HEARING THE RAW possessiveness in her Major’s muttered declaration after using his devilish lips on the skin of her butt was almost Meghan’s undoing.
‘Mine.’
What else mattered except that? She wanted to weep. Nothing else except her beloved should be anywhere near her thoughts right now, but dammit, Finn and the broadside he’d unloaded kept creeping into her consciousness.
Alex’s possessive exploration of her bottom sparked a wild tremor. Suddenly, the messy emotional torrent her brother dumped in her lap melted into the air. A part of Meghan that responded only to this man took over, and she let go of everything else except this moment.
This was her husband. Of the billion souls on the planet, Alex Marquez was the man she chose. And in so choosing, she surrendered her will to his care. He would help her through the crisis building in her heart.
His big, sturdy hands deftly managed the mechanics of unhooking her bra. Pushing the straps off her shoulders, she shivered when his lips nibbled lightly on her neck.
As the last of the delicate lingerie was disposed of, she stood completely still knowing he was looking at her naked body. Meghan’s skin bloomed with goose bumps as Alex’s powerful gaze swept over her.
She could just about hear him breathing. The temptation to turn around and search his face was hard to fight, but she held fast, and after a minute, a whisper of calm invaded her senses.
A deep inhale brought every sense into line as she relaxed and embraced a familiar feeling. Surrender. Nothing else existed except this moment and the two of them. Her shoulders lost their stiffness. Lifting her chin on another deep inhale, Meghan let her eyes drift shut.
A whoosh of air followed by cool silk caressing her nakedness brought her eyes open. He was dressing her in the turquoise robe. A frisson of surprise reminded her that she wasn’t dealing with an ordinary man. Instead of quieting her mind with some passionate lovemaking, he was asserting his dominance over her in a different way.
She couldn’t love him more than she did right then.
The soft silk felt lovely against her bare skin. Alex lifted her mane of hair out of the collar and smoothed it down her back. Stepping in front of her at last, he closed the flimsy garment and belted the sash around her waist as she waited patiently. She watched him closely as he worked, noting his formidable jaw covered in manly stubble, and the way his brows bumped close when he concentrated.
When he was finished, he reached for her hand and silently guided her away from the bed. She followed obediently, wondering what he had in store. His behavior so far was one hundred percent Major. Every bit of tension inside her melted at the thought. The serious way he took care of her had a way of turning Meghan to a puddle of adoring goo.
Next thing she knew, he’d led her to their side-by-side easy chairs and sat her down. The balcony doors were open to the waning daylight despite the lingering heat of another beautiful desert day. Enjoying the familiar view, Meghan squeaked with surprise when she felt Alex’s fingers spear into her hair. The squeak quickly morphed into a deep groan when his strong fingers began to massage her scalp, rendering her boneless in seconds.
Though she would’ve been fine with him keeping that up for the next twenty-four hours, he lay her head on the back of the chair and draped all of her hair over the edge. And then he started brushing, and she died and went straight to heaven. Oh. My. God.
Delightful flutters of bliss accompanied her hushed whimpers. She heard him pull the ottoman behind her and sit down. Since he settled in for the long haul, she simply let go and submersed herself in the spell he wove with his tender touch.
It was heaven, magic, and perfection all rolled into one.
A warm breeze blew over them. Meghan’s nipples peaked and throbbed with awareness. Her breasts felt especially heavy. She squirmed slightly when the need to have Alex’s hands on her body wiped out every other thought in her brain.
The brush pulled from her hairline to the curling ends a few more times and then stopped. She heard the brush drop onto the side table a second before his hands gathered all of her hair into a tail and started twirling until he pressed a long thick rope of auburn to the top of her head and secured it with a clip.
His occasional commands were the only words spoken, but that didn’t mean they weren’t communicating on a primal level. She loved when it was like this with him. Nothing quieted her riotous thoughts faster than totally tuning into her lover.
His fingers caressed her face. Sprawled in the chair with her head resting on the back, she opened her eyes and looked up. His face was mere inches from hers. Would he kiss her? Oh, she hoped he would. Alex’s lips were a preview of what heaven would be like.
“Meet me in the shower room when you’re ready.”
He leaned in. She readied for his mouth on hers. And then he dropped a soft kiss on her nose and backed away.
Her Major was playing the devil. And he was damn good at it.
Alone in the bedroom, she sat up, refastened the clip a little tighter, and glanced around. She loved this room. Loved the history and the knowledge that generations of the Valleja-Marquez family had lived here. Loved here. Made babies here. And yes, one or two had even taken their last breaths here.
She was Meghan Valleja-Marquez, and God willing, she and her hunky badass Major, the one with the loving dominant streak six miles wide, would spend a couple of decades right here. Making babies and loving each other. This was her fate. He was her destiny.
Everyone and everything else could go straight to hell.
She didn’t hurry but did move with a confidence and purpose that kept her thoughts from wandering. The sound of the tub filling spurred her to move faster. She stopped at the sink to peer in the mirror and make sure she wasn’t wearing broccoli in her teeth. When she finally rounded the corner into the huge bathing area, Meghan stumbled to a halt and took in the extraordinary scene.
Hurricanes of every size, clustered in groups on the floor and set around the impressive shower room, flickered with soft candlelight. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air, and though it was faint, she heard the soft melodies of her favorite music mix—the one she used when massaging her alpha beast.
Oh. And that beast? He was waiting near the tiled platform surrounding the ginormous tub. His hand extended in her direction. The expression on his face when she slipped her hand in his was so loving and full of respect that her lip trembled from a wave of emotion.
She went straight to him and tried to curl into his big body. Craving the security his physical being offered, Meghan was peeved when he didn’t let her direct the proceedings.
She pouted and made sure to do it right in his face. Dammit. Hugging was off the agenda? Well, shit.
Making absolutely no attempt to wipe the smirk from his handsome face, Alex whipped her around with a flick of his wrist, untied the robe’s belt, and slid the silken garment from her body.
“Get in the damn tub, wife, before I forget why we’re here.”
Meghan’s pout vanished at his seductive growl. Glancing down, she noted the spectacular bulge pressing against his sweats. Even after all this time, it gave her quite a thrill to know she caused his response.
Throwing down with a meekly murmured, “Yes, Master,” that in no way mirrored the wicked satisfaction in her gaze, she slid closer and bent to rest her hands on the raised tile platform as she prepared to slid into the tub.
His beefy hand swatted her ass so hard she nearly propelled face-first into the tub of fluffy bubbles.
“Ow!” she yelped.
He kissed her ass. “Better?”
Reaching back, she rubbed her poor butt. “No.” Her glare suggested he wasn’t playing fair. When she turned around to resume climbing into the tub, his hand came down and smacked her other cheek. Hard.
Instead of an affronted yelp, she groaned. He immediately put his lips on the flesh he’d just whacked. “Better?”
She flashed him a saucy moue and slid into the tub. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Okay, good.” He chuckled. Sitting on the tile surround near her shoulder, he picked up a bath pouf and plunged it into the water down against her outer thigh. “No more words.”
Fine by her because once he began to bathe her, she folded like an origami swan.
What was it about him brushing her hair? Or knowing how to twirl her mass of curls just right so they’d fit in the clip? Honest to god, Alex was a manly guy. But when he did these simple things for her, he never seemed more masculine. Or powerful.
So when he washed her as though she were a delicate treasure, stroking the suds-covered pouf all over her torso, Meghan became so deeply mesmerized by his loving care that her mind emptied and she went someplace else. Somewhere it was just the two of them. Silently communicating.
His touch was what her soul needed.
Unfortunately, bathwater has a shelf life before it gets weird. And chilly. He drained the tub, told her to stand, and then used the handheld hose to rinse her off. Did he spend an inordinate amount of time and attention directing the spray between her legs? Yes. Yes, he did. It was Alex, after all.
With all the solemnity of helping the Queen from her state carriage, Meghan’s husband got her safely from the tub and onto a bath mat where he proceeded to gently wipe away the water left on her skin.
Once again—because it was Alex—he had her bend over, stretch her arms up, and put each foot on a stool so he could get at every teeny tiny millimeter of skin on her body. He was thorough that way.
When he was satisfied that not a single drop of moisture escaped his attention, he led her to the bedroom and over to the patio doors. Crowding her close from behind, she felt his erection against her ass. It felt like her heart was beating in her throat as she struggled to remain still. Then his hands swept around her waist and rose up her torso until he had both breasts cupped in a gentle grip.
An aching throb wracked her body when his hands closed around her flesh. Her breasts felt like they were on fire. She reached for his hands placing hers on top. What was happening? She didn’t know whether to press for more or pull his hands away.
“Easy,” he whispered in her ear. “Your breasts are tender tonight, aren’t they?”
Tender? Jesus. Try hypersensitive. Raw.
He fastened his mouth to her neck and suckled briefly before chomping down but good. The mark of the beast. She shivered and whimpered.
“Stand here, my beauty,” he growled seductively. “Let me watch you against the night sky.” Kissing her between the eyes, he held her face and looked deeply. “There is nothing but us, Meghan.”
He jostled her head slightly to make his point. “You. Me.”
Her gaze locked on his. “Yours,” she murmured.
He nodded slightly. “Mine.”
A single tear came from nowhere and slid from her eye, rolling down over his thumb and dropping onto her lip. She tasted the salty drop and gave a small cry. “Alex.”
“I protect what’s mine.”
Oh, god. She heard the message in his voice. This was Major Alexander Valleja-Marquez stripped to the bone.
Meghan wasn’t sure where the words came from or why they chose that moment to escape her mouth. “Don’t let go of me.”
What was that? Her greatest fear? A worry sparked by Finn’s hurtful accusations?
His hands slid away, and he took a step back until their bodies no longer touched. Her eyes held onto his.
“Meghan,” he groaned. “My beautiful Irish goddess wife. Even when we are apart, I never let go.”
All hell broke loose inside her at his choice of words. What felt like the mother of all hormonal surges hit with full force, and she crumpled so fast it was a miracle she hadn’t ended up on her ass. Luckily, her man had excellent reflexes.
A sob tore from her throat. She covered her face with her hands and started to shake uncontrollably. “I don’t know what’s happening,” she wailed miserably. She was lifted off her feet and into his arms immediately. He strode with Meghan cradled against his chest and laid her gently on their bed as painful sobs shook her body. Alex crawled next to her and held her while she cried.
“Baby,” he groaned. She heard the agony in his voice and cried harder. “You know it kills me when you cry. Please stop.”
What the fuck was wrong with her? Everything was fine and then wham! She became an award-winning drama mama and didn’t even know why.
“I’m afraid,” she wept.
“Of what, honey? Tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
Trying to rein in the outburst, she clutched at her husband and took a stab at explaining.
“I’m afraid this is all a fantasy. A dream. And one day, I’ll wake up and you won’t …” She couldn’t continue; saying the words would make the fear even greater. Damn Finn.
Had she expected him to get all Daddy Dom on her and kiss away the tears—make it better? Yeah. She had.
So she was trailing behind when he suddenly reared up and loomed over her. His chest, a naturally impressive specimen of manly glory, filled her vision. He was breathing heavily, a bit too heavily, and a low growl was rumbling from his throat.
“I won’t what?” He was yelling. “Love you anymore? I don’t know who the fuck put that thought in your mind,” he grunted with a serious overtone of malice. “But when I find out, they’re dead.”
She was quaking and trembling like crazy. Alex’s fury cut right through Finn’s bullshit. Her husband really was the magnificent human being she believed him to be. If her brother thought all this was an act, he was one stupid motherfucker.
Meghan shot upright and launched into his arms.
He wasn’t finished growling like a beast and grabbed her by the skull, sending the clip holding her hair up to the floor. “You are my wife,” her beast bellowed. “I will kill anyone who hurts you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Or do. Unexpectedly complex emotions spurred on this entire encounter. When she first got home, she’d been a mess from Finn’s hateful insinuations clouding her brain. Alex tried to gently bring her back to a place of calm. And it worked. For a time. And then, what? She went from composed and feeling more than a little turned on to a wretched, crying emotional baby.
And what did all that get her? Judging by the turbulent energy her man was putting off, she’d venture a guess and say that Alex’s inner Kraken had been released. The beast was off its leash and on the prowl.
It took less than a split second to make up her mind. Rubbing against his hard, tense body, she pressed wet kisses on his neck and across his chest shoulder to shoulder.
Topping? Taking control? Yeah. And so the fuck what? Alex’s powerful lovemaking would quiet the demons in her head.
She wasn’t sure if he was giving in or humoring her as he let Meghan ravage his neck and shoulders from one side to the other. Just about to lick his Adam’s apple, she yelped when he grabbed her hair and pulled her away.