Allie held up her hand. “Stop.” Enough was enough. She turned to leave but he caught her wrist.
“Not until you stop lying to yourself and end this charade.”
“It’s not that simple,” she shot back.
Hudson let out a harsh laugh. “Why, because the fucking invitations have gone out? Is that some rule of high society? No turning back once the announcement has run on page six? The rules you’ve lived by, the ones you had no say in creating no longer apply, Alessandra. If you continue to allow people to lead you down a predetermined path, then you’re not the woman I think you are.”
Tears pooled in Allie’s eyes. “I don’t know what you want from me.” She took an involuntary step backward as Hudson pushed away from the desk. He stepped closer until he stood before her, the bookshelf at her back. His proximity and the intensity of his gaze overwhelmed her, and she looked away, torn between the urge to run and the urge to wrap her arms around him and never let him go.
He cupped her jaw and gently turned her head. His blue eyes burned with sincerity. “What I want is for you to ask yourself what makes you happy. Not your parents, but you.”
A stray tear slid down her cheek and he caught it with his thumb.
“You have it in you to get what you want,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “You have all along.”
Dipping his head, Hudson took her mouth in a tender kiss. His lips moved softly over hers, his tongue lightly tracing the seam of her lips until she opened for him. He entered slowly, reverently, teasing and tasting her with soft, shallow licks as her body melted into his.
He sighed deeply and let his forehead rest against hers. “I promised myself I wouldn’t bring this up till next weekend, but I can’t do this anymore, Allie. I can’t keep pretending two weeks will be enough.” His impassioned voice was barely a whisper. “The thought of you leaving tears me apart, a knife twisting into my soul.”
His confession burned through her like fire, igniting her body with a desperate need. She grabbed him, pulling him to her and kissing him with all the pent-up emotion of the past two weeks. Every feeling, every desire, every unspoken word poured into that one kiss.
“I won’t share you,” he murmured against her lips. “I can’t. And it’s not just male pride.”
Hudson leaned back to look at her, his eyes dark and smoldering. “The thought of another man touching you . . .” His hand smoothed over the curve of her waist. “Making love to you . . .” His fingers dug into her hip. “It’s unbearable.”
Grasping the back of her thigh, he lifted her leg, draping it over his as he placed his foot on one of the lower shelves. With a flex of his hips he pressed her against the bookshelf. “It’s either me or him.”
Her body moved of its own volition, pushing back against the erection straining the seam of his fly.
He watched her through hooded eyes. “If you can honestly tell me you want to walk away from this, I won’t stand in your way.” His fingers threaded with hers and he lifted her hand, pinning it above her head. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you decide.”
Allie felt her engagement ring slip from her finger.
“But tonight you’re mine.”
Hudson moved fast and swift, undoing his fly and shifting her panties. In one lithe movement he thrust inside her, emphasizing his words with the force of his body. She moaned, relishing the feel of him, but then all too quickly he withdrew. The emptiness she felt brought an unwelcome ache.
“More?” His voice was thick and husky.
“Yes.”
He groaned and drove to the hilt once more.
“Harder,” she breathed, wanting all he had to give.
Allie gasped as he surged into her, claiming both her body and her mouth. Over and over he took her, his tongue stroking hers with the same ferocious passion as his thrusts. Her senses were overloaded. The scent of his skin, the feel of his body, the taste of his mouth. She was surrounded by him, inside and out.
His arm banded around her waist, pulling her down to meet his punishing drives, and she tilted her hips, trying to take more of him. She clung to his shoulders and felt the muscles in his back flex as he gripped the shelf above her head. With his foot leveraged on the lower shelf, he powered into her, practically climbing the bookcase as he tried to get deeper and deeper inside her.
Her eyes fluttered closed, memorizing the feel of him moving hard and strong inside her—filling her, stretching her, possessing her—and a hot tear slid down her cheek. The intensity of their connection was almost more than she could bear.
He moved faster, pushed higher, until finally it became too much. Her back arched against the shelves and her body exploded in a violent rush.
“Again,” he growled, and with a roll of his hips drove her over the edge once more. Her head fell back on a desperate cry of his name as fierce tremors pulsed through her. Hudson was tireless, grinding into her with unrelenting thrusts until she came again and again, each orgasm rolling into the next as her core clenched and released.
With a long, deep groan he drove hard one last time, burying his face in her neck as he found his release. His breath was harsh and hot against her skin. “Never enough, Allie. It will never be enough.”
Her body shuddered on a silent sob and she collapsed against his chest. Totally exhausted. Totally sated.
Totally his.
Chapter Thirty-five
Shots rang out.
Like a fist out of the darkness, the nightmare seized Hudson with a fury. He couldn’t move and his heart was hammering in his chest.
Sucked into the vortex of terror, he was on his knees, unable to speak. Death encircled him as the metallic stench of blood coated the back of his throat. It was splattered on his shirt and dripping from his fingers in rivulets.
Flashing lights descended on the convenience store and the image sharpened. They’d come back in for something. What had he foolishly wanted? Crippling grief haunted every cell of his body.
Wake up, damn it . . . wake up. Hudson fisted the sheets under him in his rising panic.
A weak hand captured his and held on. Everything was chaos. People ran around him shouting commands. His mother skidded to her knees, slipping through the viscous liquid that stained her legs, and wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her chest. She was so cold, yet the room was stifling hot and he was sweating.
And as quick as a last breath, the hand clutching his let go. The sounds of his mother’s scream ricocheted off the walls so loudly he thought the fluorescent lights above them would shatter.
He should be crying, shouldn’t he? With a scream lodged in his burning throat, Hudson squeezed his eyes shut, straining to force tears out for someone he should be crying for. Why wasn’t he crying? Why couldn’t he cry for the one person who meant so much to him?
This was his fault . . .
All his fault.
“Hudson.” Gentle cool hands landed on his chest. “Hudson, wake up.”
White-knuckling the sheets, Hudson thrashed his legs and his chest heaved with a panting breath.
“Hudson. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”