning and a man about to take what he wanted.

Her mouth went dry, and her belly did that little flip she’d grown accustomed to. His desire was raw and echoed what she felt inside.

“What’s that?” Her voice was throaty, seductive.

His grin was wicked. “It’s a condom ring thing. A vibrating condom ring.”

Okay, she wasn’t expecting that. “Oh. I’ve never…”

He peeled the wrapper back and winked. “Me neither”—he leaned toward her—“but I’m thinking we’re going to like it.”