The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

him hope when there was none in his life, taught him all about dreaming. How could he ever imagine giving that up? She'd given him back his dreams once.
    "Sam?" she said, her voice low and husky.
    "Yes?" he asked.
    "I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want you inside of me. I want you to fill up all the empty spaces again."
    And so he did. He teased her for as long as he could stand it, wanting her weak and nearly spent before he slid inside her, because he knew what it was like for her when he could hold out that long. He wrapped his arms around her like he'd never let her go and settled his body over hers and then kissed her some more, rubbing his body against hers. She started moving, unable to help it, moving in a slow rolling thrust of her hips against his. Her legs were restless, captured by his, and he could feel the little ripples of arousal running through her, could feel how close she was.
    "It feels like it's been forever," he whispered. "A lifetime." A long, lonely one.
    "I know," she said.
    Sam knew just what she'd feel like when he slipped inside of her, just how smooth and slick and tight she'd be. He knew the way her body gripped his and held on, how hers needed time to adjust to his. He knew the sounds she made in the back of her throat and the way her hands clutched at him and how tight her entire body grew just before she came. And he knew what it was like to pour himself into her and all of her heat, and the way they both had to work so hard for air afterward.
    Knew the way she liked him to roll sideways and take her with him, until she was lying on top of him, and her hair was everywhere, and she pressed little kisses along his chest. It would be damp with sweat, and his heart would be pounding, and he'd want to sleep just like that, all night long. With her on top of him, utterly spent in his arms.
    He knew all of that, and she was all he remembered and more. When he couldn't wait any longer, he nudged her thighs apart and pushed his way inside of her, barely, pausing right there on the edge while he tried to get himself together so that maybe he could make this last. Just maybe.
    He felt all the heat of her, all the need. Her hands were pulling him closer, and she was whispering, "Please, Sam. Please." And then he slid home. There was no other word for it. It had been just this way, just this powerful, just this certain, the first time he'd ever done it. He felt as if he'd finally come home.

Chapter 16

    He lost all track of time. It was that powerful, that shattering, being with her again, holding her close as she lay bonelessly on top of him. The side of her face was pressed against his chest, and it took a moment to register, but when he realized what was happening, he froze, the hand lazily stroking through her hair tightening into a fist.
    She had tears running down her cheeks, and he felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of his body in one killing blow.
    She raised herself up on one arm and took his face with her other hand. "No," she said. "It's not that. Not at all. It's just been so long, and it makes me feel so much. Sometimes I think you can rip my soul right out of my body, it's so good. And I need that, Sam. I need to feel that close to you when we're like this, because sometimes, that's the only time I do. It's the only time I feel like I can really touch you."
    "Me, too, Rachel. For me, too." He pushed her head back down to his chest and locked his arms around her. "Stay here. Stay a while longer."
    He didn't think he could give up the feel of all her silky skin, her delicate hands, her warm, eager mouth, her shy touches. He'd always been greedy for all he could get of her, had always been reluctant to let her go afterward, though in truth she'd never given any indication of wanting to leave his arms, not even in the worst days.
    Trust, he told himself. It wasn't that he had no trust in her. It was himself. He had trouble trusting that anyone would want to have him stay.
    But she always had. Always.
    * * *
    They dozed for a bit in front of the fire, and luckily woke around midnight and remembered all that they still had to do.
    Rachel went to get dressed again, but Sam stopped her. He went to the closet and dug into the back and pulled out the box wrapped in town that afternoon, and handed it to her.
    "Now?" she asked.
    He nodded.
    She slowly pulled off the paper, starting with the corners first and then the bottom, unfolding it delicately, with no haste at all,