Somewhere in His Arms (45 page)

             
“Oooh,” she sighed in agony, the ache between her thighs suddenly an unbearable torment. “Alec, what are you.... doing?”

             
“Hush, sweet,” he soothed. “Let me love you.”

             
“Um...” Lucy couldn't think clearly at the moment. She had a slight inkling of what he intended, but wasn't sure if she wanted him to. She wanted all of him, not just some desperate half measure. Then before she could think of telling him what she wanted, he'd pulled off the boy shorts and pulled her toward him, spreading her wide as he did so. “Alec, I--” she cried out as he swirled his roughened tongue over the taut bundle of sensation. Lucy bit down on her lip and clasped his head to her, undulating her hips in the familiar rhythm. She shrieked when he slipped the tip of his tongue into her and she fell back, sobbing his name. It was all too much for her and her body arched off the bed, her hips thrusting greedily against his mouth. The pleasure was sudden, sweet, and utterly exhausting. Aftershocks rippled through her and then he was moving over her, his mouth swooping down hotly to claim her own, and she could taste herself on his tongue.

             
She was hardly aware of him removing the rest of their clothing; all she knew was that his skin was hot and smooth against her own. A strangled cry emerged from her throat, her hands clutching his head to her as he devoured the ripe flesh of her breasts. His tongue darted about the aching peak, drawing it gently between his teeth, and suckled her until she was begging him for his body. “Soon, wife,” he breathed, kissing the scars on her chest. “Touch me, love,” he pleaded softly.

             
Lucy allowed her hands to glide shyly over him, over his shoulders, and down his back. He stiffened slightly, and it was her turn to comfort him. His mouth took hers again, his tongue soothing the swelling from his kisses.

             
“Oh!” she cried out, startled when he slid his hand between her thighs and explored the damp folds, his fingers gentle and coaxing. He groaned and parted the sopping lips, stroking gently. “Alec!” she whimpered, feeling his thumb circling wetly over her clit with excruciating leisure, and she clung to him moaning at the sweet torture, arching her hips greedily against his hand.

             
Alec's sucked on her sweet little tongue and moaned at her shy response to his caresses. “Ready for me, love?” he breathed against her mouth.

             
She nodded and he lowered his hips between her slender thighs, groaning as her nails bit into his shoulders. “Lucy!” he cried hoarsely, easing his cock into her aching warmth.

             
She whimpered in pain. It had been weeks since he'd made love to her, not since the cottage, and she was tight. “Alec!” she gasped. “It hurts.” Alec swore and tried to withdraw, but she held onto him. “Slowly,” she pleaded and loosened her grip. He stared down into her face looking for any sign of discomfort. He eased back and kissed her softly, begging her forgiveness, and tried again, filling her gradually inch-by-inch---until he was sheathed in her delectable heat.

             
“Better?” he rasped, bracing himself on his forearms, afraid to move lest he hurt her again.

             
Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. The pain had eased and she felt the familiar stretching discomfort slowly evolving into a throbbing ache, deep inside. “It's better now,” she smiled tremulously.

             
Alec was shaking; he hadn't meant to hurt her. But it was probably his fault since he'd been reluctant to touch her since Reese. He'd wanted to give her as much time as she needed until she felt ready for him again. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, nuzzling her cheek.

             
“Shh,” she soothed, pressing kisses against his hair and stroking his back. “None of that now. “

             
“Are you okay?”

             
“I'm fine, darling.”

             
“I don't think I---”

             
“Then don't,” she whispered fiercely and drew his head to hers. Her tongue darted into his mouth in a blazing kiss of welcome. “Take me,” she urged softly and arched her hips against his.

             
He groaned and took her slowly, easing in and out, taking her in long, loving strokes, and gasped at the incredible pleasure her hot, sweet flesh gave to him. Alec felt her hands sliding down his back and he let out a tortured cry when she slid them lower to press him deeper. He obliged her, slipping his hands beneath her to cup her sweet little ass and urging her to absorb his thrusts. Her tight flesh was clenching around him, squeezing his aching cock in little exquisite pulls, and he quickened his pace knowing she was close. Lucy mewled into his mouth, clinging to his damp body, and arched her hips frantically until finally she felt the unfurling deep inside; the quickening pulsating agony, and she sobbed with the sheer force of it. She fell back, panting, and hugged him close as he cried out her name, shuddering violently in her arms.

             
They lay in the storm's aftermath; skin damp and bodies exhausted, and slept---each entwined with the other.

Chapter Twenty-seven

“Alec,” she said one night as they strolled arm and arm across the beach. “Were there others...before...me?”

             
He peered down at her in surprise. “Where did that come from?”

             
Lucy shrugged. “You know all about my skeletons, I haven't seen yours.”

             
Alec laughed and plopped down onto the sand, pulling her with him. “You don't
really
want to hear all that!” He squinted into the distance, trying to make out a shape of a passing trawler. “It's a long story and one I don't care to revisit,” he sighed at last.

             
He wasn't going to tell her. Lucy sighed in frustration and lay back, folding her arms beneath her head. “That's all right, you don't have to tell me. I just wondered.”

             
“Don't, love,” he said and leaned over her, brushing her hair away from her face. “If you want to know, I'll tell you.”

             
She reached up and smoothed his roughened cheek. He hadn't shaved that morning. “Are you trying to grow a beard? Because if you are, I think I should know about it, my skin being sensitive and all.”

             
“Don't change the subject, wife!” he scolded gently and dropped a kiss on her nose. “I was eighteen and her name was Emma.”

             
“Was she pretty?'

             
“She was adequate.”

             
“Alec! Be serious!”

             
“I
am
being serious.”

             
“Did you...love...her?” she gulped, not knowing if she wanted to hear this.

             
“I thought I did at the time.” His voice took on a strained quality as if he'd suddenly ingested something disagreeable. “She left me.”

             
“Left you...?”

             
Alec moved away and stretched out beside her. “I'd just joined the army and left for training. When they shipped me off to Afghanistan, she wrote and we emailed everyday. I thought I had everything a bloke could want.”
              “And you didn't?” She rose on an elbow and peered down at him. “You don't have to tell me if it's too painful.”

             
He smiled up at her, sliding his hand behind her nape, and caressed the velvety skin gently. “No,” he said at last, “I need to get it out.”

             
“What happened?”

             
Alec sighed heavily.
“They
happened.”

             
“Don't--!”

             
“Hush, woman and let me tell this. It's been rotting away in me for years.”

             
“But...”

             
“We went out on patrol one night, the winds blowing all that sand into our eyes and faces. We couldn't see our hands in front of us, so we hunkered down in this little shell of a bombed out village.” He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “There wasn't much to do except sit and wait it out, the wind howling like a banshee. None of us could get any sleep and if we did, we'd be startled awake by the slightest noise. A crumbling stone, a boot shifting in the dirt, anything.”

             
Lucy pressed her lips against his brow, offering solace the only way a wife could. “How many were there?”

             
“Five of us altogether. We got separated from the others during the storm. Corporal Banks was assistant patrol leader for a couple of hours until Leland got his head blown off. Then Banks was in charge and he didn't know what to do. We all stared at him and he stared back at us like a deer in headlights like he wanted us to tell him
we'd
get him out of there.”

             
“Alec,” she began, not wanting him to do this and feeling guilty that she'd brought it up. “Please, don't.”

             
“Don't what? I've got to tell it while it's still fresh in my mind. I don't think I'll be able to tell it again, so you've got to listen now or not at all.”

             
“Go on.”

             
He sighed again, closing his eyes, and tried not to hear the deafening screams of his mates as they were picked off one by one. “They killed the rest of them. Davy got his leg shot off and he bled to death in front of my eyes and Ollie turned his head and when I looked back at him he didn't have one anymore.” Alec gulped back tears and clasped the hand Lucy offered. “Then they came at me and Banks stood there and let it happen. He was frozen in fear. I guess he must have realized what was happening because he snapped out of it real quick and took out one of them, but there were too many. They hit him in the face with a rifle; broke his nose. And they must have talked it out amongst themselves, 'cause they didn't kill me. They could have, but I guess they decided they could barter for something if they had the two of us.” He brushed the tears away and felt some of the pain easing from his chest. “They dragged us back to this place that reeked of shit and beat Corporal Banks to death! He was only nineteen-years-old. They came for me the next morning and strung me up. They took it in turns beating and dousing their ciggies on me.” Alec bit back a sob. “I can still
smell
the fuckers!”

             
“Shh, darling,” she soothed, kissing his tears. “They can't hurt you anymore.”

             
He nodded. “ And when they ran out of ciggies, they used the oil in their lamps. I must have passed out from the pain. They left me there for I don't know how long, because the next thing I know, there were these two
Yanks
peering down at me. I'd never been so happy to see anyone in me whole life! They were marines and found me by accident, I guess.”

             
“I'm glad they did,” she whispered, laying her head on his chest. “What happened with Emma?”

             
“Well,” he said, threading his fingers through her hair, “she wrote me one of those letters when I was in hospital.”

             
“She didn't!”

             
“She did, saying how she would always think of me as a friend, but she couldn't handle being with someone who was apt to be scarred for life.”

             
Her head shot up in outrage. “That bitch!”

             
“Easy, wife,” he chuckled. “I was relieved, actually.”

             
“How so?”

             
“I don't think she would have handled the surgeries too well. There were plenty of them trying to repair the damage.”

             
“That must have been painful.”

             
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Pat and mum would visit and she'd leave the room sobbing. It got to a point where I figured I was better off alone.”

             
“Was there no one else?”

             
“Well,” he added thoughtfully, “there was this mate who said a friend of his liked me and we--” he stopped, smiling guiltily.” Well, you know.”