Chapter 38
She wanted him inside her, filling her, claiming her. She broke the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Mack," she pleaded, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "Please, I need you."
Mack smiled, a slow, wicked grin that promised just what she wanted. He reached down, grasping his length and positioning himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, his dark orbs holding her gaze captive. "You're mine, Viola," he growled, his voice laced with possession and desire.
With a slow, deliberate thrust, he filled her completely. Viola gasped, her back arching off the bed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move within her. Mack's hips pistoned against hers, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her.
"Mack," she moaned, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Yes, just like that."
He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he set a punishing rhythm.
Viola's body sang with pleasure, her nails digging into his back as she met him thrust for thrust. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, along with their ragged breaths and desperate moans.
Mack's lips left hers, his mouth trailing down her neck, leaving a scorching path of kisses and bites. Viola threw her head back, her body arching into him as he devoured her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. She could feel the tension building within her, her body coiling like a spring ready to snap.
"Mack," she gasped, her hips moving in sync with his. "I'm close. So close," Viola panted, her body trembling beneath Mack's powerful thrusts. Her nails dug deeper into his back, her legs wrapping around him tighter, urging him on.
Mack groaned against her skin, his body slick with sweat. He could feel her tightening around him, her body begging for release. He wanted to give it to her, to make her come undone beneath him. "That's it, sweetheart. Come for me," he growled, his voice ragged with desire.
He redoubled his efforts, his hips slamming into hers with a fevered intensity. . . . . . .
- - - - - - - - - - -
The first thing Viola noticed when her eyes fluttered open was the scent—rich, dark, roasted coffee. She blinked against the sunlight spilling through the curtains and found Mack standing at the side of the bed, shirtless, hair a little mussed, holding out a steaming mug with that infuriatingly smug smile of his.
"Morning, beautiful," he said, his voice still rough with sleep. "Thought you'd need this after last night."
Viola groaned softly, tugging the blanket higher around her bare shoulders. "You're too chipper for someone who barely slept."
"I slept just fine," Mack smirked, setting the mug down on the nightstand before leaning down to steal a slow, lazy kiss from her lips. "Besides, I've got plans for us today."
Her brows arched, suspicion flickering in her still-sleepy eyes. "Plans? Mack… you know I have chapters to finish."
He pulled back, grabbing his own mug from the dresser. "You'll write later. Today, you're coming with me."
"Coming with you where?" she asked warily, sipping her coffee.
He grinned, eyes glinting with that dangerous edge she was starting to recognize all too well. "Range day. We're heading out to shoot again. I want you with me—another training session. You did good last time, but I want to see what happens when you get a little more confident with my guns."
Vi nearly choked on her coffee. "Your guns? Mack, last time I could barely hold the thing straight. And I thought you said it was a one-time lesson?"
"Change of plans," he said smoothly, setting his mug aside before climbing back onto the bed. He propped himself on one elbow, his free hand tracing lightly along her thigh beneath the sheets. "Besides… watching you handle my weapons is way too tempting not to repeat."
Her cheeks flushed hot. "You're ridiculous."
"Maybe," he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth, "but I also don't miss. And by the time I'm done with you, you won't either."
Viola stared at him, half exasperated, half thrilled, caught between rolling her eyes and laughing at how serious he sounded. "You're insane."
"Only about you." He kissed her again, lingering this time. "Finish your coffee. We're leaving in tw
The drive to the range had been quiet, except for the faint hum of the radio. Viola kept sneaking glances at Mack—focused, calm, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on his thigh. That easy confidence of his both unsettled her and pulled her in.
When they arrived, the place was almost empty. A private setup, she realized quickly. Of course Mack wouldn't bring her somewhere crowded—he didn't like sharing, especially not when it came to her.
He unlocked the case and laid out two handguns and a sleek rifle on the table. Viola swallowed hard, clutching the ear protection he'd handed her.
"Why do I feel like I just stepped into one of your worlds again?" she muttered, half teasing, half nervous.
"Because you did," Mack said simply. He slid behind her, adjusting the safety glasses over her eyes with careful precision. "And I want you to understand it. Not just peek in from the outside."
Her chest tightened. He wanted her in his world. That thought both thrilled and scared her.
Mack picked up a handgun and handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers deliberately. "You remember how I showed you last time?"
"Yes," she said softly, gripping the weapon, though her palms had already gone clammy.
"Show me."
She lifted it, aligning the sights. Mack moved closer—so close his chest brushed against her back. His hands slid over hers, correcting the angle just slightly. His breath tickled her ear.
"Better," he murmured. "Relax your shoulders. You're holding tension. Let it flow through your core instead."
She exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the way his body pressed against hers, the heat rolling off him. She lined up the target and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked, the recoil jerking her arms back.
"Not bad," Mack said, voice low, approving. "But you're still hesitating. You can't hesitate, Vi. Not out there."
Her pulse raced at the seriousness in his tone. She glanced up at him. "Out there? Are you… training me for something?"
His jaw ticked, but his eyes never wavered. "I'm training you to survive. Whether you ever need it or not—that's my job."
The words sent a shiver down her spine. She turned back toward the target, heart pounding, caught between the thrill of his touch guiding her… and the weight of what he wasn't saying.
This wasn't just a game for him.
But the way his hand lingered on her hip, firm and possessive, reminded her it wasn't only about survival either.
Viola fired again, the bullet punching closer to the center this time. A thrill of pride bubbled in her chest, but Mack's low chuckle behind her made her instantly self-conscious.
"What?" she asked, lowering the gun slightly.
"You're trying too hard to impress me," he murmured against her ear, his lips almost grazing her skin. "But you already do."
Her breath caught, the words landing harder than the recoil had.
He reached down, adjusting her stance again, his palms sliding over her hips as if it was the most natural correction in the world. "Feet apart. Firm. You're not delicate, Vi. Stop acting like you'll break."
"I'm not acting—" she started, but then his hand squeezed her hip, sending heat flashing through her body.
"You are." His voice dropped darker. "But I'll fix that."
She swallowed, tightening her grip on the gun to distract herself. "Bossy much?"
"Always." He didn't deny it—in fact, the smug little curl of his lips said he owned it. "You want control, Vi? Prove it. Hit the center."
Challenge flickered in his eyes, sparking that same defiance in her chest. She raised the gun again, locked her shoulders, and fired. The shot landed almost dead-center.
Viola spun around to face him, triumphant. "See? Told you I could."
Mack smirked, slow and devastating. "You did. And it was sexy as hell."
Her cheeks heated, but before she could respond, he plucked the gun from her hands and set it on the table. Then he closed the distance, caging her in with his body until her back brushed the edge of the counter.
His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up. "But don't get it twisted," he murmured, his eyes dark, hungry. "Out here, with weapons in your hand—you might think you're in control."
He leaned closer, his lips brushing hers, just enough to make her heart slam in her chest.
"But with me, Vi…" his thumb stroked her jaw, claiming, "…you'll always surrender."
The kiss that followed wasn't soft, wasn't teasing—it was a collision. Demanding. Possessive. His hands gripping her hips as if she belonged there, against him, in his world.
When he finally pulled back, both of them breathless, Viola's voice came out shaky. "That's not fair."
Mack only grinned, eyes wicked. "Life's not fair, sweetheart. But you'll learn to like the way I play."
enty."