PerpetualPleasure (16 page)

God, how he loved seeing her like that, just like that,
giving in to the pleasure he wanted to share with her. Only her. He wanted to
memorize every minute expression, every uninhibited response. He wanted to see
if her pleasure could burn brighter, how much hotter she could make him burn
because he was about to disintegrate.

Her hands flew to his upper arms, her nails digging into his
shoulders. She impaled herself on him slowly, so slowly, her snug pussy closing
around his cock, her inner muscles fondling his dick like a burnished vise. She
stroked over him with every roll of her hips, every sway back and forth.

Mac heard himself wail. He gripped her hips, held her in
place.

“Not so fast,” he panted.

She leaned forward, nipped his lower lip, stared back at him
looking dazed, as dizzy as he felt. “If I go any slower I’ll stop. You don’t want
me to stop, do you, Mac?” Her pussy flooded around him, her muscles clenching
the pumped-up crown embedded inside her. Lucie braced her hands against his
chest and slid back down on a moan. She lifted, pushed down farther, lifted,
staring back at him, and put all her weight into the next downward stroke.

“Lucie! Fuck.” Sweat dripped down his temple now, dampened
his chest.

Lucie shook, shuddered. “I love it, Mac.”

It. Not him. The sex. Just the sex.

“It’s good. So good.” Her voice was thick, a feminine bellow
of satisfaction. Rocking against him she pressed down then lifted. Slow and
easy she took every hard, heavily veined inch of his cock inside, shuddering
with the pleasure. That rapture marked her expression, filled her eyes. She was
breathing hard, choppy little breaths that told him she was lost in the hunger,
as lost in the passion as he was.

Her pleasure intensified his, blistered through him, the
look on her face nearly overthrowing him. Mac could feel himself losing his
grip on the release that threatened to erupt from his balls. Lucie, like a
dream come true, straddled on his lap, tight in his arms, driving him crazy
with pleasure. Strong but vulnerable, sexy yet so innocent.

The need to thrust inside her was making him insane. Lucie
kept impaling herself on him with measured strokes. Then, one fast, hard thrust
that pinned her to his groin and had her shouting his name. Her body undulated
against him, rising and falling, her face aglow as if she loved nothing more
than the feel of his body. Ached for it as much as he yearned for hers.

God, to spend every waking moment like this, with Lucie
taking her pleasure of him, riding his cock as though she couldn’t help it. She
was the picture of sensual enjoyment, her face flushed, her eyes dark and wild,
her breasts swollen and her nipples so hard they were the lushest raw berries
he’d ever had the pleasure of suckling. And her pussy… Christ, if he was forced
to leave that milky, fiery sheath before he’d filled her to the brim he would
expire.

“Feel that, honey? Ah fuck,” he groaned, shook his head but
it didn’t help. It didn’t clear his thoughts. Where the hell was the sensualist
he claimed being? Where the hell was the hedonist who could draw it out until
his lover was satisfied and he was good and ready to start building his own
climax?

Ferocious need now throbbed through his mind, his entire
system. Somewhere beneath that longing another flame blazed, one he fought to
smother. That surge of possessiveness mixed with fear. A knowledge that what he
felt now, with her, he might never feel again with anyone else.

Mac thought he saw the same knowledge in her eyes. Maybe
even acceptance. He never heard the words, Lucie begging him to stay, telling
him she loved him. The words he longed for echoed in his mind. He silenced
them, concentrated on the hunger they shared. He couldn’t have her but he could
dream. He would never have her but he would always have this. One perfect night
with the woman who would always be a dream almost come true.

“Fuck me.” The harsh command in his tone had Lucie stilling
for a second. She braced her hands against his chest, shifted, lifted and slid
back down. Hard.

His expression twisted. “Oh god.
Lucie.
” Her head
lowered to his shoulder and as if she had only been waiting for permission, she
lost control. Tugging at his hair, she pulled his head back. She rode him hard
and fast, licked and sucked at his skin, slamming her pussy onto his cock. She
took him to the hilt, her hips digging deeper down until she whimpered every
time she bottomed out, every time he touched her delicate cervix, praying he
wasn’t hurting her.

Unable to pull out or be gentler with her, powerless to
temper her desire or meter the roll of her hips against his, he took her hungry
fucking. Lifting his head, he took her mouth, pushed his tongue inside as she
purred his name.

Mac felt the tiny muscles start to quiver again, a torturous
clench locking down on his dick as she thrust up and down, kneaded her hips
against him and pumped his shaft over and over again.

“Mac, help me.
Oh god.
” He could feel her pleasure
expand, explode, all along the length of his dick. He felt the rush of ecstasy
that filled her as the orgasm washed over her, as she came all over him,
gasping his name. Her arms tight around him, Lucie sobbed with pleasure, her
mouth on his, her sultry nipples searing his chest.

She shuddered, writhing against him. He held her easily,
slanted his lips over hers and holding her to him he tried to push deeper
still. And she took him, all of him, all the way to his balls. He could feel
the ultra-tight depths of her pussy from the tip of his cock to the base.

He stared into her, forced her to look back, to acknowledge
even if silently that she felt something—anything—as he watched her. As if the
mere act, the intimacy they shared, would clinch something. As if the need
alone connected them as she had never imagined possible, forged a bond that
could break through the spell and put her under a new one, a stronger one,
where she wouldn’t deny him but give him everything, all of her.

She stared back at him, her body jerking at the surges of
pleasure that still rocked through her as he thrust harder. “What do you want,
Lucie? Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

Her fingers in his hair, her breath hot on his skin, she moaned
against his mouth. “I want to feel it. Let me feel you come in my pussy.
Fill
me.
”

He meant to hold back a while longer, he really did. His
cock pulsed, tightened, screaming for release. He clasped her hips and started
moving beneath her, harder, faster, surging into the tight grip clenching
around his dick.

She wouldn’t stop milking his cock. She wouldn’t stop
ravaging his soul with her every response to him. A second later he cried out.
“Lucie!” A curse, a prayer, Mac spilled inside her. Violent jets of semen
blasted from his balls as he powered inside her. He plunged deep, driving his
cock into the snug wet grip of her spasming pussy.

Straining at each other, Mac held her in his arms as she
shuddered against him. His body quivered with the brutality of the pounding
pleasure that churned his core. Her moans echoed his devastation. Lucie’s eyes
locked with his, reflecting his total surrender. The lack of emotion she so
often displayed was gone. What he saw now was a sea of emotion.

Her eyes looked shattered. As shattered as he felt.

“
Tha gaol agam ort
,” she whispered. I love you.

“What was that, sweetie?”

Lucie struggled to keep her eyes opened as the lethargy of
afterglow threatened to take over. “A Highland…compliment.”

Mac nuzzled her neck. “You just said something awful, didn’t
you?”

The last thing she could ever utter out loud.

Lucie didn’t know what to say, how much to reveal. Buying
some time, she peppered kisses on the hard plane of his shoulder, on the
polished surface of his throat, tracked back and forth over his sculptured arms
and muscle-domed back with her hands.

“No, I said that you’re built like a god, you kiss like the
devil and make love like a heavenly angel. That you’re as well-endowed between
the legs as you are between the ears.”

Something in her whispered,
And you’re mine
.
The certainty pierced through any lingering doubt and every objection. Mac
belonged to her. And she belonged to him.

“All that, huh?” His touch was light but his voice was oddly
dark.

Lucie opened her eyes, jerked up her chin. The sight of him
nearly broke her heart. She could see everything he was holding back as
securely as she was. Love and need, real and desperate, flickered in his eyes.

What she felt in that moment, what she’d felt since the
moment he’d waltzed into her life, assured her there were things beyond
physical pleasure, that things beyond carnal ecstasy did exist. Mac said they
did. She knew it now. She could see it in him, she could feel it in her as
those emotions welled inside, beat at her brain, glowed in her soul.

Allowing Mac to watch her closely during sex, letting Mac
pleasure her so deeply, so completely, was nothing short of a total role
reversal for her. She never imagined she could be that brave or let herself be
immersed in her sexuality to the point of total surrender, to the point nothing
else mattered but the next joint breath, nothing else existed but his next
caress. And she never imagined there would be no regret. Because no sensation
on earth compared.

She had thought their lovemaking would be rife with the
hunger she had seen in his eyes, the raw lust his body emanated. It had been
intense but it hadn’t been sex, she realized. Or not only sex. It had been
personal, sensual, emotional even. Uncomplicated, natural, right,
just like Mac had promised it could be. She was too far gone to be terrified of
how connected she felt to him as he still watched her closely, whispered how
beautiful she was, how amazing it felt to be inside her.

She had feared one day a man she wouldn’t be able to resist
would come along. She’d rationalized that fear, called it survival instinct.
Now she was glad MacCale had been the one to see through her, right into her,
and help her kill the loneliness, even if it was for a fleeting moment. She
didn’t feel that loneliness now. Gradually, the tension locking her muscles
abated. All she felt was his warmth as he surrounded her, perspiration draping
their bodies, a soul-deep trust that in his arms she was safe to rest.

Maybe. As he gently caressed her hair, Lucie swore he was
growing hard again. “Oh god, Mac. I don’t think I can take another round.”

His eyes flashed gold. “Of course you can, honey,” he
drawled. “And then some. I’m going to fuck this sweet pussy. I’m going to bathe
it. Then I’m going to tongue-bathe it. Make love to you again then fuck you
some more. How does that sound?”

The first giggle of the century passed her lips.
“Exhausting.”

“Your pussy begs to differ. I can feel it rippling, baby.
Can you feel my dick pound just thinking about it?”

Actually, she could. The muscles around his scrotum worked,
made his cock jerk inside her pussy. His breathing turned rough, furnace blows
against her neck as he once again snuggled her.

“Five months with nothing more than dreams and memories to
keep me going. You really think a couple of thrusts will sate my hunger for
you, Lucie?”

“You’ve made me so sensitive, it’ll be the shortest
performance in the history of intercourse. I’ll come in seconds.”

His laughter was playful but unyielding. “So be it. Come
anytime you want, honey. As many times as you need.” He stared back at her, his
lashes heavy, his expression completely sensual. “I guarantee you I’ll enjoy it
as much as you do. I won’t feel used, promise.”

Mac gripped her by the waist and lifted her against him to
arrange her legs and lay her on the bed. He settled behind her and cradled her
in his arms. One hand briefly clenched on her hip then slid to the curve of her
ass. He stroked over her butt cheek, moved to graze the other, murmuring in
approval. Lucie shivered as the broad palm switched course and skated over her
hip to her mound.

“Mac?” It wasn’t a real question. She knew what was coming.
Her belly quivered with anticipation, her pussy clenching with fresh arousal as
his fingers probed between her labia, eased through the ample juices of her
release, of his. He rubbed around her swollen, throbbing clit, forcing her
thighs to clamp on his hand and her eyes to shut tight.

“I—” Lucie gasped. “
Oh god.
I wouldn’t do that if I
were you.”

His fingers slid to her lips, found the edges of her
opening. He stroked up and down, the base of his palm firm on her clit. “Then
I’m glad you’re not because I have no intention of stopping.” Two fingers
spread her entrance to allow two other broad digits to drive inside. He held
still, let her savor the feel of him. “Do you want me to stop? Speak now,
Lucie, or for the rest of the night hold your peace.” He drew back his fingers,
slick, thick moisture slipping from her pussy.

“Well?”

He spread the heavy juices on her clit, all over her labia,
proof of his conquest and her willing surrender.

“No, I don’t want you to stop.”

“That’s the spirit, baby.” His hand withdrew, Mac moving to
kneel beside her. Lucie turned on her back and in a flash he was on her, dark,
demanding, so damn sexy it stole her breath.

“Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me,” he said.

Staring up at him staring down at her in hunger, Lucie
complied.

“You’re so fucked,” he growled.

Mac jerked back. A second later, she felt heaven.

Chapter Eleven

Lucie woke up to the sound of shattering glass. Shooting
upright in the bed, she found herself in the sleeping porch draped in multiple
covers and the glaring daylight.

MacCale was gone. And something had broken, upstairs maybe.
Something big or heavy or both. The glass-paned French doors at the top of the
staircase? Was he hurt?

Sleepy languor morphing into a state of near panic in
seconds, Lucie bolted from the bed and dashed into the hall.

“Mac?” No answer.

The phone. Where the hell was her purse, she needed her
phone. What if he was unconscious, bleeding to death somewhere?
“Mac?”

Still no answer.

Her purse lay where she had tossed it last night, on the
table in the entrance hall. Lucie upended the bag, the contents spilling on the
table, some rolling over the edge and to the floor. Something shattered at her
feet as she found the cell phone. Sidestepping the debris around her, she
sprinted to the stairs.

“Mac?”

She found the French doors intact but no sign of MacCale.
Going from room to room, Lucie checked the second floor, her fingers poised to
call 9-1-1 the second she found him. Something was wrong. Why else wouldn’t he
answer her?

A sickening crunching sound caught her attention, someone
stomping on broken glass in the antiques room. All strength seemed to desert
her, Lucie moving as if through quick sand as she took the last steps to find
MacCale where he had no business being. MacCale standing tall and unmoving and
staring at the box he’d uncovered, the box that held damnation.

As he looked up at her without saying a word, a hard,
hell-bent look in his amber eyes, Lucie knew. At that same instant she knew
what he was thinking. He was thinking of opening that box.

The phone dropped to the floor on a muted thump.

“I couldn’t do it,” he said.

Thank God. He
had
thought about it. Thank God he had
come to his senses.

Thank you thank you thank you.

“I couldn’t leave.”

Oh.
Oh.
Relief drained from her body. Fear crept in,
settling low in her belly, a paralyzing pain in her chest even when her heart
galloped like mad.

“I tried walking out. I really did,” Mac said. “Told myself
that’s what you want, that I was doing us both a favor. Then it hit me. And I
knew. I knew what to do. You need time. Just as Boyd said. So I’ll give you
time. All the time you need to get used to the idea you’re not alone.”

Oh god.
“Mac…”

“I should have locked that door. I thought I’d get this show
on the road before you woke up.” His voice was eerily calm but it did nothing
to soothe her growing dread.

“I need for you to wait outside, honey. Who knows what
another shot might do to you.”

“MacCale,
please
…” Her words were a watery, urgent
plea, her eyes flooding with tears of terror.

“Be a good girl and close the door. And no peeking.” With
that remark, he turned back to look at the box. Only then did Lucie notice the
Katana sword he had taken down from among the antique weaponry, hidden behind
his massive left thigh.

Lucie felt like slapping herself. She needed to toughen up,
a minute ago. She hadn’t shed a tear for a man for generations, and now this
man, this incredible, majestic man had her weeping like a child at every turn.
He had opened her up, uncovered a world of stunning sensations…

And he deserved so much more than this.

“You’re a fearless badass, I get that. You’re a man who’s
used to getting his way. But you’re also an honorable man. You would never do
anything to hurt me. You said you were falling in love with me, remember? If
it’s true—if it still stands—you step away from that case and step out of this
room never to enter again.”

That made him look back at her, but his expression hadn’t
changed. His stance was pure male determination, his eyes hard and resolute.

Lucie felt like screaming.

“Oh, it’s true, baby. And in one way I’m like every man who
has ever fallen under your spell. You had me the moment you decided to have me.
But in one department I stand out from every man and his brother. I made up my
mind up to have you too. And I did. I do.”

“Yes you do. I’m yours for the rest of your life, Mac, I
swear, but this—”

He raised his hand, making Lucie freeze midsentence. “You’re
wrong on one account. You introduced me to a whole new level of fear. The fear
of losing you when I grow old. But that tenacious bastard in me insists on
fixing that as well.”

MacCale laid the sword down then, walked up to her with
purpose, scooped Lucie in his arms and started for the door across the hall.
Her bedroom.

“This isn’t some stunt you can retake, Mac. You can’t go
back and reverse it. Ever. Do this and I will hate you for it.”

“I’ll ride you hard and make you forget all about it.”

“Do this, and you will end up hating me too.”

“I’m old enough to know what I want and experienced enough
to follow through and handle the consequences.”

“It’s not a gift, MacCale. It’s a curse and I don’t want it
upon you. I’ll be with you but it can’t be like this. If you love me, you
won’t. Please tell me you won’t!”

“It’s because I love you that I will. I can’t change the
past. I can’t undo what happened to you. But I can be with you in the future.”

Hearing him say that broke through Lucie’s shocked inertia
and made her pound at him, made her shout and growl. MacCale ducked as if it
was nothing, set her down and gave a stern stare.

“Don’t follow me, Lucie. Do
not
come to me. I’ll come
to you when it’s over. However long it takes, you do not open that door until I
know it’s safe. Do you understand me?”

She glared at him and said nothing.

“Don’t make me tie you up, baby. What if it takes the rest
of the week?”

Lucie pinched her mouth shut, crossed her arms over her
chest and slumped against the cushions. He propped his hands beside her hips
and leaned in to press a featherlight kiss on her lips.

Her nails biting into her palms, Lucie fought the urge to
take hold of him and kiss him back. She needed to think of something and fast.
She couldn’t think of anything besides latching on to him until he was forced
to hurt her to pry her hands away. MacCale would hate himself and it would be
her fault.

He straightened and started back for the doorway. About to
step out, he paused and turned back to her, his eyes blazing with purpose.

Tha gaol agam ort.
“I love you,” she whispered. And
found herself squashed against the backrest as MacCale descended upon her in a
deluge of heat and intensity. “What did you just say?” His eyes were feverish,
his voice threatening thunder. God, how she loved to watch him burn.

“I said that if you go through with it, I will never say it
again.”

Lucie stared into the narrowed eyes of the most amazing man
she had ever known.

“You chose me, Lucie. I choose you too.”

His voice was steady and clear. Hers was no more than a
high-pitched wail of agony that sparked her body back to life and sent MacCale
running across the hall. Lucie darted after him without knowing what else she
could do but ready to attempt anything to stop him from ruining his life.

MacCale didn’t know what he was in for. He didn’t know what
the hell he was getting into but hell was what he would face if she didn’t stop
him.

Only he was faster. Lucie reached the door as it closed in
on her and locked. “No.
No.
No!
” It was her voice, ringing over
and over in her head, a cry, a scream, a desperate plea falling on deaf ears.
Those had to be her hands banging on the door but she couldn’t feel them,
didn’t register the hurt, the blood on her knuckles or the cracking nails.

“Mac!”

Thinking she heard something, Lucie went stone still and
closed her eyes. She pressed her cheek against the door and tried to listen in
on him, trying to catch some sound, some proof of life, mortal or eternal.

She knew what would happen next. As clearly as she
remembered the day she had entered into her endless existence she could see
MacCale taking hold of the golden clasp and unlocking the box, readying himself
to open the lid, deciding to only take a quick peek, just a sneaky little peek…

As all hell broke loose beyond the door, Lucie lost control
of her body. She heard MacCale’s massive roar, could almost see him slamming
the lid shut tight again. He would stagger and heave as he lost control of his
sight and breathing. He would fall on his knees, just as Lucie had fallen on
hers, just as she now fell again, slithering down the door, her eyes dry, her
body in shock.

She could hear MacCale gasping for air and trembled
violently. She heard him try to yell something and hugged herself tightly. She
listened in as the sounds of struggle and distress gradually lessened, then
died out.

Everything was still. Everything was quiet.

If he dies, I don’t want this life anymore.

If he is dead, please let me die too.

Gods or demons, angels or devils, whoever you are, if you
have him, take me too.

I can’t live without him.

I won’t.

* * * * *

“
What
are you doing?”

“Clipping your nails. Man, your hands are tiny. You should
be glad I’ve practiced with Em.”

More than a little disoriented, Lucie noticed she was back
in her bedroom and in the bed, a hand towel spread on her lap. She remembered
waking up in the sleeping porch bed to find MacCale missing. She had gone after
him and—

All of what happened after she found him rained down on
Lucie in a torrent. He had willingly taken upon himself what she wouldn’t wish
on her worst enemy. She had been too weak to stop him. And he had been as
strong and decisive as ever.

It was the bravest, most stupid, unconditionally loving
thing anyone had ever done for her.

For her. All for her.

Sensing her strange mood, MacCale lifted his eyes from the
painstaking task of rescuing her ragged nails and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right? Am
I
all right?” Lucie swatted his
fingers, shooed away his hands. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing now that I know you’re okay, but you gave me quite
a scare, baby. I found you lying outside the door, pale and still as death,
your hands all bloody. Then you wouldn’t wake up and for a minute I thought I’d
fucked up. That the entity or whatever the hell it is had switched hosts.”

MacCale drew a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly. “Oh
god, Lucie—” He snatched her hands back in his. “It wouldn’t have been a life
worth living. Not without my queen.” He kissed her fingers below the cuts and
bruises he had cleaned up while she had been out.

“You should have listened, Mac. Didn’t you listen to a word
I said?”

His hands were gentle on hers. There was nothing soft in his
eyes, nothing but hardened resolve in his tone when he finally answered her. “I
don’t care what you said. Everything you’ve done says you want me too.”

Unbelievable. He obviously didn’t understand the situation,
the implications or the consequences of his actions.

Perplexed, Lucie shook her head. “Why aren’t you terrified?
You should be petrified. Unless you tell your family what you’ve done, you’ll
have to disappear in a few years. You’re running out of time already. You’ll
have to stop working. You’ll have to
cease to exist
. Leave everything
behind before people notice there’s something wrong with you. You’ll become a
fugitive, always on the run from your former life, from everyone and everything
you loved.”

He flashed her a maddeningly confident smile. “I will have
to give up stunt work eventually anyway. It’s what I do, not who I am. Who I am
is a man capable of doing more than one thing well.” He pinched her nose. “And
I’ll have you to run with. You seem to have done all right for yourself. In all
your incarnations.”

He was doing it again, Lucie marveled. Treating the
extraordinary as commonplace. He had no fucking idea.

Before she knew it, she had slapped him. Horrified, Lucie
squeezed the tingling palm against her chest. She could feel a mortified blush
creeping into her face. “Oh my god.
Oh my god
.
I’m sorry. I’m not
that woman. I’m. Not.”

Calmly, MacCale took the hand back in his. “I earned my
stripes throwing and taking punches, okay? I bet that hurt you more than it
hurt me.” To emphasize the point, he inspected her palm, gave it a soothing
kiss then placed it flat on his own. Entwining his fingers with hers, MacCale
squeezed her hand lightly.

“You think it was an on-the-spur-of-a-moment thing, but
you’re wrong. I’ve been looking for a solution all summer long. That box was
the only thing that stood between us. The last remaining obstacle. And my only
option. Rant and rave all you want, Lucie. You know I’m right.”

Still refusing to comprehend he had done it, voluntarily,
she said, “We’ll kill each other. Start to hate each other.”

MacCale merely rolled a shoulder. “Then we’ll spend some
time apart.”

“I don’t think I could stand that,” Lucie mumbled, still
deeply ashamed she had possibly hurt him in her shock.

Placing her hands to her sides, MacCale folded the towel and
set it aside with the clippers. “I don’t think I could stand that, either. But
if that’s what you need, that’s what I’ll give you. Whatever it takes, baby.
We’ll work it out. We can travel or we can stay here. Our secret is safe in
this town. And you’ll always be safe with me.”

He lifted her chin for a kiss. It was small and tentative,
as if he wasn’t sure if she would welcome it. “God, how I missed you, baby.”

Deciding to torture him just a little bit further, Lucie
didn’t reciprocate. She narrowed her eyes on him instead. If he felt unsure, he
never mentioned it. He smoothed the backs of his fingers over her cheek and
leaned into her to kiss her more deeply.