17
Mark poured himself a double shot of Maker's Mark, hesitated, then made it a triple. He didn't particularly care for the alcohol but he liked the way it burned and warmed him when he drank it down. He knocked it back, wincing at the bite, then closed his eyes and waited as the heat seemed to envelope him.
He heard footsteps overhead. Rayne. Sighing he poured another triple. This had all started out so simple, when had everything gotten so complicated? He shook his head. The only thing complicating this mess was his own confused mind. The two sides of him warred with each other constantly, it was all he could do to remain sane.
There was a noise from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, then turned back to his glass and drank it down. "You should try to get more sleep. Everything's all right now."
Rayne stood uncertainly in the doorway, watching him. She still wasn't convinced that she could go through with this. She did not want him. She was afraid of him. But she had to do this, had to. She could pretend, she could fake. She'd had to do that more than once with her last boyfriend...
Realizing her thoughts were straying, she slowly walked into the kitchen. He was sitting with his left side against the table, pouring himself another drink. She wished for one herself. Actually, she wished she were already falling down drunk, then her brain wouldn't be working overtime.
She stood behind him, then reached around him, taking the glass. Taking a deep breath, she drank down the dark liquid, gasping as it lit a fire down her throat and into her stomach. She coughed once, wondering how the hell he could stand it.
She set the glass down and watched as he refilled it yet again. This time he brought it to his lips, downing it in a single gulp. He placed the glass back on the table and refilled it but did not immediately grab it to drink. Instead, he turned it with his fingers, thoughtful.
"They're gone. They won't harm you." He finally spoke.
"Yeah." She wasn't asking. Mark glanced sideways at her. She seemed to be in a trance, staring at the glass in his hand.
"You can go back to bed. There won't be any more nightmares tonight," He said quietly. Rayne looked at him and nodded. But did not leave.
Rayne was at a loss as to what to do now. What exactly did willing mean? That he'd have to make the first move and she'd accept? Or that she should just...she shook her head. If she waited for him, she'd never get this out of the way. He seemed to be too deep inside himself.
Biting her lip, she took a step back, eyeing the back of his head. She brought her hands up and rested them on his shoulders. Mark stiffened at the touch, bringing the shot glass to his mouth and downing it. Rayne let her fingers slide onto his neck, ignoring the butterflies she felt in her stomach. Images from that damn nightmare kept going through her mind. No. She shook her head. The other dream...that's what she needed to think about. He'd been...easy with her. Gentle. She felt herself flushing, remembering how she had practically begged him to make her warm. And it hadn't just been a dream. He had been there, it had actually happened.
Resolved, she slowly stepped around the chair until she was facing him, her bare leg against his jean clad one. Mark opened his eyes and looked up at her questioningly. Before she could change her mind, Rayne leaned down and pressed her lips to his, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.
He made a low noise of surprise in his throat. Tilting her head, she raised her hands to cup his face, then ran her tongue over his lower lip. His lips parted in response and she slid her tongue inside, tasting the whiskey he'd drank, but also tasting...him. She used her tongue, urging him to kiss her back. It took a few moments, but he finally joined in, delving into her mouth in answer.
Rayne's legs were literally shaking. Whether it was from the awkward position she was in or from the barely held in check passion that was coming form him she did not know. So much for not responding to him. She felt like all of her dials were being lit up one by one, and that was just a kiss. She couldn't imagine what sex with this man would do to her.
Mark felt her shake against his leg. Breaking the kiss, he grasped her waist and pulled her down so that she was sitting in his lap. Rayne leaned forward to kiss him again but he dodged her, staring down into her eyes.
"You..." he stopped to clear his throat. "We...can't...do this."
Rayne shifted on his lap, pressing her hip into his groin. He grit his teeth, trying not to react. "Why not?" She whispered. She brought her hand up and hesitantly used her finger tip to trace his lower lip. Mark sighed.
"It is..." He could not seem to form the words. "How could you want to do this with me after...what you saw?"
Rayne thought it over. Tell him the truth? No. He'd definitely put a stop to this if she did. She bit her lip, then looked at him, meeting his eyes. "Because...maybe I just want to prove that...that you're not like that. That you won't...hurt me like that." She shifted her gaze from him. That was not far from the truth, actually. It made sense now that she'd said it.
Mark was studying her, his green eyes dark with barely restrained desire. "This would...change...things. There would be no way to go back..."
"I don't care..." Rayne met his eyes again. "I'm tired of being afraid. I want you to help me...I want you to make the fear go away."
Mark brushed her hair back from her face. "I do not know if this doing this will help you with that. It might make it...worse. I can not always control what I am, Rayne."
"You...were in control the other night...that first dream..." she reminded him. "That's what I want. I want to feel...safe."
Mark closed his eyes and pulled her against his chest. He wanted her damn it. His body ached with the need to touch her, to taste her. But the reasons were wrong, all wrong. Again he could feel the two halves warring against each other, each one wanting her for different reasons. It was tearing him apart.
Rayne could feel his indecision. She knew she had to do...something...now before he said no, before he realized what exactly she was after. Taking a deep breath, she snuggled her head on his shoulder and pressed her lips against his throat. Her hand came up to rest flat on his chest. She could feel his heart thumping under her palm.
"Rayne..." Her name was nothing but a hoarse whisper. It sent a shiver down her back. Not a bad kind of shiver either.
Before he could voice another protest, while he was still a bit weakened by his own thoughts, Rayne lifted her head and kissed him again, not wasting time teasing him, sliding her tongue into his mouth again. Mark hesitated briefly; she could actually feel it the moment that he gave in to what she was doing. He moaned against her mouth and melted into the kiss, giving himself over to the feel of her tongue against his.
Mark tangled his fingers into her hair, tilting her head to get better access. He took control of the kiss, claiming her mouth with his. He wanted this so badly...this human wanting far outweighed anything else he'd ever felt. The old rules did not apply to him, they never had. His father did not own this woman, not yet. She could be his. He could make her his.
Rayne clutched at the collar of his shirt, the mixture of trepidation and lust almost more than she could handle. She hoped that the part of him that wanted her was the human part, the part that had warmed her when she had been cold. Then she made herself stop thinking. It was too late to go back now, either way, this had to be done.
She felt Mark's hand move to her bare thigh, resting on her smooth skin. He was being gentle, so far at least. His hand inched up her leg as he kissed her. He paused when his fingertips encountered the hem of the shirt she had on. For a moment she worried that he had changed his mind, but his hand continued its slow path. His fingers slid under her shirt, and she jumped a little when he brushed against the ticklish spot where her hip flexed.
Mark kept going. He broke their kiss, gasping for breath, then looked down, watching his hand as he progressed up her stomach. The shirt bunched and rose with his movements. Rayne murmured softly and sat up, lifting the material over her head. She bit her lip and waited as he took in her bare breasts, her stomach. He made a low noise in his throat and slid his fingertips up to brush the underside of one, then the other.
Rayne closed her eyes, her head falling back, arching into his touch. The fear...it was going, leaving, as if his very gentleness with her was driving it away. And she suddenly felt hot, on fire...just like that first dream. She needed him to build up that heat then to put her out again.
The first real spark of desire shot through her body as his fingers slowly stroked the hard peak of one nipple. Her eyes fluttered and she stiffened up momentarily. Mark did not seem to notice. His gaze was focused on the movement of his hand over her breast. Rayne felt another flash of heat worm its way across her body, the familiar tension gathering at her center. What happened to just...faking this? She couldn't remember why it had been so important not to get swept up. Her mind was too fogged over with lust.
His thumb stroked over her nipple and she moaned. Mark hesitated then slowly lowered his head, bringing his mouth in proximity. She felt his breath against her skin. Involuntarily she arched her back again, pressing herself against his lips. Mark opened up, pulling her nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue flick over the tip. It was Rayne's turn to tangle her fingers into his hair, to pull him even closer to her body.
Mark released her nipple and turned his attention to her other breast. She tasted sweet...that was the only thought that seemed to register in his mind. He had never noticed that before in a woman...had never thought to pay that much attention to the scent of skin, the texture, the taste. And now he wanted to, he wanted everything.
He explored her breasts with his mouth and let his hand slide down her stomach, tracing her naval with one finger before going lower. He came against the waistband of her panties, and just slid his hand down over then, enjoying the smooth texture of them against his fingertips.
Rayne was whimpering softly as she parted her legs, letting him touch his way down her body. She was at sensory overload, his mouth, his hands, the feel of his erection pressing through his jeans and against her hip...and that deliciously scary heat that licked it's way up from her center, bathing her in its warmth. His hand slid between her thighs, his fingers tracing the leg of her panties. Rayne wiggled, the anticipation was almost enough to drive her mad.
Mark slowly pressed his fingers against her center. Even through the thin material of her panties he could feel her heat. He gently rubbed his fingers back and forth, giving her a little friction. Her hips bucked against his hand. He smiled a little, then pressed into her again, making her gasp.
Abruptly he stopped moving and sat up, looking into her flushed face. She looked at him, her expression on of mixed disappointment and wariness. "Mark...?"
He slid his arm under her knees, his other bracing her back to support her. Without a word, he stood, lifting her with him. Rayne clutched at his shoulders, squeaking in surprise at being lifted so effortlessly.
He kept his silence as he headed toward the stairs. The feel of her in his arms was enough to drive him crazy, but he held it in check. He would not take her in the kitchen, or on the stairs. He wanted her in bed, in his bed. That animal urge to just take her was losing out to the need to be close, to feel everything that he possibly could.