Page 12 of Possession

Or so she thought.

I drove deep, sending her up on her knees. She moaned and for a second, I worried I’d hurt her. Then she turned her head and shot me a glance through her loosened curls. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Goddamn this woman.

I pulled back and plunged again, forcing her ass in the air. She yanked on the headboard and the bedsprings squeaked as I repeated the move, slow and deep. And hard. So hard that every thrust pulled a cry from her throat. I could feel her building again, her pussy tightening around me with every drag of flesh on flesh.

When she came, she took me with her, yanking me into the depths of her need. Making it something we could share. I fisted a hand in her hair as I rode out the orgasm, slamming my hips into her ass and holding, holding while I drained into the condom. All the while wishing it was her I was spilling myself into, with no barriers. Nothing between us but skin.

I threw my head back and drew in great lungfuls of air. My skin was sheened with sweat, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Which was probably why I didn’t hear her tears.

Not at first.

By the time I did, she was sobbing, her head dipped between her stretched out arms.

“Grace. Grace, sweetheart, what is it? Are you hurting?” Panic made me trip over my words as I pulled back and jerked to my feet. I disposed of the condom and returned to undo the tie around her wrists. “If this hurt, you should’ve told me,” My voice was sharper than I intended, and she only cried harder.

“I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry, baby.”

I didn’t know what else to do, so I tossed the tie aside and rubbed the circulation back into her wrists before climbing back into bed. I was afraid to touch her, concerned I’d make things worse, but I went with instinct and draped my body carefully over hers. I hugged her tightly and pressed kisses to her hair, all the while whispering nonsense words that probably didn’t make a whit of difference.

But I had to do something.

She didn’t push me away, just turned over and hooked her arms around my neck. Her legs tangled with mine and I lowered my forehead to hers, willing her to speak. To tell me what I’d done, and how I could make it better.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” It could be the only explanation. I cupped her wet cheeks and smoothed her hair back with my thumbs. “I pushed.”

“No.” At my narrow-eyed look, she amended, “Okay, yes, but that’s what you do. I’m already used to it. It’s comforting in a way.”

I had to chuckle. “Like too tight underwear?”

“More like an underwire bra that pulls you in and lifts you up in all the right places.”

“Hmm.”

“I wasn’t crying because of you. Or maybe I was, a little.” She rubbed her cheeks. “You overwhelm me, you know? In all ways. And apparently, when you come really hard, stuff gets shaken loose. Emotions and all that crap.”

“Twice.” I didn’t realize what I’d said until she planted her small fist in my chest.

“You never quit.”

“Yes, I do. Shutting up now.”

She shook her head, smiling weakly even as her eyes grew shiny again.

My gut clenched. “Ah, Christ, you need to stop that.”

“They broke into my grandmother’s house.” Her chin wobbled as the tears slipped down her cheeks. In the faint light from the bedside table, their watery tracks seemed way too prominent.

She blew out a breath. “I know it’s yours now, but it was hers first. It was ours. She practically raised me. After my parents flaked out, Gram was all I had. She never let me feel the lack. I didn’t have siblings or much contact with my parents, but that didn’t matter. She was all the family I needed. Then she left me.”

When I started to argue, she shook her head. “I know she had no choice. It wasn’t her fault. But I’m still alone. The only thing that was keeping me going was getting my house back—and hating you.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “We see how that worked out, don’t we? No house, and here I am. Doing what, I don’t even fucking know. And now someone has it out for the only thing I have left of my grandmother.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t possibly guess at their motives.”

“No, but I’m almost positive they were there before. There are valuables left in the house, but not as many as there were. After speaking with the realtor, I did a short sale on some?—”

“You sold items out of the house I’d bought?” Even when I was trying to comfort her, I couldn’t help being a businessman down to the core.

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