Page 77 of Recurve Ridge

Too late, I caught on to what Robe had been trying to say every time he pushed me away. His darkness clashed against whoever I’d become during my months in his house, and the heady mix threatened to consume us.

I shifted in front of him, lost in the dark glitter that surveyed me with humor and seduction. “Robe?—”

“Too late, little lamb.” He swept his arms around my body, locking me to his chest as he settled me onto his lap.

The energy coiled inside him thrummed against me, his movements fast enough to shock, silent enough to ripple the air as he moved. Everything I needed to know existed in the dark promise his eyes laid bare before he whisked that away too.

His sheer size and muscle mass stretched my thighs wider as I sank onto the hard ridges of him. Talented hands tangled in my hair, pulling my mouth down to his in a kiss hard enough to bruise, yet sweet enough to leave me sighing, pulsing on air, and needingmore.

I rocked against the hard rise of his cock, my negligee a useless barrier between us. One of his hands dropped between us to squeeze the sensitive spot at the curve of my thighs as I writhed against his unyielding form. A moan dripped from my lips to sweep over his.

Robe caught the filmy material as I rose, drawing it over my head with care; then his hands were on my bare skin, dragging my tingling breasts over ridges of hard, inked muscle. My body became its own weapon. I used it the way Alan had taught me, grinding and undulating in a rhythm of my own.

Though Robe fisted my hair, drawing my head back, I never stopped dancing. His breath stuttered against my mouth as he held me in place, and the room disappeared into the fathomless depths of his gaze. Everything stilled between us. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, searching and tasting, finding my rhythm and matching it with his own as he released my hair and let me kiss him back, tasting him the way I needed to.

Firm hands curled around my hips, slamming me against him. The deep ache between my thighs intensified. Swollen, needy skin connected with his hardness as I moved over him and slicked his flesh with my arousal, soaking us both.

I wanted to say his name, something profound, but nothing came out other than an animalistic cry. The set of his jaw warned me not to break the moment, and my body obediently conveyed the conversation I couldn’t voice. I squeezed my thighs tight against his hips, linking my ankles around his back, and let him show me what he wanted most.

The sheer size of him wasn’t contained to his height or muscle mass. Robe’s presence rippled with unleashed power as he ground me against his body, the extent of his arousal evident as he held my eyes. Lust overwhelmed his earlier hesitancy, and I drowned in the deluge of him.

A whimper whispered past my lips as he let me up for air, then claimed me again until I twisted into a writhing, hot mess on his lap.

And he hadn’t even fucked me yet.

Robe broke the kiss, raising both hands to my cheeks as he drew away from me. “I’ll tear you, Mari. I’ll do more damage than any one of them did, even if you’re ready for me. And I can’t hurt you. Not you, precious girl.” His lips grazed over my mouth once more, tender and lingering, and then again.

The insatiable urge that rose in me consumed any rational thought, leaving emotion and desire strung out in an impasse between our bodies. I shivered in the cradle of his hands, clinging to his shoulders as I wound my body over his. My limbs were fluid from hours of practice in front of the bar under a critical eye that had annoyed me then but made me thankful now.

Robe groaned, his touch turning rougher as he held me close, watching my movements with hungry eyes as I danced for him. His cock thickened between my legs, and I gasped when he pushed me down to grind my swollen flesh against him again. Sensation flooded my system. I arched into his brutal touch, craving him deeper.

“I. Will. Break. You.”

“No.” Insanity gripped me, the sort of madness that beckoned with pleasure and promised a different sort of pain. “I want you. Please, Robe—” My breath hitched as my brain caught up, but the words were already in the open.

Robe’s hands swept my body, brushing my breasts, then moving over the globes of my ass cheeks, stroking and caressing. Every motion left me lust drunk on him. Eyes closed, head tilted back, I sought my own pleasure. His harsh moans reverberated inside the deep cavity of his chest with every undulation of my body against him. I danced until I edged onto a precipice, and I knew that once I tumbled over that limit, I would never be able to recover—not from him. And I still wanted everything he offered.

His movement halted, and I paused midgrind.

I opened my eyes to stare deep into Robe’s. He panted at the same rate I did, as though he had been the one dancing. The air stilled around us, the moment suspended as my body throbbed, burning and needful.

His touch became firmer, and the moment broke as he grazed roughened knuckles along my spine. Those same hands caught me in an inescapable grip. He slammed my body against his, hitting all the right places where I teased myself into a frenzy, grinding against his rougher touch.

Once, then again.

Waves I reached for and then held at bay now splintered over me. I screamed, uncaring if I roused the house. The reaction of a woman who had discovered safety, trust, and acceptance, who craved his brand of fierce.

In the arms of a man she loved.

I snapped back as the thought penetrated my hazy mind. How could I fall in love? I had healed to a degree—on the outside, at least. Inside, my mind broke into a chaotic mess whenever silence fell. Whenever I wasn’t with him, or with Jon.

Warmth filtered into my chest at the memory of his best friend’s arms wrapped around me, my brief sense of peace absorbed by a sensible dose of guilt.

How could I think of one man while in the arms of another? And Alan, with his silver kisses and clever fingers. Will leaning into me, talking of strawberries as he watched my lips. Miller’s eyes on me while we trained, me wearing his shirt beneath the sweater Alan bought me, a secret I kept for myself.

Guilt provided a double-edged sword that razed me in both directions. My body tightened, fear tautening my muscles in painful twists as I gasped for breath. Perhaps I didn’t need silence for the chaos to consume me after all.

This madness tormented me in different ways. I gripped Robe’s shoulders tight, shock warring with recognition as my gaze mirrored his glittering one.

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