Read Online Setting Him Free by Alexandra Marell - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexandra Marell
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back with the same desperation, knowing he
should stop. After this he'd never forget her.
"Me too," he managed shakily.
The final barrier fell away. If he didn't finish this
he'd never forgive himself.
Chapter 7
It was exactly what she'd been afraid of. Nothing in
her life would ever match this, a situation so unlikely she might
have been dreaming. Uncomfortable, hot and sweaty, and on the verge
of having sex with a self-confessed killer – yet everything about
the way he touched her seemed so right. In between breathless
kisses she murmured his name over and over. A name she'd learned
only a few hours ago.
It's him. Somewhere in the back of her
fogged-up brain the thought took root. It's not what he's doing,
it's because it's him doing it. That was what made this so
different. Somehow in the way he touched her, kissed her so
reverently and with such need, he managed to say things she'd never
heard before, leaving her limp and helpless with wanting him.
Crazy yes. Regrets, none. Taylor stopped to catch his
breath. Danielle slid from the seat and onto his lap, needing to be
closer still. She heard his surprised grunt. Pushed him back,
reached for his belt and opened it with shaking fingers. He undid
the button, she pulled down the zipper. Then she was touching him, running frantic fingers over the hot, hard length of
him, making him groan and suck in a sharp breath, knowing she must
be hurting his arm, they were pressed together so tightly, but she
needed him too much.
"Wait, love, there are condoms."
"Where? Where are they?"
"Carrier bag. On the seat, opposite. Let me…"
"No." Pushing him down when he tried to rise, she
reached over, upending the plastic bag, spilling the contents onto
the floor. "There. Put it on."
It was almost a demand, the delay so frustrating she
wanted to scream. And then, at last, he was lifting her, filling
her and she was trying to remember a time when they weren't doing
this. A time when she had no idea he existed. Was it only this
morning they first met?
The sheer relief of it made hot tears sting her eyes.
With a groan, Taylor thrust again and she pressed her face against
his neck and clung to him, uncaring that she probably looked and
sounded like a crazy woman. She'd happily go crazy if it felt like
this.
"Taylor. Oh god, Taylor." Desperate kisses punctuated
the words. "We don't have enough time for how much I need you right
now."
"I know. Me too."
The words came out as jerky, staccato sounds as he
ground into her, hardly able to move in the tight space, the seats
pressing into their backs. He came with a dark, shuddering groan,
telling her over and over that he needed her and wanted her.
Promising he'd never forget her.
Biting her lip to force back the tears, Danielle
tried to imagine they were on that beach right now, just as she'd
imagined. Warm, and safe. He wasn't wanted for murder. She didn't
have a life to go back to that didn't include him.
She tried but the picture just wouldn't come.
* * * *
Danielle was holding him so tightly, he couldn't
move. Much as he loved holding her, his broken arm couldn't be
ignored for much longer. The pain threatened to override the
lingering waves of pleasure still lapping at his senses. Taylor
fought to hang on to the pleasure, to savour it, but he could tell
Danielle was crying, and trying to hide it, and the thought of her
shedding sweet tears for a worthless wretch like him made him feel
like sliding into despair all over again.
"Don't cry, sweetheart." He slid his fingers into her
hair, lifting her head from his shoulder. His night vision was
good, and now adjusted to the dark he could just about make her
out. "Let me tell you how amazing that was. How there aren't words
to tell you how I feel about it."
"Yes?" It was no more than a shaky whisper.
"Yes." He brushed a kiss against each of her cheeks
and tasted the salty tears. "You know what? I think I died in the
crash, and this is my own special heaven. Can't for
should stop. After this he'd never forget her.
"Me too," he managed shakily.
The final barrier fell away. If he didn't finish this
he'd never forgive himself.
Chapter 7
It was exactly what she'd been afraid of. Nothing in
her life would ever match this, a situation so unlikely she might
have been dreaming. Uncomfortable, hot and sweaty, and on the verge
of having sex with a self-confessed killer – yet everything about
the way he touched her seemed so right. In between breathless
kisses she murmured his name over and over. A name she'd learned
only a few hours ago.
It's him. Somewhere in the back of her
fogged-up brain the thought took root. It's not what he's doing,
it's because it's him doing it. That was what made this so
different. Somehow in the way he touched her, kissed her so
reverently and with such need, he managed to say things she'd never
heard before, leaving her limp and helpless with wanting him.
Crazy yes. Regrets, none. Taylor stopped to catch his
breath. Danielle slid from the seat and onto his lap, needing to be
closer still. She heard his surprised grunt. Pushed him back,
reached for his belt and opened it with shaking fingers. He undid
the button, she pulled down the zipper. Then she was touching him, running frantic fingers over the hot, hard length of
him, making him groan and suck in a sharp breath, knowing she must
be hurting his arm, they were pressed together so tightly, but she
needed him too much.
"Wait, love, there are condoms."
"Where? Where are they?"
"Carrier bag. On the seat, opposite. Let me…"
"No." Pushing him down when he tried to rise, she
reached over, upending the plastic bag, spilling the contents onto
the floor. "There. Put it on."
It was almost a demand, the delay so frustrating she
wanted to scream. And then, at last, he was lifting her, filling
her and she was trying to remember a time when they weren't doing
this. A time when she had no idea he existed. Was it only this
morning they first met?
The sheer relief of it made hot tears sting her eyes.
With a groan, Taylor thrust again and she pressed her face against
his neck and clung to him, uncaring that she probably looked and
sounded like a crazy woman. She'd happily go crazy if it felt like
this.
"Taylor. Oh god, Taylor." Desperate kisses punctuated
the words. "We don't have enough time for how much I need you right
now."
"I know. Me too."
The words came out as jerky, staccato sounds as he
ground into her, hardly able to move in the tight space, the seats
pressing into their backs. He came with a dark, shuddering groan,
telling her over and over that he needed her and wanted her.
Promising he'd never forget her.
Biting her lip to force back the tears, Danielle
tried to imagine they were on that beach right now, just as she'd
imagined. Warm, and safe. He wasn't wanted for murder. She didn't
have a life to go back to that didn't include him.
She tried but the picture just wouldn't come.
* * * *
Danielle was holding him so tightly, he couldn't
move. Much as he loved holding her, his broken arm couldn't be
ignored for much longer. The pain threatened to override the
lingering waves of pleasure still lapping at his senses. Taylor
fought to hang on to the pleasure, to savour it, but he could tell
Danielle was crying, and trying to hide it, and the thought of her
shedding sweet tears for a worthless wretch like him made him feel
like sliding into despair all over again.
"Don't cry, sweetheart." He slid his fingers into her
hair, lifting her head from his shoulder. His night vision was
good, and now adjusted to the dark he could just about make her
out. "Let me tell you how amazing that was. How there aren't words
to tell you how I feel about it."
"Yes?" It was no more than a shaky whisper.
"Yes." He brushed a kiss against each of her cheeks
and tasted the salty tears. "You know what? I think I died in the
crash, and this is my own special heaven. Can't for
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