He would be here when she woke, so she didn’t wake alone and frightened. No matter how long she slept, he’d be here, holding her when she came back.
NINETEEN
IT was nearly two in the morning before Ramie finally stirred. Caleb had lain tensely beside her all afternoon and evening, worrying over the fact she’d been out for so long. The moment he felt her move, he tensed and glanced at the clock beside his bed. He’d only just fallen into a light sleep.
A low whimper of distress escaped her lips. His hand immediately cupped her cheek and he tilted his head so his lips covered hers. She went utterly still against him. He could practically hear her working it all out in her mind. Remembering the torment she’d endured and her sudden awareness of where she was now.
Her body shook with silent sobs. It broke his heart to hear how defeated and hopeless she sounded.
“You aren’t alone, Ramie,” he whispered against her ear.
“He killed her. Oh God, Caleb, he killed her. He used her to bait me.”
“Shhh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
Her fingers curled into his chest and her lips turned up against his neck. He felt the dampness on her cheeks and he kissed one of the tear trails away.
“Make me forget,” she said brokenly. “Please. I can’t bear it. She’s all I can see. And all I know is that I failed her.”
Caleb shook her a little, placing himself on eye level with her as he stared fiercely at her. “You did not fail her, Ramie. If you want to start assigning blame, then blame the right person. That sick bastard out there stalking you.”
He rubbed his hand up and down her back, underneath the hem of her T-shirt, up her bare spine to her nape. He trailed his fingers around to her stomach and then up, molding her breast in his palm.
His lips stuttered over hers, sucking in her sob, her breath, and returning it in a heated rush. His thumb rasped over her nipple, teasing it to a puckered, rigid peak. Her arm slid around his waist, anchoring herself against him. Her hand splayed wide over his back just as he rolled her underneath him, pushing her shirt upward with his right hand.
His skin was on fire, wanting, needing to touch her, to caress her. He’d never been so patient and gentle before. He wasn’t sure she even knew what she’d asked him, and he’d never take advantage of her. He gave her time to tell him no, to change her mind, and then he wondered if he should say no for her, if she would hate him for making love to her.
“Ramie, baby.”
Her lips whispered over his neck, up to his ear, where she nipped the lobe, sending a cascade of chills spilling over his skin.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasped. “Be sure. I’ve already done enough to make you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she whispered back. “I understand. You don’t have to keep explaining, Caleb. I’m so cold. Keep me warm.”
His knee nudged her legs apart, rubbing over the thin material of her underwear. She shivered when his fingers dipped below the band and into her plush folds. She was damp, but not wet enough to take him yet.
He pulled her shirt up over her head then wrestled with his own as her hands tangled, trying to take it off him. There was a sense of urgency even as he tried to slow the pace down. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He didn’t want her to do something she’d regret. But at the same time he wanted her with a desperation he’d never felt for a woman before.
It was hard to temper his urges. He wasn’t used to denying himself anything. He’d never had to.
But Ramie was special. So fragile. He touched her like she was precious and breakable, his mouth glancing over her satiny skin. Her taste was sweet on his tongue. His tongue swirled around her nipples, his mouth sucking them to hard points. She gasped frantically, bucking upward, pushing herself farther into his mouth.
“Please, Caleb,” she pleaded.
The hell she’d ever have to beg him for anything he could provide.
“Be sure, Ramie. Before I get inside you. Be very sure this is what you want. I’ll stop now. All you have to do is tell me no.”
She put her fingers to his lips, suddenly going still beneath him.
“I need you.”
The simple elegance of her statement unraveled him. There was stark vulnerability in her words. He was achingly hard and yet he’d deny himself for her, to protect her. In order not to hurt her. He’d hurt her already. Enough for two lifetimes. He could never forget that even if she could.
He kissed a line down the center of her chest, his hands skating down her sides to pull at her panties. She arched, bowing up off the bed to allow him to slide her underwear down her legs. Her thighs fell open. He inhaled her scent, his body throbbing with heavy need.