Chapter Eighteen
Well, it was official. Morphine didn’t ease the mating heat, either. But at least the symptoms were a shade more bearable. The good doctor was able to check her shoulder and dress the flesh wound quickly as they all kept a careful eye on Merinus.
The other woman had finally awakened, none the worse for wear. The force of the wood that had hit her temple had merely rendered her unconscious for a while.
There was minor bleeding but no complications that the doctor could see.
Callan wasn’t listening, though. He sat beside the small hospital gurney, his body hunched over the bed, arms wrapped around his wife as he held onto her protectively. His large hands ran over her tangled hair, her back, the slight mound of her abdomen where, the doctor assured them, the babe rested safe and sound.
His voice was broken, hoarse with emotion as Merinus tried to soothe the fury trembling through his body. Twice she had been forced to whimper, a more than obvious fake sound of pain, to keep him from rushing back outside when news came that the assassins were contained. Two were dead; another was alive but wounded.
Doc Martin had not yet moved to treat the mercenary locked in one of the empty supply sheds.
“Matter of priority,” he had said calmly when she asked him about the doctor’s oath he had taken. “Besides, if that one dies, there’ll be more to take his place.”
There was a hatred so unforgiving within the older man that Roni shivered at the force of it.
Taber had said very little. He had held her as her shoulder was bandaged and still hadn’t moved but inches from her side as she lay on her stomach, fighting exhaustion and arousal. He smelled too damned good and she was so tired.
“Take your wife to her bed, Callan,” Doc finally said wearily as Callan’s head rose, his body still trembling in reaction. “She needs to rest. And you need to assure yourself all is fine. The danger is over for now. Same for you, Taber.”
He turned back to Roni. “Take her upstairs and care for her. Tomorrow is time enough to worry about other things.”
Martin’s shoulders were slumped, his voice tired and so filled with sadness Roni wanted to weep for him. As he moved away from the bed, Callan rose from the chair he had pulled to Merinus’s bed and approached Roni slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she knew this was a man she never wanted to cross.
The golden-brown orbs were almost a full amber, glittering with an animal savagery, and she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.
“I know I can’t touch you,” he sighed as he went to one knee in front of her and looking up into her eyes. “I know what you did, covering her body with your own. My men were screaming the information at me as I ran for that damned porch. If I could hug you, I would. If I had riches, I would bestow them upon you. If I had anything to show you the gift you gave me in saving her life, then it would be yours.”
His voice was soft, throbbing with all the pent-up emotion that he was fighting.
“Morphine’s a great little drug,” she whispered conspiratorially, lying through her teeth. “I didn’t even feel a twinge when the doc dressed the wound. You can hug me if you need to.”
A small smile tilted his lips, involuntary and chastising. “You are still the little imp you always were,” he said gently, shaking his finger at her. “I know better. I could smell your pain as the doctor worked on you, and it flayed my soul to know that it had happened. She would have been defenseless . . . ” He swallowed tightly.
“She’s fine.” Roni knew she was feeling a little giddy from the drugs when she gave Callan a mock frown. “But I want a gun now. I know how to use it.”
“It’s yours.” He nodded firmly, not even bothering to glance at Taber to be certain, as she had expected. “Side arm or rifle?”
She felt a thrill of satisfaction. “Rifle. Like Taber’s.”
Taber groaned behind her.
“Lessons,” Callan muttered, shaking his head at her. “Let Taber teach you how to use it and it’s yours. If you like, you can pick your own.”
He rose to his feet then, a small smile lighting his eyes. “Just don’t shoot Taber, huh? He has his good points.”
“I’m sure he does,” she drawled. “I just haven’t found them yet. I promise to look harder before making a firm decision to take his head off, though.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Taber retorted sarcastically to Callan. “Appreciate the help and all.”
Callan winced. “Yeah. Welcome, old son.” He smothered his laughter as he looked over her head at Taber. “I have confidence in you, though. I’m sure you can convince her to let you live, at least for a while yet.”
Taber snorted, but by then Roni was bored with their male amusement.
“I need a bath.” She eased herself from the bed, testing the strength of her legs, which really wasn’t so good at the moment. “And food. I need food. Pizza is definitely called for in this situation.”
Taber scooped her up in his arms, his grip fierce as he strode quickly from the room.
“I can walk,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the brief respite from her worries that the drugs had provided.
“Of course you can.” He glanced down at her, his lips much too distracting as they curved into a smile. “But I like carrying you.”
He had always carried her, every chance he had, she remembered. He had carried her when he first found her, huddled in the night, terrified of the sounds of darkness and the men who had run her from her home. Every chance after that, he had carried her whenever the opportunity presented itself.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel in my arms?” he asked her as he strode quickly up the stairs into the suite he claimed as his own.
He kicked the door closed behind him, but didn’t make it to the bedroom. He collapsed on the couch, his arms still firm and hard around her as he lowered his head, his lips covering hers demandingly.
Roni wasn’t willing to just be a participant this time. She had faced death earlier. Had faced the knowledge that at any moment, she or Taber could cease to exist. She wasn’t willing to fight the needs clamoring in her body any longer.
Or those in her heart.
She rose in his arms, ignoring his little growl of warning until she was straddling him, staring into his surprised gaze.
“Mine!” Her whisper, despite its softness, resonated with the sense of possessiveness and power filling her now.
His eyes flared. The jade-green color darkened, the pupils expanded as her fingers went to the buttons of his bloodstained shirt. The cotton, though she was sure it was soft enough, rasped her palms as she smoothed it across his shoulders then down to the first button. It slipped free easily.
“Roni.” He swallowed tightly, emotion echoing thick and intense through his hoarse voice.
“You marked me,” she told him softly, determined. “But you didn’t mark me the day you placed your mouth on my neck, Taber. You marked me when I was eleven years old and you carried me to safety. When I was sixteen and you arranged my first birthday party. When you placed that little, all too innocent kiss against my lips. You marked me a little more every time I saw you, every time you touched me. Now, I’m going to mark you.”
She smoothed his shirt back from his chest, over his broad shoulders, and laid her mouth at the point where his shoulder and neck met. There, in the thick, pulsing muscle, she bit him. Not enough to draw blood, just enough that his body tightened, his hips arching and grinding his cock into the cradle of her thighs as his hands gripped her hips with bruising strength.
She bit down, laved the area with her tongue, suckled it deeply, repeated the erotic, sexually charged caress he had given her so many months ago. The effect on him was no different than it had been for her, it seemed.
He tore the shirt from her back as her attention stayed on the tight flesh she caressed with a force that she knew would vary between pain and pleasure. He shredded the cloth, then pulled it from her body before his fingers moved to her snug jeans.
“Take them off.” His voice was feral, rumbling, as he pushed the material over her hips, midway over the curve of her buttocks.
Roni murmured a soft sound of pleasure as his hands pushed beneath the jeans, cupping her rounded flesh, his fingers flexing against the firm muscle as he moved her roughly against his jeans-covered cock.
She wasn’t in a hurry, and she had no intention of allowing him to rush her. She needed to touch him, to taste him, to know he was safe and in her arms and that this wasn’t just another desperate dream.
“You’re killing me.” He was panting for breath now, his head tilted to the side, giving her complete access to the strong line of his throat.
Roni realized she had never felt as confident or strong, sexually, as she did at that moment. He was helpless beneath her touch. Rough groans vibrated from his throat, every muscle tense, his erection grinding desperately against the cloth that shielded her hot, damp pussy.
Her nails raked over his chest, the corded planes of his abdomen, then back to his tight, hard male nipples. When she was satisfied she had left at least a small mark on his tough skin, she released the flesh she held, then ran her tongue slowly along his neck. She nipped him lightly under the hard line of his jaw, then licked her way down his throat, feeling the flexing of his skin as he swallowed tightly.
“I love your taste.” She moved back from the erotic, mind-destroying movements of his cock pressing into her sex. “So wild and untamed. Can I tame you, Taber?”
A short, sharp laugh, devoid of humor, was an exclamation of primal lust as he fought to answer her. “You already have. Years ago.”
“Mmm. My own wildcat. Can I stroke you? Or will you devour me before I can show you all the ways I’ve dreamed of pleasing you?”
His eyes were heavy-lidded, glowing with such a staggering heat it warmed every corner of her soul. For now, this small place in time, nothing or no one existed in Taber’s world but her. She nearly climaxed from the heady knowledge that she held such power over him.
“Show me,” he whispered, though his voice was as tormented as any man’s could be.
She gave him a slow, deliberately provocative smile as she gazed at him from beneath lowered lids. Watching him carefully, challengingly, she rose slowly from his lap, ignoring the bestial sound of protest he made.
“Stay there,” she told him softly as he moved to stand as well.
Taber leaned back against the couch as she instructed, but she could see his muscles flexing, everything inside him demanding that he take her now.
“Oh, so controlled,” she murmured, pleased. “I wonder how long you can hold onto all that power.”
“Not long.” His fists were clenched at his sides as his gaze followed her hands.
Roni slid the straps of her bra carefully over her shoulders, fighting back any fear and modesty that would have held her back from the enjoyment of this moment. He had seen her naked more than once, and evidently the sight didn’t displease him.
He licked his lips, the movement slow, hungry, as she reached back, unclipped the lacy fabric and drew it away from her swollen breasts.
Her nipples were erect and hard, pleading for his touch. Roni touched them instead. Watching him, she gripped them between her thumbs and forefingers, tugging at them, massaging them as she watched his gaze darken further, his expression becoming heavy with the intensity of his arousal.
“I can do that.” He swallowed tightly.
“I know you can,” she agreed, her breath catching as a bolt of sensation shot from her nipples to her cunt. “Take your jeans off, Taber. Let me see if I arouse you.” He began to rise. “No. Don’t stand up. Remove them while you watch me.”
He hesitated, obviously fighting for breath, for control. Roni lowered her hands from her nipples, smoothing her palms down her stomach until they came to the loosened front of her jeans.
Quickly, Taber loosened his own. She smiled back at him, loving the game they were playing, wondering who would lose control first. She pushed at the material, allowing them to slide leisurely from her thighs, then down her legs.
She kicked the material from her feet, her mouth drying out as she watched Taber do the same.
She had made an error in judgment. Each time they had come together she hadn’t had time to truly look at the amazing organ that brought her to such pinnacles of pleasure. But now she did.
It rose to his navel, nearly as thick as her wrist, as bronzed as the rest of his body and throbbing with a life of its own. The mushroom-shaped head was tapered for maximum penetration, flowing to a wider base and heavily veined shaft. No wonder he drove her crazy with the edge of pain that followed the rapturous pleasure. His cock, like his body, was built for endurance, and right now, she wanted nothing more than to endure its presence within her steamy cunt.
But she was going to wait. Taber stared at her with a challenge glowing in his eyes as his fingers wrapped around the erect stalk. Roni licked her lips as he massaged himself, his fingers stroking from the heavy hood to the base of the shaft.
“Come here,” he whispered, his voice dark, rich with sexual demand.
“No,” she drawled softly as she went to her knees before him. “I told you, Taber. I want to stroke you.”
“Damn.” He jerked in reaction as she leaned forward, her tongue licking over the hot head of his erection.
His hips flexed, driving it against her lips as a strangled groan ripped from his chest.
“Roni. God. Baby.” His chest was rising and falling violently with the force of his breathing. Perspiration gleamed on the powerful muscles, making his skin look satiny, warm and vibrant.
She licked the head of his cock again, slowly, easily, watching his eyes, his expression as he grimaced in rising need. The sharp canines at the sides of his mouth gleamed wickedly, giving him a decidedly sexy, dangerous appearance.
“Roni, I won’t make it,” he panted, his voice tight, regretful, tortured. “I’m going to lose control, baby. I can’t stand it.”
“Can’t you?” She brushed his fingers out of the way, her own hand attempting to surround the burgeoning flesh of his cock. “Poor baby. Then how will you handle this?” Her mouth covered the thick head, stretching over it, sucking him inside as her tongue began to rub, stroke and tease the ultra-sensitive, hard throb of flesh just beneath the hooded crown.
The throttled, animalistic growl that tore from his throat had her womb clenching, her sex flooding with moisture and heat. The man within had always stayed in control, had always maintained a delicate balance in their sexual encounters. Roni knew she was tempting, daring, the animal to break free. And she couldn’t wait to show him he had met his match in her.