CHAPTER 4
Dara awoke slowly, wrapped in a warm, loving dream of Matt holding her. As she slowly opened her eyes, she realized it was dark in the bedroom. Matt was curled around her backside, his arm beneath her pillow, his other arm draped protectively across her waist, hand against her belly. The sense of security, of being loved and shielded, flowed like a warming river through her. She had never feared being alone or being in a strange place until she started going over to Kabul at Callie’s pleading. Because she was a pediatric physician, and the Hope Charity orphanage desperately needed a doctor to examine the fifty children who lived there, Callie had talked her into it.
Those yearly jaunts always filled her with a sense that she was doing the right thing for the right reasons. By nature, Dara was a worrywart, and she knew it. She tried to tamp down her concern about the dangers of being an American woman in a country that hated women like herself, women who were different, who didn’t follow Muslim traditions. She worried about being attacked or shot or, worse, killed. She worried for Callie, who was over there six months out of every year, but Callie seemed to thrive on the edgy danger that always existed in that country. Dara did not.
She pressed her cheek into Matt’s biceps, her nostrils flaring, drinking in his scent, stirring her awake, stirring her sexual appetite, which he always triggered effortlessly within her, once more. Memories of loving Matt earlier came with the drowsy realization that she’d dropped off into exhausted sleep without giving him a chance to have his own climax. That popped her eyes wide open as she lay there curved with him, his large, lean, muscled body cradling her. She had never allowed that to happen before. They’d always loved one another fully and totally. What was the matter with her?
Groaning internally, Dara knew the answer to that one: her week of blistering emotional ups and downs with Callie and trying to pull her sister out of that shock and trauma she’d experienced in Afghanistan had exhausted her. Literally, Dara felt drained of lifeblood from that marathon emotional wringer with Callie. It had all been worth it, though, because she, Beau, and her grandfather Graham had united and supported Callie. Dara didn’t regret it, but now, she hazily realized she was paying for it. Matt had said that she was tired to her soul. At the time, she had laughed it off and shaken her head. Now she was feeling it, how badly that week of drama and emotions had pulverized her.
Lying safe and warm in his arms, Dara closed her eyes, her mind and feelings now awake. Matt had been right. She was fatigued on every level. She felt guilty that she hadn’t loved him in return before dropping off to sleep. She was a fair-minded person. She knew how to give as well as receive. It didn’t feel right or good that she’d taken from Matt and given him nothing back. Dara had a sensitive conscience, and it was the rudder that steered her ship in life. Matt didn’t deserve this. Not at all. He’d pleased her so well, and her body still vibrated in memory of that long, ongoing orgasm that had swamped the shores of her exhaustion, feeding her, helping to heal her.
“I can hear you thinking.”
Matt’s voice was gruff with sleep, vibrating softly through her. She felt his arm tighten around her waist, drawing her closer to him. She could feel his erection pressed against her cheeks, and she hummed with need once more. “I just woke up,” she admitted, her voice thick and raspy. She skimmed his forearm with her fingers, then tangled them among his.
“I love you,” he growled, nuzzling between her strands of hair, finding her nape, kissing it, then licking the sensitive flesh and nipping it just enough to send skitters of sensation straight to her breasts and her hardening nipples.
Relaxing into him, Dara smiled and closed her eyes, pressing her head against his jaw above her. “I love you, too.”
“So? What were you chewing on? I could feel it.”
“I swear, Matt, you’re scary psychic.”
He pried one eye open, noticed it was three a.m. according to the clock on the dresser. “Remember, Grandmother Damia was clairvoyant. There’s a long line of seers in our family. People who can see in the dark, so to speak.”
She heard the amusement and teasing in his low, sleep-ridden voice. It felt so good to be held so closely by Matt. All her fears and her concerns melted away when she was with him. He fed her confidence with that undeniable courage and strength he possessed. “Did I really wake you up?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he rasped, nipping her nape again, feeling her quiver, feeling her satisfaction over the small pleasure he was giving to her. “When you love someone, you’re aware of them twenty-four-seven, Dara. That’s not a bad thing in my book; it’s a good one.” Matt stirred, releasing her, bringing her onto her back while he remained propped up on one elbow, watching her shadowed expression. He moved some strands of hair away from her face, caressing her cheek, leaning over, seeking, finding her lips. They were soft, warm, and she opened eagerly to him. Groaning, he hardened, reminded him once again that he needed a release. Her mouth was hot, wet, and as he slid his tongue in invitation against hers, she rolled toward him, her fingers moving slowly up and down his erection, sending him into an immediate heated spiral.
Matt lost his thoughts completely as her skilled, slender fingers massaged him. Growling her name as he left her lips, he gripped her hand, stilling it around him. He saw her pout and give him a disapproving look. Okay, she was serious. Normally, they made love before going to sleep because she was utterly exhausted and would sleep the night through. Seeing the arousal in her darkened eyes, how wide and black her pupils were as she silently beseeched him, he nodded, releasing her hand. “I thought you needed your sleep,” he groaned as she pushed him down and onto his back.
“I got it,” she told him archly, pushing the sheet aside and getting to her hands and knees, facing him. “Now it’s your turn.”
He reached out, burning this moment into his memory and his heart. She was long in the torso, lean like a greyhound, that thick golden hair of hers a cascade and frame around her classic features, those large eyes trained on him. She looked delicious naked, her small breasts firm, those nipples begging to be tasted, and he slid his hand around her neck, drawing her forward to him. “Come here,” he urged her gruffly.
His mouth settled on one of those tight peaks and he suckled her strongly, causing her to cry out with pleasure, her hands gripping his broad shoulders, pulled toward him, a willing captive as she surrendered. As she lay on Matt, her hips against the hard slab of his belly, he began a serious campaign to tease each of her needy nipples, sending sheets of sparks jaggedly down through her, making her channel contract with hunger. Her own ideas of how to pleasure Matt were scattered to the four directions, as it was obvious he was in alpha lion mode with her, hungry and not slow at all. She loved these times when he acted starved to have her in every possible way, relaxing against him.
Matt eased her onto her back. In moments, he’d positioned her, easing her thighs wider, his cock pressing against her wet opening, demanding entrance. Her hair was a dull gold halo about her face, her eyes half-closed, sultry, as she pleaded with him to move into her, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her at all. Matt placed his hands around her hips. He rested on his heels, pulling her toward him until she was at a low angle on his thighs, open and vulnerable.
There were times as he was about to make love with Dara that Matt felt a deep, dark shift within himself. It wasn’t anything bad, it was just . . . different. That feeling had always been inside him. As an operator, he lived off that dark, unknown inner world, and it had kept him alive when he should have died so many times in the past. It was the primal alpha animal within him. His mother had given him the middle name Aslan, which meant “lion” in Turkish. All the stories his uncles and his mother had told him made Matt wonder often if she’d had a premonition that there was a lion spirit around him, keeping him safe, giving him the courage, the strength, and the very necessary survival instincts that he needed as an operator.
Dara was the only woman in his life who had ever awakened the sleeping lion, as he referred to it, within him. And now, as that shift was made, his human, thinking mind dissolving, he felt himself morphing into the consummate hunter finding his mate, taking her and making her no one’s but his. His feelings were visceral, and they drove him as nothing else ever had. With Dara, he wanted to place his seed in her, wanted her pregnant with his child, wanted to protect her, love her, and keep her forever at his side. To his surprise, as he felt that shift into his more primal self, Dara responded willingly, not afraid of his strength, his growls, his impassioned need to mate with her so intensely. She loved it. She loved him. And as he moved slowly into her, allowing her small body to shift and adjust to his girth and length, Matt could feel her juices spilling scaldingly around him, pulling him deeper, lavishing him with her woman’s way of welcoming him into the cradle of her body.
Gritting his teeth, he controlled that wild, restless animal pacing within him, wanting to stamp her with his seed, make Dara his. It was like shifting to another world with this invisible being who had always been a part of him. He’d never talked to anyone about it. Not ever. But Dara had sensed that change in him. She had one night innocently asked him if he had a lion as a spirit guide. Matt had laughed and teased her about it, saying only Native American and indigenous people had those spirit beings with them. He didn’t. She seemed perplexed, looked deep into his eyes, and said nothing more, but he could feel her thinking, feel her digesting his answer. Her eyes told him she thought he had such a spirit being with him. Matt hadn’t pursued it with her.
She must have felt that dark shift within him now, because she responded effortlessly to it, lifting her hips, pulling him deeply into her. Tonight, though, she was hungry, and he swore he could feel her own primal animal not only awaken but go on the prowl, starving and wanting him sexually as much as he wanted her.
They came together in a sudden clash, her cry one of passion, not pain. She’d arched into him, dragging him forward across her so he was fully seated as deep as he could go into her, her fingers around his forearms, strong and not taking no for an answer. As he pumped into her, their bodies slapping against one another, he saw a shadow of a satiated smile coming to her parted lips. He took her hard and fast and without mercy, and she coaxed him fiercely to do just that.
She was lush, tight, and wet. Matt could feel her body beginning to contract, heard her cries climb in urgency, felt her hands dance and grip his upper arms as she arched fiercely against him in that hungry rhythm they’d established with one another. Her lower body violently contracted around him. A deep rumble rolled out of him as the bolt of heat slammed down his spine, exploding through his tightened balls, the scalding fluids bursting through him and into her. All he could do was inhale their combined sex scents, listen to her little cries of heightening pleasure, feel her fingers dig deep into his biceps as he continued to plunge in and out of her, riding her, mating with her, and taking her for his own in every possible way. The animal feelings were dark, hungry, and possessive, and as he continued to prolong her powerful orgasm, he could barely hold on to his reality.
All of his six senses flew open and he was aware of her skin, how thin or how soft it felt, her breathing shallow and her voice hoarse with cries as he continued to gratify her. He lost track of time, of where he was, only knowing he was with his partner, the one being he fiercely mated with tonight with the single intent of impregnating her, making her with his child.
The utter satisfaction of being the lord, the primal male, with her as his mate and equal, soared through him as they finally collapsed together, both breathing harshly. Matt found what little strength he had left and encircled Dara with his arms, his hands resting against the top of her head; she was completely covered and protected by his larger, muscular body. It was a fierce, undying need in him to shield her, keep her safe, and he held her tenderly now as he licked her slender neck, tasting the salt, feeling the pulse of her artery beneath the paper-thin skin. He felt her breasts sliding against his chest, felt those nipples still ripe and pebble-hard even now. She smelled so good to him, her scent an aphrodisiac, and he inhaled it deeply into his lungs, his heart. He never wanted to forget this exquisite moment with Dara.
He kissed her, feeling her smile weakly beneath his mouth, opening to him as he caressed her tongue and then kissed the closed lids of her eyes, tasting the salt of tears as they leaked from beneath her lashes. The joy filling them and knotted between them was palpable. Matt had never felt as euphoric as he did right now, holding her beneath his body, fused within her, his arms cradling her shoulders and head. It was such a profound moment that it opened his soul in a way that surprised him and flooded his senses. His love for Dara was so real, so deep, there was no end to it, and now he was within her body, his seed alive and strong, and he knew . . . he damn well knew, without knowing how, that just now he had gotten her pregnant. And nothing in this world meant more to him than her carrying his baby. Their baby. And he would love that child as much as he loved the woman he’d just mated with and who now carried this new being deep within her loving body.
*
Dara felt dazed and elated; her body throbbed and glowed from within. She had no words to express how she was feeling right now, cradled within Matt’s body and arms. There were no words for the powerful sense of love he was giving her right now. Wonderment flooded her, the feeling of him still so thick and hard within her, feeding her, a part of her, an intimate sharing like no other. There was a heightened awareness within her, without words or understanding. But it was beautiful. It was forever, and she smiled because the beauty of their lovemaking had grown to a new magnitude. An incredible, magical level.
“Ohh,” she whispered as Matt slowly eased up on his elbows, studying her in the shadows. “What just happened?” Her voice was wispy, sounding otherworldly even to her. She saw the amber intensity in his narrowed eyes as he studied her, his fingers moving lingeringly across her scalp, once more giving her such pleasure.
Shaking his head, he rasped, “I don’t know . . .”
She licked her lips, turning her head, seeing the time on the clock. Gazing up at him, she said, “I felt . . .I don’t have words for what happened, Matt . . . I feel . . . different . . . wonderful.” When he nudged his hips forward, she smiled. “This was more than just sex . . . more than just an orgasm or climax . . .”
“Yeah . . . something . . . you look overwhelmed, but in a good way.”
Dara drew in a deep, ragged breath, framing his face. “It’s all good. Wonderful. I’ve never felt so whole as with you in me . . . loving me . . . I just can’t honestly describe what happened, Matt. I loved it. I love you.” She smiled softly into his golden eyes, which shone with his love for her. It was so real, almost visible, and she could reach out and touch that feeling that hung silently around them, embracing them even now.
He leaned down, cherishing her lips, tasting her, wanting to continue mating with her. Until he could figure out what had happened, he wasn’t going to try to talk to Dara about it. In his line of work, even though he lived off his intuition and senses, he still had to create reports and missions based on what he knew or sensed. This experience was so lofty that he didn’t know where to begin giving it shape or words. Resting his mouth against her lush lips, he whispered, “I’ve never had better sex than I did just now, with you.”
“Mmm, me, too,” she sighed, searching his calm expression. There was a primal intensity within him. It was almost palpable. “I liked your animal side.” He looked surprised for a moment and then frowned, digesting her words. “When we make love, Matt”—she threaded her fingers through his short brown-and-gold-streaked hair—“sometimes, for whatever reason, I feel a shift in you. I know I tease you about becoming an animal, but I feel a change deep within you, and when you love me, it’s fierce, passionate, and so much more intense.”
“Like tonight.” He frowned. “Did I hurt you, Dara?”
“No.” Her cheeks turned a dull pink color as she avoided his sharpened look.
“Sometimes sex is just wild, unchained, or unfettered between two people. They both have to want it that way. Otherwise, it’s very uncomfortable for the person who doesn’t want it.”
“Oh,” she said, “I wanted it. I wanted you. I loved the freedom I felt, as if I were a wild horse running free across a plain.”
“It was really intense for me, too. I wasn’t sure I could control it, and I didn’t want to scare or hurt you.”
She smiled faintly. “You’ve been teaching me a lot about sex, Matt. This is just another new facet for me. And I liked it. A lot.”
“Well, it’s something we need to communicate about before we do it. Both people have to want it, or it’s a no go.”
“I still feel your spirit animal around you. I know you laugh at me when I tell you this, but it’s true . . .”
He gave her a disarming look. “It’s your acute sensitivity picking up on something about me. When you love a person, don’t you think you’re in tune with them on all levels? Whatever those levels are?” He saw her expression turn thoughtful. Dara was like Tal, his big sister. Both were deep thinkers, and neither of them rattled off an answer to a question like many others would. Instead, they seriously thought about it before answering. He moved a silky curl of her hair through his fingers, far more sensitized to how it felt, the scent of it, the glistening beauty of the moonlight filtering around the drawn drapes at the other end of the room, highlighting some of the strands. Matt could feel her moving through layers of possible answers to him.
“I have always been sensitive, that’s true.” Dara’s brows moved down a little as she studied him. “But with you? Ever since I met you, Matt, we’ve shared something much deeper. Unknowable to me, but I can feel and sense it around you. I like being sensitive toward you.” She caressed his cheek, looking into his narrowed eyes, feeling his love for her. It was so real. So wonderful. “Remember how I told you that you weren’t vulnerable to me sometimes? That I felt as if you were giving me a piece of yourself, but not all of you?”
Nodding, he took her hand, placing a slow, wet kiss in her open palm, hearing a soft intake of her breath, watching her eyes widen as he gave her pleasure from that small but oh so meaningful act. “I do.”
“Tonight . . . just now . . .” Dara began haltingly, her voice suddenly quavering with barely restrained tears. “I-I felt all of you, Matt. For the first time. That’s the only way I can describe it. At first, I knew something was happening, but I didn’t understand what it was, because I was so drugged by you, your fierceness, your passion, your need for me. It was so intense that I felt overwhelmed, utterly consumed—but in a good way—by it.”
“It was the same for me, sweetheart.”
“Did it feel good for you?”
“Yes, I was like you: floating and euphoric. In fact”—Matt smiled at her, kissing her soft mouth, never able to get enough of her—“turn over onto your hands and knees. I’m still feeling it right now. I want to take you from the rear . . .” He saw radiance in Dara’s eyes at the suggestion, and she did as he asked. Matt knew this was her favorite position, and it was his, too.
Coming up behind her, Matt settled his hands over her rounded cheeks, holding them firmly as he thrust his hips slowly forward into her wet, ready entrance. It was as if his recovery time almost didn’t exist any longer. “And I want that same incredible sensation and feeling I shared with you before.” Whatever was happening, it was driving him so profoundly he could barely control himself or his urge, which nearly overwhelmed him. Matt needed her in every possible way.
Dara moaned his name, pressing her hips back against him, establishing a slow, delicious rhythm between them, her juices flowing heavily as he made her forget everything but him. Matt gripped her hips more firmly, guiding her, absorbing her eager thrust against him, just as hungry as he was. Once more, that powerful intensity overtook him, making him feel that same primal shift as she responded to his invitation. Each time he pulsed deeply and slowly into her, more fluids gathered on the walls of her channel, making it easy for him to slide and stroke those sensitive nerves.
Dara pushed against him, the feeling primitive and delicious. There was a surrendering over to him taking place within her. She realized in some barely functioning part of her mind that he was now utterly open to her, unveiling himself to her in every possible way. That sweet discovery sent an exhilarating wave of love spiraling through her, and it made her moan with gratification. She felt her undying love moving toward Matt, encircling his heart, encircling his soul; it was so profound that tears came to her closed eyes as she lifted her hips, receiving each hard, hungry thrust into her. In her urgency to mate with him, her wandering mind was rapidly dissolving. Dara was caught in the grip of this fever overtaking her, making her wild, carnal, and needy.
As his teeth rasped against her exposed nape, she began to come undone, a hoarse cry tearing at her as the bolts of pleasure struck downward through her, making her channel feel combustible. Dara cried out as she felt a violent, supercharged orgasm release deep within her. She couldn’t stop crying out from the intensity of the tsunami-like undulations racing through her; she arched her back, freezing, as the pleasure was so deep and shocking that she could no longer move. But Matt did move. She heard that low rumble within his chest, felt him grip her nape gently between his teeth, trapping her in that position so she couldn’t move.
Her mind exploded and she was once more caught in that primal, raw animal within her, making sounds of gratification. Her nostrils flared, her eyes tightly shut, lips parted, arching until she thought her spine would snap, the grating, raw pleasure nearly paralyzing her as Matt continued to milk her body. And then, just as she had nearly exhausted herself, he climaxed.
Dara felt her heart surge with love for Matt. The sensation flooded her every cell. It was as if bright light, sparkling like fireflies, was radiating through her entire body, singing a song only it knew. The joy stunned her as Matt snarled her name, gripping her nape, the pain turning to pleasure as he climaxed again. She was frozen into that animal-like position, and she gloried in his second release, which was nearly as powerful as the first one. He let her nape go, licked the area, soothing it, kissing it, and slowly eased out of her.
Matt turned her over, positioning Dara on her back. She opened her arms to him as he spread her thighs, coming to rest between her knees. He leaned down, taking her mouth roughly, kissing her, breathing his breath into her, infusing himself into her on every level. Dara felt as if she were in another universe, enjoying a hedonism that few would ever experience. And she was living it with Matt. The pleasure intensified to the point where Dara felt herself floating off into the darkness, fainting from the overwhelming feelings that deluged all her ripened, opened senses.