The Missing

pushed the first inch inside her, he hadn’t been able to stop until she had taken all of him.

    It damn near killed him, but Cullen didn’t follow the needs of his body and take, take, take, taking her until they were both too breathless and tired to move. Slanting his mouth over hers, he braced his elbows on the thick leather cushion on either side of her head, taking some of his weight off Taige.

    He eased his hips back, withdrawing until only the head of his cock was wrapped in her warmth and then, slowly, surged forward. When he felt her tighten around him, he stopped, withdrew, working his way inside her, and slowly, she relaxed around him. Her arms slid up over his shoulders, and her mouth sought out his. When her nails started to bite into his shoulders, he started to move faster.

    Taige’s body bowed up to meet his. Their breathing came in short, ragged pants, and neither of them could see anything for the other. Cullen stroked a hand down her thigh and guided her knee up over his hip, then cupped the curve of her ass in his hand, and held her tight against him. He felt her body clench around his.

    Deliberately, he changed rhythm. Taige slid her hands down his back and clutched at his hips, squirming against him. “Damn it, Cullen . . .”

    He reached behind him, caught her hands, and forced her wrists down beside her head. “After twelve years of dreaming of this, this is going to last longer than a few minutes.” Not much longer, he knew, but longer. And later, he’d do it again, take her as many times in the few hours as he could. Bind her to him again. Remind her of how good they’d been together before he’d screwed it up.

    Settling into a shallow, teasing pace, he nuzzled her neck and licked away a bead of sweat from her throat. Her skin glowed, and under his hands it had gone damp. Her body arched and strained against his, and the snug, wet clasp of her pussy around his cock seemed to clutch at him as though she could keep him from pulling away.

    Cullen circled his hips against hers and stared at her face, watching her. Too damn beautiful. She moaned, a soft, sexy little sound that throbbed through his system like the beat of a drum. Lashes fluttered low, hiding her eyes. Dipping his head, he bit her lower lip and murmured, “Open your eyes, Taige. Look at me.”

    Slowly, the fan of her lashes lifted, and she stared at him with a blind, foggy gaze. “Tell me that you love me,” he rasped.

    “Cullen . . .”

    He slanted his mouth across hers, kissing her deep and hard. Then he lifted up, tossing sweaty hair back out of his face. “Tell me you love me,” he growled against her lips.

    She shifted under him, tugging on her wrists and squirming. “Let go of my hands.”

    Cullen didn’t want to. He didn’t want to do anything but demand an answer from her, but he’d already done that twice, with no response. Slowly, he loosened his grip on her wrists. If he could have pulled away then, he might have. His heart was like ashes inside his chest, and he wanted to pull back, hard and fast. Instead, he hunkered down low over her, burying his face in her neck and cursing the need that wouldn’t let him pull away.

    A strong, slender palm stroked up his back. The other hand still lay over her head, and she sought out his, entwining their fingers. Her free hand curled over the back of his neck, and then her head turned, her lips brushing against his cheek. “I love you, Cullen. Did you actually think I could stop?”

    Any control he might have had left died in that second. Turning his head, he sought out her mouth. Hooking his arm around the back of her neck, he whispered against her lips, “You’re mine, Taige. Mine.” Then he pushed his tongue into her mouth and kissed her until all rational thought faded away.

    He moved higher on her body so that each deep, hard stroke had him rubbing against her clit. Canting her hips upward, he changed the angle of his thrusts so he could hit the buried nerve bed inside her pussy. She lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July, screaming in his mouth, her nails raking down his shoulders, and her back arching. As she came, Taige bucked under him, hard, convulsive little jerks. Cullen banded his arm around her waist and held tight, riding her through it, chasing his own orgasm with blind fury.

    It erupted from him, and he spilled himself into the wet, receptive depths of her body. Her sheath continued to spasm and clench around his cock,