Free Captive at Christmas by Danielle Taylor Page A

any sign of reprieve. Mac pushed her further into the abyss, teasing and tormenting her with clever fingers. His touch branded her while their hips met, clashing and colliding until he finally gave her what she’d been frantic for since the first moment he entered her.
    Seconds before she shattered beneath him, her soul expelling itself to the stars above, he clutched her to him and trembled with her name on his lips. In that instant, Hannah knew that she would never love anyone as much as she loved Mackenzie.

 

     
     
     
     
    “What are you doing, Hannah?”
    Taking absolutely no notice of his growls, Hannah continued to run her fingers over every part of his bared torso. Mac hid himself under layers of clothing not because he was cold, but because of the collection of scars that crisscrossed over his flesh.
    Most appeared to be superficial, however there were a large number of scars that looked as though they had been unbelievably painful when they were formed.
    “Hannah,” he winced as she smoothed her hand along a nine inch long purple mark on his back.
    “Is it still sore?” She placed feather-light grazes of her lips on the skin around his wound until he eventually stopped flinching.
    Mac let out a ragged sigh and moved onto his back, pulling her down with him. “It’s just…recent. Too recent,” he confessed. “And yeah, a little. Gettin’ better though.”
    The devastatingly crushing truth of his past was carved out over his body. Only a handful of times had she seen anything even close to this and of all those people put together, it didn’t look as horrific. Her entire being ached and she silently forgave his cruel actions towards her during their time together.
    As if to take the focus off of himself, Mac asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”
    “I’m fine,” she whispered against the firmness of his stomach. “Just a little tender.”
    The momentary sting she felt was nothing compared to what he had endured.
    Torture.
    Just the word brought images to her mind that she would rather not see.
    Knowing that he had experienced such agony forced another rush of tears to surface.
    “And what about earlier?”
    Groaning, she replied, “Actually, I managed to successfully push it from my mind until you mentioned it.”
    “I’m sorry, Hannah.” Mac sighed, gently massaging her scalp. Neither of them wanted to remember the events that occurred that day. “You know what sounds like a little slice of heaven right now?”
    She looked up the length of his abdomen and into his eyes. “What?”
    The left-hand corner of his mouth drew back, lower lip slipped between his teeth. “That whirlpool tub. Think you’re up for it?”
    His smile felt like a gift and she gazed at him, saving this moment to the hard-drive of her brain. “I don’t think I can move, to be honest.” Proving a point, Hannah tried to push herself up on shaking arms. Wrists and elbows buckled, and she collapsed into his arms. “See?”
    A deep, hearty laugh erupted from his chest. “I suppose I’ll have to carry you then, huh?”
    “Mac, when our time here is up, it’s really going to be up, isn’t it?” The question escaped her before she could stop it.
    “Hannah …”
    At least she had her answer. Hannah rested her head against his heart, wanting to remember how he felt, sounded and smelled, storing those memories away for later. She moved her fingers through the light smattering of dark hair over his chest and breathed deeply to keep her emotions in check.
    “Hannah, even if it was possible…I told you, I can’t.”
    She nodded, touching her lips to his firm, tanned skin. Mac closed himself off – emotionally and only God knew what other ways – as a form of self-preservation. It broke her heart that he thought himself unworthy of friendship and love, but she couldn’t force it on him.
    All she could do was exactly what she had been doing. Give him her love without attaching any strings. Even if, by