“I want you,” she panted, tightening her strong thighs so he couldn’t escape. “I need you, Kiah.”
He groaned, gave in, pushing forward to give her his entire length, and she cried out.
“Yes. There. Oh, yes.”
He shifted, went even deeper, then began to move, each thrust and retreat causing little spasms deep within her, until they all started running together, and she found herself once more on the edge of completion.
“Mina. Mina. Mina.”
It was a chant, a benediction, and her body responded, as though the sound of her name in his hoarse, desire-struck voice was the final touch she needed.
Her orgasm came with the force of a runaway train, barreling through her, causing every muscle and sinew to stiffen, shutting down her nervous system, making lights flash behind her tightly closed eyes.
And hearing, feeling Kiah join her, took the sensations straight to sublime.
CHAPTER TWELVE
KIAH LAY IN the dark, wondering if he was dreaming.
It all felt too good to be reality, and he wished he could, like Mina had, fall asleep, so as to hold on to the perfection.
But although his body was sated, his brain wouldn’t shut off, his thoughts confusedly swinging from euphoria to fear, and back again.
They’d made love. Him and Mina. She’d shared her body with him in the most wonderful, meaningful night of his life.
Their kisses, the love they’d made, had been sheer perfection.
He’d been right to worry making love would change their relationship, and use that instinctive knowledge to try to stop it from happening. He already felt a shift inside, the emotional bond he’d always had with Mina transforming in a way he didn’t want to contemplate.
It scared him, the way she’d made him feel, the rightness of touching and kissing her, the joy he’d gotten from hearing her cry out in pleasure. The utter ecstasy he’d experienced in her arms.
Down this road lay the type of madness he’d tried so hard to avoid all his life.
The insanity of love.
His mind whirled, bringing up ghosts of the past, as though to emphasize the severity of the danger he was courting.
His father collapsing, dying in front of him.
Mom, losing the only stabilizing force in her life, and morphing from a relatively normal person into something close to a monster, turning on her children, blaming them for everything.
Kiah had had the Haraldsons to run to when things got bad at home. Karlene hadn’t been so lucky.
“Those damn people done steal one of my children.” He heard his mother’s voice, as clear as it had been that night, when he’d tried to take Karlene with him, just to get her away from his mother’s poisonous tongue. Remembered her crazed stare as she held on to Karlene, silently daring Kiah to tear her daughter from her arms. “They not getting the other one.”
He’d had to turn away from the plea in Karlene’s eyes, and make his escape.
Roy, battered and broken in spirit after a bomb had killed four of his friends, tearing through the troop transport he was on. Unable to function, despite his love for his wife and daughter, harangued by his mother-in-law at every turn.
Kiah had seen it firsthand while visiting Canada, and he’d tried to tell Karlene what their mother was doing wasn’t healthy.
She’d shrugged. “She’s trying to help me out, Kiah. Taking care of Charm when I have to work. I don’t listen to her when she’s bad-mouthing Roy. He’s a good man.”
“Tell her not to come over anymore,” Kiah had said. “She just upsets Roy, and he doesn’t need that right now.”
“How can I tell her she can’t see her granddaughter, when she’s helped me out all this time?”
And no matter what he said, Karlene made excuses for Mom and, in Kiah’s estimation, her devotion to their mother had cost Karlene her life. Cost Roy his, too.
Funny how, until Mina had mentioned it, he hadn’t thought about what Charm might think of her father. Kiah had been too busy hating him to even consider talking about him, although they’d had a good relationship in the beginning, and Kiah had thought him perfect for Karlene.
And Roy had loved Charm. Somewhere there were pictures he’d retrieved from Karlene’s house after the horrific tragedy. Pictures that showed Roy holding his daughter at various stages of her life. That showed his absolute love and devotion.
How could that love not have stopped him from doing what he did?
Those were the questions that made Kiah afraid.
He’d examined his own character and knew there were situations he absolutely needed to avoid. He was as faithful and caring as his father, who’d put up with his wife’s moodiness and meanness without complaint, but he also had his mother’s temper. He’d discovered that young, when he’d finally had enough, and had gone toe-to-toe with Mom, unable to stop himself from shouting right back at her. Having to walk away when he realized he was about to completely lose control, fearful of what might happen if he did.
The more you cared about people the easier it was to hurt them, or be hurt in return. He’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.
He and Mina had crossed a treacherous line tonight, and now he’d have to deal with the fallout. Unfortunately, the only way he’d be able to know what came next would be to see how Mina reacted in the morning.
But he wanted her again.
Desperately.
If this was to be the only night they spent together intimately, he wanted it to be as intense and memorable as possible.
Enough to last him the rest of his life.
So he woke her slowly, bringing her up from sleep with gentle caresses.
She stretched in his arms, her hand finding the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
If he could die then, in her arms, kissing her sweet mouth, he’d go a happy man.
“Kiah,” she said,
