He rolls me over onto my back, fitting his big, powerful body over mine, his erection thick between my legs, holding my hands to the side of my head with his hands. “Don’t call me that,” he says. “Rick. You call me Rick.”
“You don’t get to be one person with me and another with everyone else. Be Savage. He turns me on. And I happen to love him.”
His lashes lower, his jaw set tight, his face skyward, turbulence radiating from him before he fixes me in an intense stare. Still holding my hands, he leans in, inhaling my scent, a floral perfume I know he loves. His lips brush my ear as he says, “What are you doing to me and us, woman?”
“Making sure forever means forever.”
He stares at me with those intense eyes that I imagine pierce an enemy’s soul as surely as they do mine. He doesn’t speak, but he leans in closer and nuzzles my neck. His lips brush the delicate skin there. He kisses it, the sensation hot and warm, and my nipples pucker. His lips tease a delicious path over my jaw to my lips where they linger as he says, “I have no intention of losing you, again. Whatever I have to do to protect you and us, I will.”
I know immediately that his reply references whatever is going on with this Max situation. It’s not over. But his mouth is back on my neck, and this time it travels lower, until his tongue is lapping at my nipples. Unable to touch him, I arch my back and he suckles hard enough that I feel the sweet ache all the way down my body to clench my sex.
As if he knows just how much I need him inside me, his shaft slides along the wet, sensitive seam of my body, and then he’s inside me. I pant out several breaths with the feel of him stretching me, and when he releases my hands, my fingers dive into his hair. He rolls us to our sides, facing each other, his hands on my ass. And when he thrusts, hard and deep, he gives me a hard smack and then squeezes my backside. I gasp and laugh. And he says, “I didn’t want you to miss the spanking.”
I laugh breathlessly. “So generous of you.”
He nips my lips, an erotic love bite, and then we’re just breathing together, the air shifting, thickening. Our bodies sway—a slow, seductive dance that burns with a deep, burning need. Soon we’re moving more intensely, our kisses passionate, our touches almost frenzied. I want to slow down. I want to make this last, but the ache in my body just won’t listen. I press into Rick, fingers tangling roughly in his hair, and he answers with the same. He captures my hair and gently tugs my head backward, his teeth scraping my neck. His cock is thrusting deep, and then he’s rolling me to my back again, thrusting again and again, and I’m at the point of no return. He lifts my knee and presses it to his chest, drives into me again, and I shatter, my sex clenching and then going into spasms.
Still, he drives into me, and every muscle in my body screams yes, more. Keep going. And just when I’m coming down, when I’m on the other side of the orgasm, he groans, his head tilted back with the intensity of his release. He shudders, shakes, and with another deep, guttural moan, collapses, catching his weight on his arms above me.
Long seconds pass, his head buried in the crook of my neck, before he pulls out of me and rolls to his back. “You destroy me in all the right ways, woman,” he says, glancing over at me.
I smile, pleased with this reaction but it fades almost instantly. There’s more to that statement, a reverse effect. He’s always believed he’d one day destroy me in all the wrong ways. I curl up next to his side and say, “You don’t destroy me, Rick Savage. You save me every single day.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Savage
You save me every single day.
Candace’s words slide inside me and stir love, devotion, and self-hate for leaving her alone and exposed in the past, no matter what my good intentions. Proof that she makes me human when not so long ago, I wasn’t sure I was anymore.
Candace touches my cheek and then kisses my jaw. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she announces before scooting off the bed, grabbing my shirt, and walking naked toward the bathroom while pulling it over her head. I’m like a kid in a candy store with this woman in my life. And I love the fuck out of her in my shirt. I love the fuck out of her. And it’s my job as her future husband to protect her. That doesn’t seem like a simple thing.
I save her every day.
Bullshit.
She saves me.
And I will not let anything happen to her.
Ever.
I stand up, and grab my jeans, pulling them on but not bothering to zip them up. The moon hovers low in the sky, and I walk to the window to stare at it, reminded of a night years ago in Mexico where just such a moon led me from the cartel-infested jungle to safety. I called it my magic moon that spoke to me without one single word. Well, damn it, give me some magic now. Talk to me now. Tell me how to protect Candace and not lie to her. Tell me how to be honest with her and not ruin the wedding for her. For long minutes, that’s the battle I fight within myself.
Suddenly, Candace is beside me, pressing close to my side, all soft and sweet, her hand settling on my belly. “Hey,” she whispers.
Time’s up.
The truth or a lie.
The time of decision has come.
I turn to her, hands on her tiny waist, and pull her to me. “Hey, future Mrs. Savage.”
She smiles, and damn, she has an angel’s smile. I can’t lie to her, no matter how good my intentions. Good intentions haven’t served me well with Candace. I have never lied to her. I won’t start now.
“That’s me,” she says, “and I can’t wait to be Mrs. Savage.” Her fingers brush my jaw. “You haven’t shaved since you left. You’re about a beard instead of a goatee. You should let me shave you.”
I capture her fingers and kiss them. “Tomorrow.” My hands settle on her shoulders. “We should talk.”
“You’re very serious right now. And considering you are you, that feels rather ominous.”
“Only because I dread telling you anything that isn’t perfect right before our wedding. And I considered not telling you what I’m going to tell you at all, not until after the wedding, but that’s not who I want us to be.”
“But you want to protect me,” she supplies.
“Hell yes, I want to protect you, Queen Candace.”
She laughs. “Queen Candace? That’s new. And that makes you king, right?”
“Was that ever a question?” I tease, but I’m already leading her toward the couch and the coffee table, where there’s a bottle of wine and two glasses, that at one point, a few days back before I left for Tennessee, we meant to drink and never touched.
We sit and I reach for the bottle and open it. And while I’m pouring, she studies my magic moon. “It’s beautiful,” she says, “so close, and yet so far away.” Her gaze shifts and she angles in my direction, her eyes meeting mine as she adds, “A bit like our wedding.”
I hand her a glass. “Nothing will stop us from getting married if that’s what you’re afraid of.”