He withdrew until the head of his cock barely rimmed her entrance, and then he shoved back in, rippling through her slick flesh, sending aftershock upon aftershock coursing through her abdomen.
Her nipples tightened and dug into his chest like diamond points. Each movement abraded the ultrasensitive peaks until she was sure she was going to come apart.
“I want you there,” he murmured next to her ear. “You with me, Lyric. I won’t come until you’re there.”
“Oh God,” she panted. “I’m almost there, Connor. I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’m going to break into a million pieces. Please. Don’t hold back. Harder.”
Her words seemed to unleash the beast he held in tight rein. A sound of near pain, harsh in the silence, ripped from his throat. He gathered her tightly to him, wrapping his arms around her, pulling up as he plunged deep and hard.
His thighs slapped against hers and their bodies made wet sucking sounds as he pounded into her over and over.
The world went blurry around her. She closed her eyes, dizzy as she splintered and seemed to sail in a dozen different directions.
Her body was so tight, painfully so, that she cried out, begging for release.
And then she was catapulted up and over, free-falling at a hundred miles an hour. Her orgasm went on and on, never ending, wave upon wave crashing through her body.
He was coming too, his body commanding hers, owning her, possessing her. His.
She went limp beneath him, no longer able to even keep her legs or arms around him. He was in the last throes of his orgasm as he twitched and continued to thrust, easier and slower now as he slid in and out of her.
“Lyric,” he whispered and gathered her close to him, holding her as he breathed harshly in her ear.
He turned, rolling them to their sides, and pressed her face into his neck as he stroked her hair, her back, over her buttocks and back up again.
“I love you. God, I love you.”
Her heart stuttered, took a painful leap in her chest that stole her breath. She went still as his words drifted over her ears, quiet and sincere.
Her throat tightened, so tight it sent a wave of panic through her body.
Afraid that she’d completely lose her composure, she tried to push away from him and roll from the bed. But he caught her and held her, refusing to let her up.
It set off another wave of panic and she twisted and tried to sit up.
Connor rolled until she was underneath him once more. His body covered hers and he stared down at her with glittering eyes. She expected anger, but what she saw was grim determination.
“Goddamn it, Lyric, I just told you I loved you and you act like you can’t get away fast enough.”
She swallowed and shook her head helplessly as tears filled her eyes.
“I’ve been patient. I’ve let you run. But I’m not letting you run any longer. I want to know what the hell is going on and why you bolt every time we have sex.”
CHAPTER 28
Connor stared down at the panic in her eyes. Her entire body was tense and there was a wildness that reminded him of a spooked animal about to take flight.
He knew he was taking a huge risk by forcing the issue. He could lose her. She could shut down and freeze him out, but he had to try. Damn it, he had to try. He couldn’t just give up and let her walk away. Not when this was the most important moment of his entire life.
“Stay with me, Lyric,” he said in a low voice. “Stay with me and explain why me telling you I love you has you in such a panic.”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered. “It’s not real.”
“Doesn’t mean anything? Do you think I said that to get into your pants? Do you think I go around telling every woman I’ve slept with that I love her? I’ve got news for you, baby. I’ve already been in as deep inside you as a man can get. I didn’t need the words to make love to you. I didn’t have to say them now. But goddamn it, I love you. That’s real. It doesn’t get any more real.”
An endless stream of tears leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. His chest ached so bad he wanted to cry with her. Whatever had hurt her, whatever had destroyed her faith in love, was killing him as well.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “I’m begging you not to walk away from this. I think you feel something for me too. Am I wrong? Did I get you all wrong?”
Slowly she shook her head as more silver trails slid from her eyes.
A tiny twinge of relief loosened the knot in his throat. It was an admission. A reluctant admission, but at least she hadn’t denied feeling something for him. He could work with that.
He shifted his weight to the side so he could discard the condom, and he hoped she wouldn’t use the opportunity to bolt. But she lay there on her back, staring up at the ceiling as tears etched a crooked path on her face.
She looked tired. Fragile. And scared.
He reached a tentative hand to brush away the moisture on her cheek. “Will you talk to me? Do you trust me enough to tell me what’s hurt you so badly?”
For a long moment she lay there, unmoving, quiet, as if gathering herself. To run? Or to confide in him? He couldn’t say with any authority which of the two she was leaning toward. Maybe she didn’t know herself.
When she finally did stir, he tensed, and then she rolled slightly until she faced him with haunted eyes. He wanted to do a fist pump. She’d made her decision and she was still with him. Still next to him. But he remained still, waiting for the revelation that was buried deep.
“My real name is Carly Winters. And you were right. I was born and raised in the South. Covington County, Mississippi.”
She waited a moment as if grappling with whether to go on. He willed himself not to stir, not to react. He didn’t want to do anything to change her mind.
“My father—my real father—left my mother when I was a baby. For a long time it was just me and her. We were dirt-poor but I was happy. She loved me and did her best. I adored her. She encouraged me to sing. In the evenings, I’d sing to her while she did dishes. She said she never got tired of hearing her baby’s voice. She always swore I’d be a star.”
She drew in a deep breath. “When I was nine, she met Danny Higgins. At first it was nice. She was so happy. So alive. I hadn’t realized how hard it had been on her until then. Suddenly she had help. She wasn’t alone. We moved in with him after they got married. He insisted my mother didn’t work. She’d worked two jobs until then. She worked in a local factory during the week and she waitressed in a café on the weekends.
“I can remember thinking that it was the start of a great new life for us. Suddenly we didn’t have to worry about where our next meal would come from. She no longer had to bring home leftovers from the café, and for the first time ever, she bought me new clothes from the rack in a store instead of getting them from Goodwill or neighbors who gave us their kids’ castoffs.
“But it didn’t last,” she said faintly. “Danny had a quick temper. It got even nastier when he’d drink. It was the whole cliché, stereotypical abusive husband. He’d drink. Hit my mom. Get sober. Apologize. I still think to this day she only stayed because I had a better life. Or at least she thought I did.”
Dread curled in Connor’s stomach. He had a very good idea of where this was headed and it made him ill.
“Danny lost his well-paying job and he yelled at my mom that it was time for her to start carrying her weight. She went back to work at the factory. Waitressed on weekends. It seemed all she did was work. She’d come home tired and have to contend with Danny’s nasty moods. I did everything I could to make things easier for her. I cooked. I cleaned.”