“I need—” Her voice broke off in a tortured groan.
At that moment, Jason needed nothing else but to satisfy her. She wanted. She needed. He’d be the man to deliver for her.
One of his hands worked her nipples as his fingers increased the strength and speed of his strokes on her clit. Her body shook. “Come for me, Hope.”
“I don’t think I can stop it,” she cried desperately.
“No stopping. Let go.” Jason tormented her body without mercy. He was ready to feel her come apart for him.
“Yes. Oh, God. Jason.” She panted; her body shook more, and she splintered in his arms.
Mine. She’s mine.
As she climaxed, Jason’s possessive instincts took hold, and he moved his hand from her breast and thrust two fingers into her channel, felt her muscles spasm and clench against them as she found her release. As he found his reward, her flesh tightened around his fingers and clutched at the digits as she came.
Her horrified scream brought him back to reality.
“No! Stop! No!” Hope thrashed against him, trying desperately to escape.
Jason tore his hands away and turned her body until he could hold her against his chest. “Hope. Stop. It’s okay, sweetheart. What happened?”
His heart pounded violently against his chest wall, and he clutched her body against his with a strong grip, unable to let her go.
What the hell was happening? It was almost as if she were possessed: her nails clawed at his chest, and her screams echoed through the bathroom, a bloodcurdling howl of pain and terror that he knew he’d never forget. “Hope,” he bellowed over her screams. “Talk to me.”
She calmed slowly, as though she were coming out of a daze. “Jason?” she sobbed.
“It’s me, baby. It’s me.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She put her face against his chest and wept.
He held her just like that, losing track of time. His hand ran over her wet hair and back until she stopped sobbing. Jamming a hand against the shower controls, he stopped the water and stepped out of the cubicle. She stood in the shower, not saying a word, as he dried her off with a towel. He ran the towel briefly over his own wet skin before he discarded it. Then, he picked her up and carried her to bed.
She shivered as he climbed in beside her, and he quickly brought her against him. “Do you want me to turn on the light?” he asked hoarsely, not sure what else he could do to help her. The room was dark, the shutters closed; only the light from the hallway gave the bedroom a very dim illumination.
“No.” She threw her leg over his and almost climbed on top of his body. “Don’t leave me, Jason.”
He released a tense breath and tightened his hold on her. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Jason’s decision was made right then and there: he would never go anywhere if Hope needed him.
Protective instincts had flared the moment he’d heard her scream, nearly giving him heart failure. He didn’t know what had happened, but he’d figure it out. Right now, all that mattered was the woman in his arms. He needed her to feel safe again.
He was awake a long time after she had fallen asleep, trying to will whatever demons that plagued her to go back to Hell. Eventually, after he was sure she slumbered peacefully in the shelter of his arms, Jason slept.
Hope woke early the next morning. Her limbs were still entwined with Jason’s, his arms holding her as if he protected her.
She slipped quietly out of the bed and got dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a forest green short-sleeved shirt. After brushing through the messy hair she hadn’t brushed out the night before, she scrounged through her makeup case until she found a clip to confine the wayward strands. She snatched her sneakers, her trusty Nikon and the case, and then snuck out of the bedroom just as the sun began to rise.
Jason stayed peacefully asleep—thank God!—so she didn’t have to do an early morning confrontation. Last night had been humiliating, and she wasn’t sure how to explain herself to him. She’d thought she was over extreme reactions, finally done with the terror that had eaten her alive from the incident that had occurred over three years ago.
I haven’t tried to have sex except for that night with Jason.
She hadn’t, and maybe she shouldn’t be experimenting now. Jason could make her body fly apart…but only up to a certain point. After finally finding some peace, she wasn’t certain she should do anything to relive the experience that had shattered her life.
She put on her tennis shoes—minus socks because she wasn’t going into the bedroom again to search for a pair—and went into the kitchen.