Chapter 50
FIFTY
“Y ou didn’t need to stay this whole time, man, but I really appreciate it,” Blaine said as Allistair parked in front of the house. It was almost midnight. All the windows were dark.
He hoped Xanthe was sound asleep in his bed. Couldn’t wait to crawl in beside her, hold her in the darkness and crash.
“No worries. Hey,” Allistair added when Blaine started to get out of the car. “Look after her, okay?”
“I will.” As much and for as long as she would let him.
He entered the house as quietly as he could. Maddy rose from a stool at the kitchen island. “Hey. How you feeling?”
“All right, just a few stitches and a couple painkillers.” He was lucky to be alive and desperate to be with Xanthe. “How is she?”
“Okay. Asleep in your room. I made her eat something before she showered. How many stitches did you get?”
“Eleven.” His head throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the injuries he could have sustained. Whereas Charlie was in the morgue awaiting formal identification by his wife. Widow.
“Want me to hang around for a bit?”
“No, go on to bed.”
“Think I might head out for a bit, actually.”
He blinked. “Out?” At this hour? Was anything even open in town at this time?
“Yeah, they’re keeping The Skelly open late to celebrate. A bunch of us are going.”
“Okay.” It was unlike her. Maddy was notoriously introverted.
He wanted to ask who she was going with but didn’t say anything.
He wasn’t her dad or brother, and she didn’t like anyone prying into her private life.
Not even him. “If you feel like you have to go out because of Xanthe and me, you don’t need to?—”
“You guys need privacy. You deserve it, I might add. And I want to go.”
He gave a nod. Having the house to themselves for the night would make Xanthe more comfortable, give them both time to decompress on their own. “See you in the morning. And Mads? Thanks for coming for us.”
A fierce light entered her eyes. “No one could’ve stopped me from boarding that boat. Later, bossman.”
He couldn’t help but smile. People underestimated her because she was small and quiet. But he’d seen her steely inner core a few times. Her loyalty was every bit as formidable as her intelligence. That was one of the things he loved most about her.
He showered in the gym down in the basement to avoid disturbing Xanthe.
The hot water stung his scalp even with the bandage over the stitches.
He scrubbed the salt from his skin, let the hot water rush over him, soothing the aches and pains while he allowed himself to mentally process everything they’d been through.
He climbed the stairs naked, his heart thudding with the need to see Xanthe. They’d almost died. He had almost lost her forever without telling her the truth about his feelings. How much he needed her.
Outside, the storm was beginning to ease but the wind gusts still howled around the angles of the house, huge waves exploding against the rocks below.
The latch on his bedroom door turned without a sound.
He pushed it open slowly to reveal a swath of weak moonlight streaming through the huge windows overlooking the sea.
He stopped.
Xanthe stood facing the sea, every sleek curve of her naked body lined in moonlight. She looked at him over her shoulder as he stepped inside. Didn’t say a word.
She didn’t need to.
A searing rush of desire swept through him. He closed the distance between them, his footfalls silent on the plush carpet.
Xanthe curled one arm up and around the back of his neck when he stepped behind her and pulled her flush to his body for a moment, his mouth finding the sensitive spot at the curve of her shoulder.
He placed an open-mouth kiss there. Scraped the edge of his teeth across it.
Reveled in her quick gasp, the little shiver, and the way she came up on her toes, her fingers squeezing his nape.
He’d intended to take this slow and gentle, but the sight of her like this sent a hot current of lust through him.
He took her hands. Pressed her palms flat against the plate glass. “Don’t move.”
She complied, but he could feel the wild energy inside her, straining to be unleashed.
Blaine took a step back to better admire the incredible view.
Ran his hands over her outstretched arms. Her shoulders, down her ribs to her waist, and the sexy flare of her hips.
He knelt, squeezed her hips in a commanding hold while he traced a damp path along the dimple at the base of her spine with his tongue.
Xanthe’s breathing quickened, her muscles shifting beneath her soft, smooth skin. He wanted to devour every inch of her until he was seared into her memory forever.
He smoothed his palms down her sleek thighs. Along her calves. Back up, lingering on the tender insides until his fingertips stroked the edge of the soft folds between her legs. She moaned, widened her stance slightly.
He obliged her, giving her what she needed with slow caresses along her slick flesh. Zeroing in on the hard knot of her clit while his other hand cupped her breast and toyed with her nipple.
“I can’t go slow,” he said.
“I don’t want slow.”
There was no teasing. No thought of anything beyond giving her immediate, maximum pleasure. He murmured hot, sweet things against her neck, her ear. Praised her as he pressed his chest to her back, his cock sliding along the cleft between her cheeks with every roll of his hips.
He could feel her getting close in the way she rocked against his stroking fingers. Read it in the way her muscles tightened. Heard it in her shallow breathing, every soft, plaintive cry.
Releasing her nipple, he grasped her hip and pulled backward. Xanthe leaned forward, hands braced flat on the glass, her perfect ass tilted up and the slick, silken folds between her thighs exposed.
Ready and waiting for him to claim her.
“Good girl,” he murmured as he moved into position behind her, hard and aching. Gently working her clit with two fingers, he eased the head of his cock between her folds and seated himself deep with one firm thrust.
Her shaky cry raked down his spine as her hot core clenched around him, suffusing him with pleasure. He sucked in a breath, savagely fought back the urge to plunge into her over and over.
The sex was still raw. As elemental as the storm and the sea raging below.
The sight of her like this, willingly surrendering to him with the windswept landscape barely visible out the window, giving him full control of her body, was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.
Her fingers shifted against the glass, the muscles of her arms quivering in the moonlight. “Blaine,” she choked out.
He felt it too. The primal force taking over.
He took her harder. Faster. Elation punched through him when she came with an ecstatic cry, head thrown back, spine arching.
He gritted his teeth, fought back his own orgasm, the one part of his brain still functioning reminding him that he didn’t have a condom. The instant she settled, he withdrew, gripped the length of his aching cock and came against the curve of her lower back with a guttural shout.
Breathing hard, he dropped his head to rest his cheek against the smooth skin between her shoulder blades. He kissed her there gently. Reverently.
“I love you, bright eyes.”
It just came out, the words refusing to be held back.
She went still.
“Stay there,” he murmured before she could say anything, and hurried to get something to clean up with.
He wiped the traces of himself from her skin. Turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. Looked into her eyes in the moonlight, wanting to tell her properly. So she would know he meant it.
“I love you.”
A tender smile curved her mouth. She wound her arms around his ribs. “I love you too.”
He growled and crushed her to him, pulling in a deep breath. Soaking up the sense of peace and solidity she gave him. “That means you’re mine now. And I always take care of what’s mine.”