Free Mine to Keep by Cynthia Eden Page B

Hollowing her out and leaving Skye limp.
    She sagged beneath him.
    Trace without his control…    
    “I warned you.” His voice was different.  Stilted.
    She found the strength to turn her head a few inches and look back at him. His face appeared leaner, harder.
    “Next time…” Skye heard herself say, “fuck me harder.”
    His body tensed.  “
Skye.
” And he started to fuck her again. 
    He wasn’t treating her like a delicate doll or like a victim—and she wanted every single thing he had to give her.
    A moan slipped from her.
    Fuck me harder.
    She was lost.
    ***
    Trace stared down at Skye while she slept.  The covers pooled around her, and Skye’s hand was out, reaching toward his pillow.
    As if she were reaching for him in her sleep.
    After last night, she still wants me?
    Talk about a miracle.
    He’d given her a taste of the darkness that lived inside of him last night. She hadn’t been afraid. Despite everything, Skye hadn’t hesitated.
    She’d given him pleasure. Demanded her own.
    Fuck me harder.
    His cock twitched just thinking about those words.
    Was it any wonder that other women had left him cold? They’d never been enough for him, because they weren’t Skye.
    His fingers lifted and brushed lightly over her cheek. He wanted to let her sleep, but if he did, Trace knew Skye would be pissed.
    She wanted to go to her studio. She wanted to start seeing her students.
    And he wanted her happy.
    He bent and brushed his lips over hers. “Wake up, baby.”
    Her eyes blinked open. For an instant, she seemed lost, then Skye focused her gaze on him.  A soft smile curved her lips. 
    She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
    And he had to leave her. 
    He kissed her again. “I have to go in to the office today. Reese will to take you to the studio.”
    Her brow furrowed. “More guard duty? But I thought—”
    “Humor me, just a little longer.” Until he could get a better grasp on just what was happening in this town. Sharpe had spoken of a ghost and of the dead coming back.  Trace had tried to tell him that the past was dead and buried but…
    Was that past coming back?
    She’ll destroy you.
    The hell she would.
    “Tonight…” His fingers brushed down her arm. “I’m supposed to attend a charity auction and ball. It’s something I agreed to attend months ago.” Before Skye had walked back into his life. “I don’t want to ditch because the money’s going to the Children’s Home and—”
    “You have to attend,” Skye said immediately.
    He nodded. They’d both been through the foster system. Cast out.  They knew what it was like to need a stable home.
    “Do you want to go with me?” And, yes, he was actually holding his breath as he waited for Skye’s reply. But he knew that she hadn’t been to a big public event, not since before her car crash in New York. There would be plenty of reporters waiting outside of the hotel because so many of the city’s elite would be attending, and Skye might not want to walk right into that feeding frenzy but—
    “Of course, Trace, you know I’d go anywhere with you.”
    His heart ached at her words. 
    She pushed up, leaning toward him. “I’ll always go where—”
    Skye broke off when he caught her arms. Carefully, very carefully, he lowered her back onto the bed.
    “Trace? What is it?”
    He pushed the covers out of the way.
    And hated himself.  
    He could see his fingerprints—dark smudges, brown bruises, on her waist. He’d held her hips so tightly last night that he’d hurt her.
    He’d always known that he had to take care with Skye. She was too delicate. Too breakable for him. “I hurt you.”
    Her gaze followed his. She stared at the bruises on her flesh.  Markings.
My mark.
    The ache in his chest grew worse. He’d never wanted to do this. Never—
    Skye laughed. “That’s nothing. Obviously, you didn’t see the claw marks I left on your back.”
    His head snapped up at her words.  
    A smile lit her face. Made