His lips turned up in a ghost of a smile just before he kissed her. His tongue brushed hers as he pushed into her again. “Me, too.”
Teeth grazing her lips, soft sexy noises in his throat, hips rolling slowly, eyes on her, always on her. Dade was hers now. Arching her back, she relaxed her muscles as he pushed into her so deeply he brushed the oversensitive place between her legs. Gentle grip on her hair, his thumb stroked her bottom lip as he leaned in to kiss her again, his graceful body warming hers, covering hers, protecting hers. She was safe here with him. Safe in his arms. Coveted against these sheets in the eyes of the man she was falling into, falling for, falling with. Pushing in, easing out, building the inferno inside of her. Pressure stretched from her middle until she gasped out his name. So close.
His arms trembled and his breath shook as he drank her in, watching her, touching her reverently. Gripping his wrists, desperate to keep his touch close, she bucked against him and closed her eyes as soft crashing waves pulsed around his swollen shaft. She opened her eyes to watch him, this beautiful, masculine, feral man who was showing her how tender he could be.
His hips rocked faster against hers. Three more strokes, and he brushed his teeth against her shoulder, then searched her eyes. God, she wished he could see himself through her eyes. Strong, loyal…loved. Dade froze, muscular arms flexed as he groaned. Warmth filled her in hot jets as he bucked into her, and as he throbbed inside of her, matching her own release, he cupped her face like she was precious, and kissed her lips softly with his own.
Quinn ran her nails up and down his back as they lay there, tangled up together, bodies melded, kisses gentle. The first tear slipped the corner of her eye before she even realized she was crying.
Easing back, Dade wicked the drop of moisture away and frowned. Still whispering in the soft light of his room, he asked, “Are you okay?”
She nodded and let off a thick laugh. She pulled his palm to her mouth and let her lips linger there as she tried to get ahold of her emotions. “I’m just happy is all.”
Smiling, Dade pulled out of her slowly, then rolled off beside her. Pulling her back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed the back of her neck. “I’m happy, too.”
His satisfied sigh tickled her shoulder blades, and when she stretched back against him like an overgrown cat, he pressed his lips against her hair. His warmth disappeared from her back for a moment, and a country song sounded from his stereo before he returned and pulled her more firmly against his chest.
Soft guitar notes filled the air as a crooner sang about a woman with a wild spirit he’d fallen in love with.
“Mmm, I like this song,” she said languidly.
“What else do you like?”
She frowned at the wall, trying to come up with a good answer. “You know, it has been so long since anyone asked me about myself. And now it feels like there is nothing interesting about me.”
“That’s not true at all,” Dade murmured, plucking her earlobe gently with his lips. “I want to know everything. I want to know what made you into this shy, caring woman.”
“I like animals.”
“That’s a given.”
“And I like riding my bike. I like being outdoors. And I like…I like you.” Her voice faded to a whisper.
“You said you mourned Jay with his mother. What about your mother? Was she there for you?”
Quinn gritted her teeth and closed her eyes at the momentary slash of pain through her insides. “I don’t have a mother, or a father. And it’s not some tragic tale of losing them or anything like that before you start thinking I’m pitiful. They gave me up for adoption when I was five.”
“Jesus. Do you remember them?”
“I know I’m supposed to, because I was old enough, but I really don’t. I mean, no blurry faces in my dreams or anything. I just sort of…let them go.”
“Who raised you?”
“I was in the foster care system until I was released at eighteen. The last ten years were spent with one family though, and it wasn’t so bad. A woman named Meryl Brady took me in, along with a revolving plethora of other foster kids. And she wasn’t one of those people trying to scam the government for money, either. She got paychecks for us, but she put that money straight back into feeding us and buying us clothes and getting us school supplies. It was a situation where the older kids raised the younger ones because her husband had passed away, and she was working two jobs to make ends meet. Sometimes I think that’s maybe why I tend to be quieter. There were a lot of loud personalities in that house, and the cast never stayed the same for long. I was a little overwhelmed with everything, I think. Anyway, it wasn’t a bad childhood. Not like it could’ve been. It was different from most people’s, but it was all I knew, so I didn’t feel jipped or anything.”