Page 37 of Malachi
“I just thought I would —” I began, stammering slightly over my words. He was mad. Actually mad this time, not just annoyed.
“You thought you would what? Continue to annoy me bynotlisteningyet again?” He turned then, turning to face me. I saw something cross his face as he looked at me.
I didn’t know what to say. His anger was evident in every bit of him, his face, his stance, in the way he even breathed.
“What… are… you… wearing?” His words came out slowly, spoken through clenched teeth as he slowly prowled towards me. He narrowed his eyes, looking at me up and down, much as he did when he stalked me through the woods, but this time it was different. I couldn’t tell if this was another of his sexy games, or if this was born out of genuine anger. I was frightened.
“Malachi…” I uttered quietly, my breaths coming in small, shaky gasps. I stepped backwards slowly, just one tiny step as he neared me.
“Don’t move.” The command was a whisper, but something inside of me told me to listen.
“Now, answer. What are you wearing?” he growled at me, his eyes fixating not on my face, but on my breasts, on my body, up and down so very slowly. His steps brought him closer and closer until he was standing right in front of me. I could feel his breath on my hair. I didn’t look up to meet his eyes. Fear and arousal held me tightly in their grasp.
“Answer,” he commanded, his words fluttering the wisps of hair on my forehead that had come loose from my braid.
“I didn’t have —” I started, but he cleared his throat loudly, halting my words.
“Eyes on me, little bird,” he whispered in the most sinful way imaginable. My pulse quickened, my body reacting to his tone, just as it did out in the trees. My eyes lifted, taking in his strong, hard body until I found his gaze. His eyes burned into mine. My mouth went dry. “Good girl. Now, try again.”
“I didn’t have any clean clothes suitable for working,” I whispered, barely audible.
“So you took my clothing?” he muttered, his fingers moving to my chin, holding onto my face firmly, our eyes locked on one another.
“Are you mad?” I asked, biting my lower lip in nervousness.
“Mad? Do I seem mad to you?” he asked, a light smirk playing at his lips. I wanted to kiss him when he looked at me that way. I wanted him to push me back against the barn door and kiss me until I couldn’t think straight. But he didn’t. He just held me there, enthralled with him, waiting with bated breath for his next words, his next command.
“Answer, little bird,” he muttered, his eyes drifting down to my lips, where I nervously chewed on my lower lip. “When you do that, it makes me… want things,” he admitted hesitantly.
“What things?” I asked, against my better judgment.
“Things. That’s all you need to know, little bird,” he cooed, that smirk growing wider as his eyes stayed focused right there on my mouth.
“Tell me,” I urged him, needing to know, desperate to hear the words.
“I want to hurt you,” he growled. I gasped, my eyes widening. In fear, in arousal, in everything all at once.
“Hurt me?” I managed to utter. His hand gripped my chin harder, turning my face slightly as my cheeks brushed against my teeth with the force of his grasp.
“Yes, hurt you. I want to push you against any available surface,” he sighed so heavily, his pupils dilating with the strength of his arousal. His nostrils flared. “You smell like sunshine, and earth, and all things wild. I want to be wild with you, little bird.” His words had my arousal spinning inside me, swirling around like a tempest ready to explode.
“So hurt me, Malachi. Show me. Show me how it can be,” I all but begged him, the conversation I had overheard floating away on the wind as though it had never happened, replaced by the here and now, the arousal and the desire.
“You’re not ready for that,” hetsked. He was toying with me, as a cat would a mouse.
“Try me,” I teased right back. My nipples chafed and rubbed against the flannel of his shirt, his body so close to mine I could feel the heat radiating off of him, yet still not touching. So close. So far.
“Careful what you wish for, little bird.” It was the only warning he gave before his lips were on mine, his hand nearly crushing my jaw as he pulled me into him. My body crashed against his, my hands finding his shirt and holding him as close as possible. My body was alive, awakened by his kiss. His teeth nipped at mine, nibbling and pulling at the same lower lip I had just been toying with until my lips opened beneath him.
I swallowed the sound of his groan as our tongues met, toying and teasing each other with passion and a fire that threatened to consume me. It was like the flames of his desire, of our combined desire, licked at the very flesh of my body, setting me ablaze for him.
His hand moved down my back, over the curve of my behind, squeezing hard until I gasped into his kiss. His hand moved over my body, lower and lower, until he cupped my thigh, pulling my leg up to wrap around his waist. He pulled me up until only the tip of my toe scraped against the straw covered barn floor as he shoved me backwards, my back colliding with the barn wall with a heavy thud.
“Malachi,” I groaned low in my throat a mere instant before his lips were on mine again. My arms wrapped around his neck, tugging and lifting myself until I could wrap both of my legs around his waist, his hard arousal grinding against the place I wanted him most. The thin material of his sleep pants offered little protection from his hard length connecting with my sex. I was dripping for him, feeling myself tighten and clench deep within with want for him.
His hand moved up, fingers grasping my braid and tugging roughly as he held my head captive, unmoving for the onslaught of his rough kisses.
“I want you,” he hissed against my swollen lips, grinding against me, thrusting as though there were no barrier between us.
