The Missing

fingers around his swollen flesh, dragging them up, then down—just once. “I need you inside me. I don’t need to laugh.”

    She stroked him again, and Cullen groaned, reaching down and gently tugging her hand away before pushing to his knees so he could shove his jeans and underwear out of the way. He came into her, hard and full, stretching her. For a minute, Taige almost felt complete. But this, even if he shared the dream with her, wasn’t real, and nothing but the love he’d taken from her was going to make her whole again.

    Tears burned her eyes while she stared up at him. “Don’t cry,” Cullen muttered, dipping his head so he could press a kiss to one eye then the other. He shoved back onto his knees and slid his hands down her thighs, over her calves, until he could grasp her ankles. He pushed her legs wide, draping her knees over his shoulders as he leaned against her. “Please don’t cry.”

    He kissed her tears away and rocked slowly against her, raining soft, gentle kisses on her face and murmuring to her. His voice was gentle, the words the romantic, heart-stopping things that a woman loved to hear as a man made love to her.

    “You’re so beautiful.

    “I love you so much.

    “Kiss me . . . damn it, I’ve missed you . . .”

    It seemed like each word was a knife in her heart, and there was a part of her that was filled with hate. Directed at herself for being so weak, directed at him for the power he had over her. But the other part, the much larger part, was melting. Melting under the warmth of his hands on her, the sweet, seductive way he kept whispering in her ear. Rough fingers trailed gently up along the line of her thigh, and he shifted his weight, sliding his hand between them.

    When he circled his roughened fingers around her clit, it felt like he’d somehow changed her blood to liquid lightning. It exploded through her, and she screamed. Instinctively, she tried to move against him, but the way he held her—her knees hooked over his shoulders, one big hand palming her ass and holding her tight against him, and his upper body crushing hers into the sand—she couldn’t move. “Come for me, Taige,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper in her ear.

    She had no choice, not when Cullen continued to stroke her like that, not when he continued to shaft her with slow, surging strokes that took his cock deep inside her body. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh, as the climax slammed into her with the force of a category-five hurricane. Her vision went dark, and the roar of her blood pounding in her ears all but drowned out the sound of Cullen shouting her name.

    Inside, she felt the rhythmic jerking of his cock and then the hot wash of his semen as he came. His back arched as he pressed deep, and for a moment, he remained just like that, unmoving, the power of the moment holding them both suspended.

    Time slowed down, the moment crystallized, and for a few brief seconds, she felt happy. Almost at peace.

    But then thought intruded, memory returned, and she wasn’t making love with him on a beach, she was only dreaming about it, and when she woke, she’d be alone again.

    Alone.

    Slowly, he guided her legs down, and then he collapsed against her with his head resting on her belly.

    Taige felt her heart slamming away inside her chest, felt the heaving of Cullen’s chest as he struggled to breathe. He pushed up onto his elbow after a few minutes passed, and the sight of that smile on his face ate at her. Cullen was too damn beautiful for words, and that sleepy, sated smile reminded her of a time when she’d actually believed in his love for her. Believed in the promise of it.

    “Let me up,” she whispered softly, pushing at his shoulders.

    “Taige—”

    I’m not going to cry over him again, she told herself. Jerking her gaze upward, she stared at the flawless blue sky overhead. “I’m waking up now,” she said.

    “Damn it, Taige—”

    Deliberately, she closed her eyes. Digging deep, she found the iron will that got her through life no matter how hard it got, no matter how much it sucked. She hadn’t ever had much control of the dreams with Cullen. But she’d control them now. Knowing that he shared those dreams gave her a strength born of desperation, and she forced herself into wakefulness.

    Her eyes opened, and she automatically squinted against the blinding glare of the sun, but the sun no longer shone overhead. It