Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (24 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

His mind touched hers, sending only
warmth and comfort, not pain. “You’re so beautiful, Miss Seal.”
When Mack kissed her belly, she giggled, urging him to move his
kisses south. “Just feel. That’s an order.” A calloused finger
circled her clitoris, another two pushing inside to stroke and
explore. Ingrid’s back arched, her inner muscles
tightening.

“Mack,” she sighed. “Do that again.”
He did as he was told. “I want you inside me.” She tried to pull
him on top, but he caught hold of her hands, bringing them down to
the leather of the seat.

“Later, sweet thing.” He kissed his
way up to her sex.

Like his fingers, Mack’s tongue was
long and thick. He used it to stroke, to lick, to tease, exploring
every inch of her most intimate flesh. She moved her hips to force
him closer. “Oh… yes, do that…oh. Again.” No male had ever brought
her such pleasure. She clutched at his hair, on the very edge, when
he whispered against her flesh.

"Come for me."

Three flicks of his magical tongue and
Ingrid exploded in tremendous waves of pleasure, his tongue, and
fingers continuing their magic to draw out the exquisite sensation.
She dug her nails into his shoulders, her heart pounding, her
sensitized flesh clenching, already aching for more.

And he was in her head—had been from
the moment their axis energies had connected. She’d known this,
wanted it, yet flashbacks of her past brought on feelings of panic,
her vulnerability terrifying.

Ingrid had kept her mental shields
inviolable for twelve long years. From the moment her guardian’s
creep-of-a-boyfriend had crawled into her bed and raped her, she’d
worked every second of her spare time, teaching herself to keep the
dregs of society out of her mind. The rape had been a punch in the
gut at a very young age, but it woke her up to the truth. As long
as The Director gave his okay, female thetas were powerless to
choose who would use their bodies. But Ingrid could still keep them
away from her mind and her heart. She was an actress, after all.
The males who’d used or beaten her would never break her spirit,
because she’d made sure the impenetrable shield she’d created to
survive, sheltered her most vulnerable places.

But with Mack, she’d dropped her
innermost shield, leaving her as vulnerable as that eleven-year-old
child who’d screamed and cried and hadn’t been rescued.

“It’s me. I’m with you. You’re safe.”
He’d drawn her into his lap, wrapping strong arms around her
trembling body. “I’ll never hurt you.” Mack stroked her hair,
kissed her head, rubbed her back. He did all the right things, but
she was so afraid it wasn’t enough. She might never feel truly safe
with anyone.

It was several minutes before she was
able to put together two words. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her
voice harsh from the crying.

“Maybe it’s me who should be
apologizing—although I don’t remember bringing on terrors in any
other female.”

She tried to smile. “It wasn’t you.
You were…it was perfect.”

“It was the mind thing, right? It
happened spontaneously.”

“I know. I can’t…I never drop my
shields completely during sex. I don’t…” She huffed in frustration.
She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but…

“You don’t trust anyone.” Mack’s tone
held no recriminations. It was odd he didn’t seem to judge her,
even though he’d done nothing at all to earn her
distrust.

“I’m sorry. It’s all tied up with the
rape when I was a kid. I’m terrified I won’t survive if I open
myself up. That male, so long ago. He would have killed me if
someone hadn’t heard me scream.” She’d built layer-upon-layer of
protection for herself: after the first rape, after her first
beating, after The Director ripped through her mind, and on and on.
Each layer was a link in a chain that hung around her neck,
protecting her mind and her heart, but destroying her chances at
intimacy or friendship—until now, with Gene and Mack.

“You can trust me, Ingrid.” He kissed
her shoulder. So sweet. So perfect.

“I know I can. I do.”

“Give us some time.”

Ingrid felt his arousal pressing
against her thigh. She wiggled and he winced. “I figured you’d be a
guy who'd take care of his own needs first."

"There's nothing hotter than watching
a beautiful woman come. Guess I haven’t lost my touch.”

Ingrid was actually enjoying the
intimacy she was sharing with Mack. She angled forward, catching
Mack’s hand and inspecting his fingers. “These are better than any
of my vibrators.”

“I suppose that’s a compliment,” he
laughed, delivering a very sweet kiss that ended on a sexier note
with his teeth tugging on her bottom lip. “We’re three blocks from
our destination.” His sexy grin and glittering eyes broadcast his
erotic plans in 3D.

A few minutes later, Johnny dropped
them off and drove away to park the limo in the usual paid lot.
Once inside the small ranch-style house, Ingrid began peeling off
her clothes. Mack stopped her after her dress hit the
floor.

“And we’re rushing, why?” he
asked.

“But…?” She couldn’t figure him out.
Guys were all about fucking hard and fast—weren’t they?

He pulled her into his arms, snaking
his hands behind her and pressing her closer. His erection was
seated firmly against her belly. She liked the feel of it. “I’d
prefer to take my time. Win you over. Seduce you.” With gentle
fingers, he pushed her dark hair aside, caressing the shell of her
ear with the tip of his tongue.

“Not really necessary,” she
panted.

“My house, my rules. You
agree?”

“Rules?”

“I’ll undress you at my leisure.” He
lifted the strap of her chemise and kissed her shoulder.

She attempted a swallow, but her mouth
was already dry. “I…don’t…ummm…that feels…”

He lifted the opposite strap and
nibbled. “I have plans for this luscious body. Major plans that
could span hours of intense investigation and mind-blowing
pleasure.”

“Ooookay.” Judging by the sudden heat
around her face, she was blushing. When had that ever happened
before?

“Only okay? That’s it? You don’t sound
too sure.” He was nibbling down her neck, her shoulders, the top of
her full breasts, his large body firm and warm against her
own.

She arched into him. “I’m sure.” Her
heartbeat had quickened. ”I’m not used to this version of
Mack.”

He met her gaze with a teasing glint
in his eyes. “Try not to talk in complete sentences for the next
couple of hours. Moans, whimpers, gasps, screams of pleasure and
saying my name in the height of passion are all allowed, and
encouraged.” Ingrid’s chin was practically brushing her chest, her
mouth and eyes wide open. He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip.
“Perfect.”

“You’re trying to distract me.”
Helping her forget about her nightmare past. Tricky
male.

“Is it working?” Mack’s mouth met
hers, his kiss growing passionate, his fingers weaving in her hair,
holding her at an angle that gave him the deepest access. The
sensual sliding of his tongue over her teeth, lips and tongue shot
electric heat down her spine to pool in her belly. She hesitated at
first, finding her courage in his scent and the warmth of his skin.
She returned his kiss with a passion she’d never known, her tongue
dancing with his in a perfect partnering.

“Your mouth is so sweet,” he said,
crushing her lips against his.

This kiss was firm, insistent,
demanding. Perfect. She pulled away, clutching at his shirt, afraid
to fall too deeply into the physical and emotional maelstrom that
was Mack Hudson. But he gave her no choice, straddling her legs,
walking her backwards until her ass pressed up against the kitchen
counter.

“Too many clothes,” she said, panting.
She reached down to unfasten his fly, but he stopped her with a
hand on her forearm.

Mack leaned his forehead against hers,
his smile crooked, his eyes smoky. “Breaking the rules already?”
His rumbled whisper shot vibrations through her body. “That was
three words in a row,” he teased.

“I break rules all the time. You know
that.” Her answer was partly an apology, partly a statement of
fact. This was who she was, perhaps an impossible female to care
for—or care about. Her body shivered, tension tying her stomach in
knots.

Mack met her worried expression with a
sweet smile, stroking her face, his touch a gentle caress. “With me
you can let go, beautiful girl. Trust me. I’ll be here to catch you
when you come back to earth.”

His warm brown gaze spoke to her of
truth and acceptance and suddenly she understood this joining of
their bodies, minds, and magic would be more than she’d hoped it
could be. If she could only find the courage to open her mind
completely to Mack…

She clutched at his shirt. “I need
you. Please.”

When he lifted her to the
counter, she could see that he’d heard the words she hadn’t spoken
out loud. The words that were born in a young girl’s soul on a
night in a prison they’d called a school.
I will be free.

Blue eyes met brown in understanding.
“I’m with you,” he said, stroking her hair.

A moment later, her chemise was gone,
followed by her bra and panties. Mack lowered his head, feeding
hungrily on the soft skin of her breasts and nipples. He sucked
harder, sending bursts of energy to her throbbing sex.

Mack shed his pants and boxers,
spreading her legs and stepping closer. With her hand, she guided
him to her opening. When he moved to kiss her, she stopped
him.

“Don’t think about hurting me. I need
to feel. I won’t break.”

When Mack’s lips met Ingrid’s, he
pushed his hips forward, entering her gloriously slick heat with a
single thrust. His cock thick, Mack made his strokes long and deep,
creating the kind of friction that could have both of them coming
in too few minutes. But when he tried to slow his pace, she
growled.

“Faster.”

“Open for me first.” When he dropped
his shields he pushed at her mind, urging her to trust that he
wouldn’t hurt her, that he would protect her from the demons of her
past. She cried out, pulling on his hair, raking her nails down his
back, but when he added his calming energy, Ingrid’s mind opened
fully.

Mack let go of his tight control,
beginning to stroke harder, going deeper, fucking her for her
pleasure and his. Flesh slapped against flesh again and again,
their mouths locked together in an erotic kiss, their hands
exploring the plains and valleys of the other’s body.

The release was more than sexual. It
was a claiming, a choice to share their lives. For the first time,
they both understood the gifts true intimacy could bring, gifts
denied to them for so many years.

Two hours later, they were
cuddling together in his bed, spent and sated, having had
another
first
in
his shower and a particularly romantic one in his bed. Mack’s hand
moved restlessly across her naked back as they stared at each other
with half-lidded eyes. Looping axis to axis, psycore to psycore had
been extraordinary: draining; yet exhilarating. Mack hadn’t pushed
her to lower her shields again, and as much as she wanted to trust
him, she hadn’t volunteered.

But he’d shown in so many ways he
could be trusted. She’d been acting like an idiot. A coward, even.
“I do trust you.”

“I know. It’s hard to change years of
habit. You locked yourself down to survive. I get it.”

Ingrid flashed back on the memory of
Mack walking off with Gene to take her place—facing the vamps who’d
broken his nose and taken his blood. "I’ve been thinking about your
morph. Your version of me had bigger boobs and a huge ass. I can
live with the boob job, but I’m no hippo.”

He laughed. "No, no. I've studied your
body very carefully, and I'm sure I got your dimensions right." He
cupped his hand over a breast, pretending to judge its size. He
grunted, seemingly satisfied, and trailed the same hand over her
hip to one of her cheeks. He squeezed it. “Yep, I got it
right.”

"My ass is not that big." She
playfully pinched his nose.

In retaliation, he growled and bit her
shoulder, leaving a reddish mark. "Your ass would tempt a god. I
know, because I've had the pleasure of seeing it up
close.”

She pouted.
"
Your
Ingrid's
ass would only tempt a fat god." He was kissing his way across her
hip, stroking her stomach. She giggled when his lips brushed over a
ticklish spot. "I thought you were kind of shy when I met
you."

Mack sat up, maybe to see her more
clearly. "I was, at first. You know how it is with PMs. Socializing
is forbidden."

"Forbidden to fuck. Sounds like a
porno movie. So what do you do?"

"Usually I pull up fantasies.” He
shrugged. “I'm not into trolling the bars. Once in a while, I’ll
meet a female at a party, but it’s usually a short-lived
fling.”

"Have you projected a fantasy of me?"
she teased him.