by Lora Leigh
Sabella’s hips arched, her gaze followed his. It was the most erotic sight she could have imagined, seeing his fingers penetrating her, pulling back, then pushing inside her again as his head lowered.
“I’m going to eat you like candy, baby,” he told her, the sexual, erotic sound of his voice spearing into her womb. “Like the sweetest candy.”
His tongue licked around her clit and he watched her, held her eyes. The tip flickered over the tight, straining bud before he went beneath it and lapped at it. Long, slow licks as his fingers shifted and shafted inside her.
“You’re going to tease me to death,” she panted.
“Fuck us both to death,” he growled before sucking the tender knot of nerves into his mouth and creating the most exquisite sensation. He drew on her, let his tongue rub against the ultrasensitive flesh as she cried out his name.
“Not fair,” she cried out.
“Hmm. So sweet.” He kissed the little bud gently.
“I want to touch you.”
“You make me crazy when you touch me.” He nipped her thigh. “You make me lose my mind with hunger.”
“Yes,” she hissed, lifting until she rested on her elbows, staring back at him. “Like you make me. Lie back for me, Noah. Let me touch you. Let me ride you.” She grinned back at him. “Afraid you can’t handle me?”
Hell, he knew he couldn’t handle it. But it was a dare, a challenge, and Sabella had never challenged him quite like this.
He pulled his fingers back from her tight grip, grinned, and sucked her juices from them. Her face flushed, her eyes darkened, and it was the prettiest damned sight he had ever seen.
Then he pulled back and lay down for her. Watching her, his body tensing, tightening as she moved between his thighs as he had hers.
“Oh, I think I like this.” Her hands smoothed up the bunched muscles of his thighs, coming close, so close but not touching the tortured sac of his balls.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, baby,” he told her, his voice rougher than normal, the blood pumping harder, faster through his body.
He linked his hands beneath his head, otherwise he was going to jerk her over him and take what he knew she would give him anyway.
“I like living dangerously.” Her lips lowered, lowered.
“Ah fuck!”
Her lips were on his balls, open, drawing one side into her mouth, her tongue flickering playfully, licking at the tight sac as his hips jerked, arched involuntarily.
The whisper of her moan filled his head as he watched her. He had to watch her. This was another side of his wife that he had never known. Catlike, seductive. Licking and stroking until she was licking up the ropy veined shaft of his cock and finally, teasingly, mouthing the head of his cock.
He watched her lick the crest. Watched her suck him into her mouth. Watched her love every inch of his massively hard erection.
He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead. Felt the arousal like an ecstatic, rapacious bite tear through his system.
She moaned and sucked the crown deeper. Tongued it. Consumed it, until he thought he was going to die from the need to fuck her. To have her. To pound into her until she was screaming his name.
Finally, her lips lifted. She shifted, moved, stood. Noah stared up at the juices that had built on her pretty, bare pussy. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste. Knowing he needed to fuck her more.
He pulled his hands from beneath his head, gripped his cock with one hand, spearing it up to her as his hand lightly circled her ankle.
“I want to watch,” he growled. “Let me watch you take me, Sabella.”
With her feet flat on the floor she bent her knees, keeping her thighs wide, and she lowered herself to him. Noah let his hand caress up her leg, grip her hip. Watched, watching in agonizing pleasure as the engorged crest parted the swollen folds.
He watched the lips of her pussy embrace the blunt tip of his erection, felt the fiery heat of her, the slick, wet desire that rained from her. And he watched as she lowered herself, felt as he began to impale her.
She took only the head, then lifted, let him see the juices coating the tip of his cock before she lowered further. Took more, lifted.
Smooth pale thighs tensed. Swollen, hard-tipped breasts glistened in firelight. And he watched as she took him. A little. Then pulled back. And watched with each downward stoke, then saw the slick, heated syrup clinging to his cock as she lifted.
She took him slowly. Relishing every penetration, every stretch as her tight pussy enfolded him. Released him.
He could feel the sweat beading his body, feel her nails digging into his chest. And he felt her take him to the hilt on a long, slow downward motion of her body.
He felt the moment she lost herself in the pleasure, because he lost himself with her. He pulled her to him, easing her onto him as she straddled him fully now, her knees on the floor, her back arching.
His hands gripped her ass as she moved. Each thrust pushed him deep inside her as she did just as she had promised. Rode him. With quick hard motions of her hips. Long slow shifts and slides, then quick and hard again. His hips lifted to her, his hands covered her breasts, palmed them, then as he felt her building, climbing to her pleasure, he let his fingers grip the hard little points and apply just enough pressure to send her rocketing over the edge.
Noah felt himself unraveling. Staring at her face, the exquisite ecstasy, the sweat running in rivulets down her neck, her breasts, he lost that last hold on reality. He poured himself into her, pumping hard and deep, feeling his come spurting, jetting from the head of his cock as he groaned her name and pulled her to him.
His lips on hers. His tongue licking her, tasting her, loving her.
Until the pleasure left her limp, exhausted. A drowsy little kitten against his chest. His Sabella.
When he could breathe again, when he could think, he turned, laid her back on the floor, and pulled from her. She mumbled a protest as he grinned and lifted her into his arms.
He carried her to their bed, tucked her in then moved downstairs to smother the fire and close the glass doors to the fireplace.
Naked, ravaged by her loving, he watched the glowing embers for long moments before returning to her. She was sleeping. One arm thrown over her head, her left hand lying on her stomach, atop the blanket. The wedding band winked back at him, mocking him.
She belonged to Nathan Malone. That wedding band reminded her of that. He knew why she had put it back on again, to remind her where her heart belonged, even if another man did touch her body.
He lay down, sliding beneath the blankets, watched her sleeping face and knew she was lost in slumber.
He lifted her hand, kissed the ring he had slid on her finger eight years ago, and closed his eyes against the pain rising inside him.
“Go síoraí.” He whispered the vow against that little gold band, and felt the helpless, gaping pain in his soul. “Forever, Sabella. Always yours. Forever.”
He held her hand in his as he laid his head on the pillow beside her, and let sleep have him as well.
He didn’t see the tear that fell from the corner of her eye. He didn’t see her lips move, see the word “forever” pass the trembling curves. And he didn’t understand, Sabella knew, that no matter where he went, how hard he ran, that vow would always follow them both.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By Monday morning information was amassing. The team was called to the apartment over the garage for a before-dawn meeting after Noah received another call from Jordan. Jordan was in attendance with pictures transferred from the field laptop Travis was using above the ranch, as well as satellite images obtained through a commercial satellite Tehya had managed to hijack during the night.
There was definitely something going on at the Patrick ranch.
“We have Federal Judge Carl Clifford as well as Marshal Kevin Lyle in attendance.” Jordan pointed out the pictures Travis Caine had taken from his vantage point above the Patrick ranch
house. “We also have several other ranch owners in attendance.” Several other pictures snapped into view. Grant Malone wasn’t one of those ranch owners.
Noah didn’t let himself feel a sense of relief that Grant wasn’t there. At this point, he was finished with the man who should have been his father.
“We also have this.”
This was a picture of a black van parked behind the house. A figure was being dragged from the vehicle by two cowboys. The face was covered by black material, hands bound.
“Chuck Leon,” Noah stated. “Our missing mechanic.”
“Try our missing undercover FBI agent,” Jordan snorted. “He was a lower-level member of the militia, working his way up the ranks. He’s been in the area for over six years. Kept a low profile, worked a few of the ranches. His cover was blown two days ago and no one knows how. We have a leak between here and Washington, and we can’t tap it, we can’t find it. It’s like a disease, and it’s starting to piss me off.”
Jordan’s expression was brutal.
“Four FBI agents, all using completely different undercover identities,” John Vincent pointed out, his steely gray eyes flickering between the men in the team. “It’s not a leak you have, it’s a rather good eye.”
Noah slid the other man a curious look.
Dressed in camo pants and an olive green T-shirt, Vincent leaned forward in his chair and tapped at the pictures of the four agents. “College student, car salesman, pharmacist, and mechanic. Those were their covers. They were all in different areas, in different jobs, but all those jobs were public related in some manner. Now, I don’t know ’bout you blokes, but I can smell an agent, foreign or otherwise, a mile off. Your mechanic was better than most.” He nodded to Noah. “But we all suspected him as a plant. He had that feel, that air of an agent that only another agent or trained eye would recognize.” He tilted his sandy blond hair and stared at the pictures. “Are we certain the sheriff’s clean?”
“The sheriff is clean. We know it.” Jordan nodded. “Then you have someone else. An officer on the police force, a deputy or other law enforcement agent with the training that would allow him to identify your agents. It takes a special eye, you know that. Grayson has that eye. I know damned well he does because every time he sees one of us he gets that cop look in his eye and starts trying to figure out the puzzle.”
Noah scratched at his beard as he rose from the couch and paced the living room. “Grayson’s clear, so who does that leave us with?”
He turned back to the other men. There were no answers.
“It has to be a resident. Someone who’s come in contact with these agents between here and Houston.”
“A needle in a haystack,” Nik quipped before turning to Jordan. “Are we rescuing Mr. Leon?” Anticipation filled the Russian’s large face.
“At this time, we’re watching.” Jordan’s expression cleared, his eyes went hard. “They don’t just kill, they hunt. Let’s see if they take him out to hunt.”
Months of training in preparation just for this tightened Noah’s body. They had practiced being the hunted. All of them. Playing intricate games of cat and mouse, flee and evade, working together to give the illusion of one target as they circled around the SEAL members playing the hunters to take them out. Not that taking out Reno Chavez’s SEAL team had been easy. Their success rate with those men had been dismal.
But Gaylen Patrick and his little hunting party weren’t a SEAL team prepared for them.
“Stay on alert.” Jordan began gathering his equipment together and storing it in the leather case he had carried with him. “When they move with Leon, we move.”
Noah crossed his arms over his chest as he paced into the kitchen, his mind working through probables. He couldn’t get the information out of his head now. Something wasn’t sliding into its proper slot, and he couldn’t figure out why.
“We’re certain Grayson is clean?” He turned back to Jordan with the question.
“As certain as we can be.” Jordan nodded. “We have his office bugged, Tehya’s been running through the tapes. The man is ready to pull his own head off trying to figure this out. He knows there’s someone, somewhere, leaking information. He just can’t tag the leak or where it’s coming from.”
“It’s someone close,” Noah growled. “The wild card in this little setup has to be someone we’re overlooking. Someone the mechanic was in contact with as well.”
“If you figure it out, we’re ready to roll.” Jordan shrugged. “Until then, all we can do is play what we have.”
Jordan looked outside to the faint rays of light edging through the darkness. “We better clear out and get in position.”
The last thing they needed was for all of them to be in the apartment at the same time. As Jordan, John, and Micah slipped from the garage, Noah turned back to Nik.
The Russian was slumped back in his chair, his icy eyes narrowed as he watched Noah pace.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Nik growled. “Shit’s going to explode.”
Noah heaved a hard sigh. “Yeah, shit’s going to fly when it hits. Do you have everything laid in place?”
Nik nodded to that. It was their own plan. A series of weapons and equipment placed in strategic locations in the mountains where they had known several hunts had taken place.
They were both carrying deactivated trackers in the buckles of their belts, and the technologically advanced night vision contacts they had procured from another source. That particular toy hadn’t even made it into military testing in the three years they had been in research.
“And your woman?” Nik asked.
Noah looked at him from the corner of his eye. “I have her covered.”
Rory was all the backup he had, but Nik didn’t have to know that.
Nik grinned at his answer but nodded as he rose from his seat. Noah went to the door of the apartment, stepped outside, and checked the area before heading down the steps and making his way back to the house.
The lights were on in the kitchen. Sabella would have coffee waiting. As he entered through the back door, the past flooded him like a tidal wave, momentarily washing away everything but the memories.
Sabella, wrapped in nothing but a robe, making biscuits. Bacon was frying on the stove, water was boiling for the grits. Eggs were set out on the counter and her smile was still tinged with sleep as she looked at him.
She was rumpled, sexy, and cooking breakfast. Here was one of the few glimpses he had been given of the woman who had shared his life. The woman who held his soul.
“You already showered.” She pouted back at him. “I guess that means you intend to work?”
Noah let a smile curve his lips as he advanced toward to her. He turned off the bacon, jerked his belt loose as he turned to her, and pushed the bowl of flour out of the way.
Surprise widened her eyes as he gripped her waist, lifted her to the little work island, and stepped between her thighs then unzipped his jeans and drew his raging erection from the opening.
“Noah, are you crazy?” She laughed, aroused and excited. He could smell the excitement on her. As he spread her thighs and glimpsed the shimmering sweetness between them, he could see her excitement.
He lowered his head and ran his tongue through her pussy. She tasted like a lazy summer morning. Like a fire in winter. Like all the dreams he told himself could never be. She was his oasis in the middle of hell, and he needed her again. Right now.
He circled the straining bud of her clit, wrapped his lips around it, and stared up at her face as she leaned back, propping her tiny feet easily on his shoulders and arching into his intimate kiss.
He circled the straining bud with his tongue, rasped it, sucked it and watched her, heard her as she arched to him and came undone.
As the little orgasm rushed through her, trembled through her pussy, he straightened, gripped the base of his cock in his hand, and positioned himself before plunging inside her.
“Noah.” She screamed his
name.
Sabella felt the incredible pleasure stealing through her again. It worked over her nerve endings, the burning stretch between her thighs echoing through her body as she fought to hold on to her senses.
She gripped the edge of the work center, her legs falling over his arms as he held her hips and pulled her closer.
There were few preliminaries, and she didn’t need them. She had been ready for him when she awoke alone, missing him. Desperate for one more touch, one more kiss, before she had to face whatever she could feel coming.
“Damn you. You’re tight as a vise around me,” he groaned, leaning to her, his lips feathering over hers. “Like fire and ecstasy together.”
She panted as her body adjusted to the invasion. Taking him, all at once, was pleasure and pain, it was an inferno of sensations she couldn’t grasp or make sense of as she felt herself flying to the edge of release. Her hands tunneled into his hair, holding his lips to hers as they made love with their mouths, their tongues. As they moved and thrust against each other, pleasure tearing through them, almost violent, tinged with desperation as she moaned into his kiss and fought for more.
Then he was giving her more. Moving between her thighs, plunging into her, taking her over that edge and filling her mind with a rainbow of colors as their release exploded into and around each other.
His seed pumped inside her. His groan was a harsh, rasping sound of completion and need, and he was holding her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to him as he buried his face at her shoulder and they both shook, trembled, in the wake of the pleasure.
She couldn’t imagine being without him now. She wouldn’t let herself imagine being without him.
His kiss was long and slow now. His eyes open as she stared back at him.
“Hmm. That was a surprise.” She smiled as he moved back from her, her breath catching at the feel of his cock sliding from her body, tugging at the oversensitive tissue, before he lifted her and set her back on her feet. “I’m supposed to walk now?”
She smoothed her hand over his chest as he bent his head and stole another kiss.