Page 58 of Ice Cold Christmas
He eased away. Stared at the white bra she wore. Saw the curve of her breasts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Victor backed away. Her legs dangled over the edge of the bed. He hauled off her boots and socks, and his hands went to her waist. His fingers tangled with hers as she helped him to unsnap her jeans. Unzip them.
Then he was hauling those jeans down her legs. The jeans and her panties, and she was left clad only in the bra. For a minute, he just drank her in.
She pushed up onto her elbows. “Uh, Victor?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
His gaze flew to meet hers. No, she couldn’t have missed him. Not when she didn’t even remember him.
“I was walking around and feeling like my heart was missing. I think I might know why. I think I gave it to you, didn’t I?”
And he could remember words that she’d spoken to him so long ago. The best words that he’d ever heard.
I love you.
When he’d been at his darkest, those words had tortured him. They’d also given him the strength to keep searching for her. To believe that she would come back. Melody had to return.
I have her back now. Back. Safe. Alive. The next step? To kill the bastard who took her from me.
His gaze slowly drifted over her body. Those perfect breasts. The bra would be going. He wanted her nipples in his mouth. She always went wild when he played with her nipples. And he knew just how to play. Knew how to give her so much pleasure that she shattered beneath him.
On down his stare went and…
The scar on her stomach. Such a long slice. A reminder of the hell she’d faced.
I won’t just kill the bastard who took you. I will make him suffer. He will beg for your forgiveness.
“Victor?”
His gaze rose once more.
“You look…” Melody bit her lower lip.
“How do I look?” His hands curled around her legs. He pulled her closer to the edge of the bed as he stood beside the mattress. Her bed was raised, higher than normal, and it put her at the perfect height for what he wanted.
“Angry.” A pause. “Scary.”
“You should never be afraid of me.” Because his rage would never be for her. He only wanted to give her pleasure. And he would.
His hands rose to caress her inner thighs. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pushed her legs apart. A rough sigh escaped him. “Oh, baby, I have missed you.”
Then he feasted as his mouth lowered to claim the heaven between her thighs. His mouth took her. Soft at first, then harder as the frenzy of need within him drowned out everything else.
She’d gasped at the first lash of his tongue. Her hips tried to back away, but his hands whipped up and locked around her waist. He brought her even closer to his mouth as he licked and he sucked and he tasted her again and again. Mercilessly. Using his tongue and his lips in just the way that he knew she wanted.
He sucked her clit. Licked her over and over. Heard her gasps and felt her fingers sink into the thickness of his hair.
He’d missed her taste. Her sexy scent. Missed the softness of her body and the way she trembled before she came for him.
The way she was trembling right then?—
“Victor!” Her hips jerked. Her thighs trembled. “Victor!”
He’d missed that scream of pleasure. And when she came, he lapped up her orgasm. Worked his tongue over her. Into her. Again and again.
Her heaving breaths shuddered in and out. Slowly, so slowly, his head lifted.
