Chapter Seventeen
Andre's hands trembled as they grasped at the coarse fabric of Mary's shirt. They were locked together in the motel room, unaware of their surroundings.
He wanted her so badly that it was clouding his mind. As she brought her mouth to his once more, he almost forgot to breathe. Not in his wildest dreams did he imagine that she would rush into his arms. He had braced himself for her anger, for her tears and accusations, but once again she had surprised him.
It was torture to break from her, but he did, shaking his head. He couldn't do this if she wasn't going to be with him in the morning. "Mary, I'm so sorry."
Mary seemed to understand his need. She took a step back, her fingers running from his shoulder down his arm to rest on his wrist. Her hand felt so warm. Normally she was cool and he wanted to wrap himself around her to warm her up, but now it was the opposite. He was winter and she was the sun, bringing spring back into his soul.
"I'm sorry too. For telling you to go away."
Andre almost laughed. "Of course you are." He passed a hand over his face, the rigid scar on his cheek seeming like it stood out further than normal. "As if you have anything to be sorry for! The way I acted–it was inexcusable. I nearly…" The word got stuck in his throat. "I almost killed your sister for no reason other than she was your father's daughter."
He tried to pull away from her, but Mary held fast. "I know. But you didn't, and you're sorry. I love you, and I forgive you for this."
His jaw dropped. "But… how? Why? I don't deserve it!"
"Yes, you do." She stepped closer and ran her warm fingers over his face. "You were grieving and angry. And you were right. My father did burn down your cabin and slaughter your livestock. I understand why you were so angry."
Andre felt bitter rage well in his chest. That's not all he did. But he forced it down. He knew he had to tell Mary. And he would, but not now.
"You had no right to attack my sister," Mary continued, her voice soft. "But I can see the regret in your eyes as you're looking at me, and that's enough."
Andre clung to her, letting his head drop to her shoulder. "If you hadn't been there… Oh, God! Mary, I would have killed her. I would have killed an innocent girl. What sort of monster does that make me?"
"You don't know for certain you would have. You are not a monster." Her fingers combed through his hair. "But never again."
"I won't. Never. I am never going anywhere near your family again. You are more important than any revenge I desire. I will leave the Americas if I have to." His voice was firm, his resolve absolute.
Mary's hands cupped his face and tilted his head back so she could look at him. Her mesmerizing green eyes glowed with joy. "And I will go with you."
"I love you."
Andre lowered his mouth to hers. His lips tingled and that deep call for her awakened again. She forgave him. He could hardly believe it, and yet as he walked her backward to the bed, he believed everything. Everything was right once more. She was in his arms again.
***
She felt her soul grasping for his, the rush of emotion, the need for him, the need for his love. But she did not expect how powerful it would be. Every time they made love, she felt her soul reaching for his. Now she felt his reaching back. Fireworks went off under her skin wherever it touched his.
Her fingers found the buttons on his shirt and she touched each one of them before her hands returned to his face, pulling him closer. Her legs bumped the bed and she gladly pulled him over her as he laid her down. Loving the weight of him, the solidness of him, she wrapped her arms and legs around him. His mouth went to her neck causing explosions of heat wherever it went. Mary gasped, closing her eyes as she tangled her fingers into his hair.
"I am yours," she moaned, pressing herself tighter against him. "No matter what happens. Andre! I am yours."
He pulled back, and Mary blinked, confused for a moment from the sudden coldness that rushed her skin where he had been a moment ago.
"You mean that, don't you?" His black eyes were wide, wondering, as his fingertips pressed against her lips. She kissed them, loving the rough callouses that proved just how hard he worked. "You really are… mine. And I am your soulmate."
Mary caught his hand and pressed her lips to his palm and wrist. "My one and only."
Andre panted a moment and slowly, deliberately, sat back and rolled off her. Mary pushed herself to her elbows, shivering, brows making a V. She wanted to ask what was wrong but sensed that she needed to let him work through whatever it was he was thinking. The silence stretched, heavy with tension and longing.
Eventually, he looked back at her. "I'm afraid that's the only reason you forgave me."
Mary shook her head. "I considered that as well. But I don't think it is. I think I would even forgive my father for all those years of everything I'm angry at him for if only he was truly sorry. I have never even heard him apologize. I know I could never forgive you if you didn’t regret your actions. But you do."
To her surprise, tears filled his eyes. Her hand pressed to his cheek, against the scar that curved like a bass clef. "Mary… you've saved me."
She smiled, a little confused, but when he leaned forward again, she didn't press. She didn’t want any more talk. She wanted to show him just how much she loved him, just how much she cared. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up so they were knee-to-knee on the bed. It always amazed her how strong he was, how she felt so light and weightless when his massive arms were so tight, yet so gentle around her.
"Be still," she whispered, and he obediently let her move her hands to his lap.
Mary met his gaze reaching for the first button on his shirt. She held his gaze for as long as she could as she slowly pressed a kiss to the smooth, tanned skin there, and then where the second button released.
***
"Let me touch you," he moaned.
"Touch me then," she whispered back.
His hands, cool at first but warming quickly, found her hips and ran up the length of her spine. First over her shirt, then under. Mary's Wolf sang with triumph, howling praises to the moon as jolts of electricity ran from his fingertips into her core. Skin tightened where his touch passed. His smooth skin under her lips tasted of pine and wood smoke. She leaned against his chest, raising her face to his again.
Moans intermingled as a cool rush of air was followed by his soft, warm touch as he removed her shirt. His gaze on her body was as erotic as a physical touch. Pupils dilated with desire. Bodies shifted, pressed together. Clothing was shed and suddenly her knee was bent over his hip. He was laying her down, mouth on her neck, moving lower.
The gasp of his hot breath on her breasts filled her with a deep ache as her nails dug into his shoulders. She wanted to be closer, ever closer until she didn't know where she stopped and he began.
Blood surged as his fingers ran down her stomach, breasts undulating in unison. Fire flared deep inside Mary as those fingers found their mark and a surge of pleasure coursed through her body, puddling in her belly and shooting up her legs.
"Never let me go," she gasped.
He hummed, his chest vibrating as though he was purring and she realized–it was his Bear. Her Wolf met the Bear and melded together as bodies became one, twining together, heart to heart, palms pressed together. Power coursed between them, their rhythms matched. As one, they tumbled off the edge into a writhing, seething ocean of passion and love.
Mary would have happily drowned forever, but all things end, and so too did this. But the feeling of completeness, of souls bound together, did not cease with the rest of it.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady thumping of his heart, and smiled. For just this moment, all was right in the world.
"Never let me go," Andre murmured, stroking her hair. "Please."
"Never," she promised, pressing herself closer to him. "You are mine, Andre Mitchel and I am yours. Forever."