Free Silence: The Faces of Evil Christmas Prequel by Debra Webb Page A

then unfastened her slacks. As the fabric slid down her legs, he sat back on his heels and watched, the amazement in his expression tearing at her heart.
    Her legs trembling, she settled back on the bed. He kissed her bruised knees. Kissed his way up her thighs. When he reached her belly button he urged her down onto the cool sheets. He stilled. She knew he was considering the bruises there too. His lips soothed the sore muscles of her abdomen as he dragged her silky panties down her skin. The muscles deep inside her started that rhythmic pulsing. His mouth moved to that part of her and she couldn’t hold back any longer. Her fingers fisted in the sheets as she cried out with pleasure.
    He did nearly unbearable things to her with nothing more than his lips and tongue until she begged him to stop. He just smiled and started a slow, delicious path up her torso, tasting, sucking, and touching every part of her he encountered. Soothing the bruises with extra attention.
    Somehow her fingers found the closure of his trousers, she got them loosened and shoved them along with his boxers down his hips. He was more than ready, erect and hard, smooth and hot. She wrapped her legs around his waist and forced that part of him toward the ache that was making her writhe in delicious agony.
    He lifted her bottom until the tip of him was just barely inside her.
    She gasped. Couldn’t move... couldn’t speak... she could only feel.
    He pushed in another inch. They both made a sound that came from the fiercest of primal need—the kind of need that defied articulation.
    Slowly, an inch at a time, as if he wanted to savor every part of the act, he filled her. Opened her fully, the way only he ever had. Then he put his face close enough to nuzzle hers. The feel of his lips, the heat of his breath whispered across her cheek as he gave her a moment to adjust to all of him. Then he started to rock his hips so incredibly gently.
    He cradled her face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes. “I want to show you how many ways I’ve missed you.” He took her mouth with his own and kissed her as if it might be the last time he ever kissed anyone.
    His gentle rocking grew harder, faster and she lost herself completely. She screamed with an orgasm unlike any she’d experienced since the last time they’d made love. Her legs still wrapped around his waist, he held her tight against his chest as he stood, their bodies remaining intimately connected. She laid her head against his shoulder while he kicked free of the trousers and boxers puddled around his ankles.
    He carried her to the window, sat her naked bottom on the cool, marble ledge. He pulled back, almost all the way, then slid into her, and repeated the motions over and over. The rhythm was slow, the thrusts deep. His skin was so hot. Every place he touched her he set a fire even as the cold glass at her back and the chilly marble beneath her bottom tried to cool her. He nibbled at her ear... teased her chin with his teeth, never losing that perfect tempo.
    He suddenly slowed, peered out the window beyond her. “Every time,” he said breathlessly, “I look at those lights I think of you. It’s the reason I chose this place.”
    She tightened her legs around his waist, took him in as deep as her body would allow. “Come here.” She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him solidly on the mouth. He lifted her against him and carried her back to the bed. He laid her there and came down on top of her without breaking that kiss or the perfect bond of their bodies. Mere seconds later she was ready to come again.
    He made love to her over and over. Fast and hard. Slow and tender. She came more times than she could remember. Over and over he kissed every part of her that was bruised and damaged by the evil she had survived.
    The last time he came he collapsed beside her, pulled her to him and whispered something unintelligible in her ear.
    The words followed her to sleep and somewhere along