Run to Me (27 page)

“What does it make you want to do?”

“It makes me hot … burning … makes me want to open my legs and—”

His mouth lowered, covered the sweet mound again, and sucked hard, then pulled back slightly. “What, baby? What does it make you want?”

“To feel you hard and hot … inside me … throbbing. Riding me.”

“That’s what I want, too … but first—” Grasping the bottom of her pajamas, he slid them down long, luscious legs. When he saw what awaited him, he stopped and almost exploded with rage. She was nude. None of the auburn curls he remembered protected her mound. Rosemount had permanently removed her hair.

“Is something wrong?”

Her voice, vulnerable and uncertain, grounded him. This was Shea … his Shea. No matter what that bastard had done, no one could touch or spoil her real beauty. He pressed a kiss to the flat surface of her creamy stomach. “I’d forgotten how beautiful you were.”

His words, meant to reassure, aroused her instead. Her legs opened and the pink, moist flesh of her sex peeked out at him. Unable to wait another minute, Ethan lowered his head and licked, then groaned against her skin—her taste was as sweet as he remembered. Soft moans driving his own need, he kneeled between her legs, raised them over his shoulders, and devoured.

Sweet heavens, the pleasure. Shea grabbed at his head and arched up to meet his mouth … his tongue delved … went deep and then retreated. She screamed at the throbbing, urging him on. Wanting it to end … never wanting it to end. He plunged and she surged upward again. His hands grabbed her breasts … squeezed hard. Oh … the pressure at her nipples. She loved it. Riding his tongue, she screamed Ethan’s name as her world exploded into an oblivion of soft, velvet pleasure.

She barely registered that Ethan covered himself with a condom before he surged into her. Gasping at the incredible fullness, Shea wrapped her legs around his waist, certain she was too exhausted to do anything more than hold on and revel in his release. She was wrong. The hunger reemerged and sweet pleasure followed, softer and slower but just as lovely as before. Glorious heat flooded her from head to toe and then settled deep in her core, where mind-blowing pleasure bloomed. Grasping his shoulders, burying her face against his chest, she felt the surge and retreat of his powerful thrust throw her straight into an orgasm so explosive, more screams emerged before she could stop them.

And at last, when his release was upon him, shuddering through his big body, Shea held him tight and gloried in his satisfaction, his groans of release. The pulsing throb of his shaft inside her gave a different pleasure … one of deep contentment. This was Ethan. Her man. Her hero. Her rescuer. Her life.

As the last shock wave rippled through his body, Shea pressed tiny kisses to his hard chest, rubbing her face against the golden mat of hair, loving the sensation of roughness against her skin. Her mouth skimmed up to his broad shoulders, his neck, his chin, everywhere she could reach. When he shifted to pull away, the drag of his shaft against swollen, sensitive flesh caused another contraction, deep inside. Moaning, she arched forward, wanting to recapture the wonderful feelings she’d just experienced.

“I’m too heavy for you, Shea.”

The growling gruffness of his voice swept over her, causing her muscles to contract and clasp down on his retreating penis. He gave one last involuntary stroke, then pulled away, dropped the used condom on the floor, and settled beside her. Then, before she could speak, he hauled her over him. The second her legs straddled his hips, he thrust, surging deep again. “I won’t come again for a while. Ride as long as you want.”

A half giggle, half moan emerged at the incredibly graphic and erotic invitation, but she wasn’t going to argue. The wonderful intimacy they were sharing felt natural and beautiful. The explicit words they’d both uttered were a testament to their previous relationship. Shea felt as though there was nothing she couldn’t tell him.

Needing to see his face, she put her knees on the bed and pushed herself to sit up. The erection that had been only a semihard arousal stiffened and plunged even deeper. Shea gasped at the steel-hard intrusion. Biting her lip, she held off the increasing need to take him up on his invitation. A part of her wanted a wild, fast ride so that the glorious release she’d just experienced would shoot her to oblivion again. Soon, but not yet.

Shea gazed down at Ethan. Her new lover, her former lover. His eyes glinted with arousal, desire, and a deep satisfaction. The beautiful mouth, often so stern and grim, which had only moments ago given her mind-blowing pleasure, curved slightly. She traced the curve of his smile with a finger. “Was it always like this for us?”

A shadow flickered, then disappeared. “Yes and no. It was always hot and passionate, sometimes wild. But this is better.”

Hands pressed on his shoulders for balance, she allowed herself one small movement and gasped at the throbbing response deep inside. Her eyes fluttered closed for half a second, and then she asked, “How is it better?”

A grimace of pleasure crossed his face. “It just is.”

Before she could pursue the question further, hard, calloused hands covered her breasts. She gasped and shifted, pressing down, as he surged deeper. Shea forgot everything but the buildup of intense pleasure spiraling through her. When his fingers pulled on her nipples and then pinched tightly, her mind dissolved, went blank. Unable to ignore the need any longer, she began a wild ride, her inner muscles grasping and pulling at his shaft. Sparkling electricity flashed, fire ignited, and a wildness she had never anticipated shot through her. Gasping, crying, and then with a final, keening cry that was his name, Shea exploded.

Shuddering from the aftermath of an unbelievable fury of intense satisfaction, she opened her eyes. Ethan’s green eyes were dark and glinting with fire and need. A flush high on his cheekbones and the way he held his breath told her he was within seconds of losing control. And in that instant, she knew that’s exactly what she wanted. She wanted that iron control shattered, the grim stoicism he shielded himself with obliterated. A small part of her questioned her sanity. If Ethan truly let go of that control, could she handle it? Was she prepared for the consequences? An inner voice, one she had only recently acknowledged as part of her, answered yes. Every part of Ethan—his fiery temper, his hard, grim exterior, and his passionate nature—held an answering and compatible response from her. Ethan and Shea, a match in every way, equals in strength. Two parts of a whole.

Leaning down, his penis so hard and hot inside her, she knew explosion would take only seconds. With a tender sweep of her lips against his grim mouth, she whispered, “Give it to me, Ethan. Hard and deep.”

A growl that began deep inside him emerged. His breath coming in restrained gasps, he rolled Shea onto her back, spread her wide, pushing her legs over her head, and plunged. Carnal, erotic, and coarse words were muttered in between the fast and furious plunge and retreat. Then with a low, feral groan, Ethan jerked out of her and spilled himself onto the sheet.

His breath soughing out of his body, he collapsed on top of her. Shea lowered her legs, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and held him close, needing to show him that he was safe with her. He could let go, be himself, and she would always want him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to communicate this to him, why it was so important. Recognition that this reassurance was what he needed? Or was it from long ago? An elusive memory that she hadn’t been able to give him this promise before?

Ethan claimed he’d broken her heart. Why did she somehow suddenly suspect that she had really been the one to break his?

Gripping the hot steel bars, he ignored the blistering pain in his hands as his glazed eyes squinted at the setting sun. Flies and mosquitoes swarmed around him, their bites and stings inconsequential irritants. Sweat poured down his naked back, giving him the only relief from the searing heat. Three hours a day, they rolled his cage out of the lab for sunshine and fresh air. Soldiers, doctors, and strangers passed by him as if he wasn’t there. As if he possessed no existence, no soul.

When he’d been lying in bed for days, drifting between a drug-induced haze and horrific comprehension, he’d thought he knew hell. He’d soon learned different.

He’d come close to death. The searing pain in his lungs had almost smothered him. The bastard doctor treating him had explained that the drugs he’d been given had weakened his immune system as well as rendering the antibiotics useless. They’d stopped drugging him long enough to get him well. And in place of the drugs, nightmares and vague, shadowed memories had emerged. Not enough to give him the information he sought. Just enough to torture. Just enough to have him screaming in agony.

And all the while, the fury built.

The doctors and scientists discussed him as if he were an inanimate object. As if he had no thoughts, no feelings, no humanity. Once he was well enough, the drugging began again. Since they believed he was nothing but a lump of something they could mold into whatever they so chose, they spoke freely in front of him. A blessing, really. They believed that, caged as he was, like a zoo animal, he posed no threat. Therefore, the drugs he’d been given were even less than before. He had several long moments of sanity before his evening injection. Not enough to remember anything of significance but sufficient for him to understand the utter inhumanity of his captivity and experience a fierce, writhing hatred.

Memories before this particular existence still wouldn’t come—his name or how he came to be. He saw occasional glimpses of faces or flashes of past events, heard soft, sweet voices in his mind, but he was unable to hold them long enough to grasp their meaning.

They were getting him healthy for their own selfish and evil reasons. First, he needed to be strong enough to retrieve the red-haired woman for the man he’d once called master. Jaw clenched, he ground his teeth in rage. Revulsion clawed and ripped at his insides. No man was his master, and he’d die before he’d ever utter those words again.

Once that mission was accomplished, the doctors and scientists wanted to use him as their lab rat. There was no telling what they would inject him with or what he would be expected to do for them. He was their toy, to be used until he was used up.

He planned to kill them all. No way in hell would he continue to be subjected to this torture and humiliation. He didn’t know when or how it would happen, but deep inside he knew it would.

After he killed them, he had no idea what he would do. Without any idea of who he was, where could he go? Did he have a family? People who cared about him? If so, why hadn’t they helped him? Was he alone in the world? It didn’t matter. Once he killed the bastards, perhaps he should die, too.

Perhaps his worth was only in the number of people he could kill. He had killed many. He remembered some of them … soldiers. They had been evil, and he had no remorse for their deaths. But there was someone else. Where or when, he didn’t know, but he remembered stark terror in pale blue eyes just before they glazed with death. He remembered harsh voices screaming at him to stop. Man or woman? He didn’t know, but he or she had been a victim. Not in league with these monsters. In his gut … in his soul … he knew he had the blood of an innocent on his hands.

Yes, perhaps after he killed the bastards who tortured him, he should die as well. Murderers didn’t deserve to live.

Hot sultry summer slid toward a crisp, cool autumn. Ethan had told her that if she thought the Tennessee hills were beautiful in the summer, she hadn’t seen anything yet. He was right. Colors of every hue and depth covered the mountains as far as the eye could see.

She’d been here for over two months, and in that time, so much had changed. She’d remembered much of her past. Still no real recollection of her time with LCR or anything significant from her past relationship with Ethan, though. Nor did she remember many of the things that had happened with Rosemount, but she had high hopes that all her memories would return someday.

Her health had improved, and though nightmares still plagued her from time to time, many nights she slept straight through till morning. Knowing that she hadn’t been raped gave her tremendous relief, but she understood that the real reason for her lessening nightmares had one name … Ethan. He held her close each night. In his arms, she knew true peace. He was her lover, her rescuer, and her best friend.

“Hey, Shea, I need to run to town for supplies. Can you be ready in half an hour?”

Twisting around, she gazed up at Ethan. He had changed, too. Though often still gruff and grumbly, he no longer wore that haunted, stony expression that used to shadow his face. When they made love, he was fierce and possessive, giving her pleasure beyond belief. Out of bed, his dictatorial ways could still make her more furious than a crazed hornet. She’d stood toe to toe with him on more that one occasion. And despite the fury spitting from his eyes, a little smile always played around his mouth, as if he enjoyed the fireworks. Truth to tell, she enjoyed them, too. Fighting with Ethan beat out just about everything for pure enjoyment and stimulation, with the exception of their lovemaking.

“Why are you staring at me like that? You okay?”

Shea jerked her attention back to the glowering man in front of her, concern furrowing his brow. “I was just thinking how handsome and sexy you are.”

His eyes darkening with sensual heat, his gaze slid down her body like a steaming-hot caress. A shudder of awareness swept through her as her blood heated. Last night, Ethan had been insatiable, making love to her for hours on end. Every kiss and caress had ratcheted up the tension, until she’d exploded in his arms.

“You keep looking at me like that, you’re going to find yourself on your back, with your legs spread and me inside you, before you can take another breath.”

Her heart pounding at the vivid picture in her mind, she whispered, “And that’s a problem why?”