by Lora Leigh
More than hour later, Emily disconnected the call she had made to Wilma Dunmore. The other woman hadn’t seemed in the least put off by the fact that Emily was asking about the security around the mansion for the party. The number of security guards, the areas most heavily guarded, and the security weaknesses. Of course, Wilma Dunmore never took anything for granted. She was one of the few women Emily knew who could have run the country with little or no help.
Sitting down at her desk she made a quick sketch of the Dunmore mansion, drawing on her memories of it from the visits she had made there since she was a child, and added in the security details Wilma had given her.
As she worked, she saw several points that she outlined to discuss with the hostess later that evening. As she finished the last notes, the bedroom door opened and Kell stepped inside.
She could feel the anger pulsing from him in waves.
“I want you out of here.” His voice was dark, dangerous, as he closed the door behind him with a snap. “You don’t need to go to this party. You don’t fucking need to wave yourself at that assassin like a fresh piece of meat in front of a hungry dog.”
Emily leaned back in her chair as she stared at him, watching as he stalked toward her, his body tense as he scowled down at her furiously.
His gaze was predatory, his expression fierce. Before, she might have hesitated to argue with him. She knew this expression. The alpha-male look that said things were going to go his way or else.
In this case, it would be “or else.” Because she wasn’t backing down.
“What better way to draw him out?” she asked logically. At least, she hoped it was logical. “I can’t run forever, Kell, you know that as well as I do.”
“Running forever isn’t an option, just until we catch the bastard that put Fuentes onto you.” He plowed his fingers roughly through his hair. “Emily, be reasonable about this. There’s no way to ensure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you won’t be hurt. I can’t do that.” She saw the grimace that twisted his expression. “I can’t let you be hurt.”
“Why? I’m just a job, Kell. When it’s over, you’ll walk away to the next job, and then to the next job. You do your best—”
“Is that all you think this is?”
Before Emily could do more than gasp she found herself jerked from the desk chair. Kell’s hands were wrapped around her upper arms firmly, holding her upright as he glowered down at her.
“What else is it then?” Emily cried back, feeling her heart suddenly racing in her chest, a sensitivity clashing through her body that hadn’t been there before.
She could feel the force of his will whipping around her. It was in the fierce brightening of his eyes, the hint of Cajun accent in his tone, and the heavy sensuality that suddenly shaped his lips.
“Why don’t I show you what else it is, sugar.” His lips pulled back, revealing the line of his clenched teeth and the snarl of determination in his lips a second before his head lowered, those lips shaped themselves to hers, and his teeth parted to allow his tongue to plunge ruthlessly into her mouth.
Hard, desperate. There was no denying, no escaping, the hunger that suddenly ignited inside her.
This was a punch of emotion-fueled need, hunger, a driving quest to sate the greedy sensuality that rose between them each time their gazes met.
It had been building since that first look from across the garishly lit stage where she had stripped for him. That first look, his gaze even behind the dark glasses locking with hers and opening a part of her soul she hadn’t known existed.
Nothing had mattered but his touch, since that day. The stroke of his tongue against hers as he took the right to fuel her lusts and to sate them. The feel of his arms suddenly surrounding her, his fingers burrowing into her hair as hers slid into the cool, silky strands of his as well.
She needed this. She was starved for it. The buildup was destroying her senses, her control. The pleasure was sensory overload. How could one woman bear the tingles of erotic electricity racing through her veins and prickling over her nerve endings? It made her want to scream. Made her want to rub against every inch of him and feel more of it. Like a cat. Like a sex kitten, eager for more.
“Damn you! You steal my mind,” he growled, jerking his lips from hers only to move along her jaw to the delicate shell of her ear, then the sensitive nape of her neck.
“Let me steal it more,” she whimpered, pulling at his shirt, desperate to bare his flesh. “You’re not teasing me again, Kell. Not this time. You have to finish this.”
She was desperate to feel him over her, inside her. As her head turned, her lips seeking his, she couldn’t stop the mewling little cry of need that fell from her lips.
But it got results. It got his hands gripping the hem of her shirt to pull it over her breasts before he tore free of her kiss to jerk it over her head.
His shirt went next, courtesy of her hands gripping the edges and pulling, jerking, tearing the buttons free and leaving the material hanging on his broad chest.
“Fierce little vixen, eh?” It was a statement. The tone was an erotic thrill of desire that pierced her womb.
“Very fierce.” She panted, moving back as her fingers went to the snap of her jeans and she toed her sneakers from her feet. “Get naked, Kell. Now.”
Naked came quickly. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching as she released her jeans and began pushing them over her legs.
His boots were untied and jerked from his feet in seconds.
As her jeans passed the lace of her panties he was pushing his over his hips, disposing of them and his underwear and socks in one fell swoop.
Before her own jeans passed her ankles he was lifting her to him, bearing her to the bed and fighting her for the supremacy of being on top as their lips came together once again.
Short little cries fell from Emily’s lips as he used his larger, stronger body to hold her in place, sprawling between her thighs, his hands anchoring her wrists to the mattress as his lips ravished hers.
This wasn’t the previous, slow, determined seduction that Kell had employed each time he touched her. As though each touch had to be controlled, each kiss calculated.
There was nothing calculated here. This was pure male hunger.
“You’ll do as I say.” He suddenly tore his lips from hers, his voice ragged, determined. “Promise me, Emily. You’ll follow me. Swear it to me.”
Her head thrashed on the bed.
“I can’t lose you. Not you, Em,” he groaned then. “I can’t live through it again. Sweet baby. Don’t you leave me.”
Before she could question him, before she could do more than glimpse the pain burning in his eyes and feel it echoing in her heart, his lips were moving along her collarbone, then to the mounds of her breasts rising above the lace of her bra.
“Sweet ecstasy framed by silken lace,” he groaned as he leaned back to stare down at her, his gaze going to the hard points of her nipples beneath the lace. “Have I mentioned, darlin’, how much I love those pretty breasts, those sweet little nipples?”
“Kell—” She protested the pain raging in his expression.
“I look at you, and I see peace. A slice of heaven.” He released her wrists, his fingers moving between her breasts to the clip that held the lace cups secure.
His face was filled with hunger, and not just sexual. She could feel it. See it. A need that transcended sex and moved into the soul.
As the cups of her bra slid free of her flesh, his lashes drifted lower, the green of his eyes glittered behind thick black lashes.
“I need to love you,” he whispered then. “Soft candlelight. No danger. No worry. Just me and you.”
“You can have that—now.” Her breathing hitched as the backs of his fingers smoothed over one tight nipple. “I don’t need candles, Kell. I just need you.”
“I know why your father needs to protect you.” He bent to her again, his lips feathering above her nipple. “You touch everyone, Emily. You
touch a father’s heart. A stranger’s loyalty, and the soul I never knew I had. You touch it, and you remind us of all the innocence we’ve lost in the world.”
Emily shook her head. “I’m not innocence, Kell. I’m just a woman.”
“Sweet innocence,” he said, denying her words. “So pure and bright. Like a living flame.” His head lifted, his gaze piercing hers with a sense of desperation she couldn’t describe. “Keep me warm, just like this, always.”
She had to touch him. Her hands lifted to his face, her thumbs moving over his lips as her fingers framed his cheeks. The feel of the rough, day-old growth of beard that had reappeared since he had shaved early that morning prickled her palms. His lips moved against her thumbs, kissing them, his tongue stroking over them.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
“Always be here, Emily.”
“For as long as you’ll let me.”
She would be with him forever, if he stayed. If he loved. As she loved.
She loved him. She had known it was coming. She had felt it building, but had tried to convince herself she could hold back.
There was no holding it back. It already had her by the heart and was moving slowly, irrevocably, into her soul.
The pain eased slowly from his eyes to be replaced by a fierce, untamed emotion. Untamed and unquenchable. She could see it, clear to his soul, as her breath caught.
“You’re mine,” he told her then, his voice strong, rough. “Mine, Emily.”
His hips moved between her thighs, the heavy length of his erection pressing against the thin panel of lace that covered her pussy.
“Yours,” she gasped. She had no argument with that. She would always belong to him. She would always need him, ache for him.
She had dreamed of him for years. A bad boy. Mocking. Rough. Strong and determined. Kell was that and more.
A thin, low cry came from her lips as his head descended once again, his lips covering a sensitive nipple and drawing it into his mouth as his hand moved to the elastic band of her panties.
As she arched, pushing her nipple deeper into the heated grip his lips had on it, she felt the band tear. The lace disintegrated beneath the tug he gave it. The other side was treated to the same determined effort, leaving her panties in shreds around her, but the heated length of his cock now slid against the slick folds of her pussy.
“Kell. Oh God. I don’t know if I can stand it.” The act of having her clothes torn from her body was nearly more than she could bear.
She was ready to come now. Just as she had been the day he had ripped the seam of the Capris to bury his lips between her thighs.
He was wicked and unpredictable. Sensual and sexual. He was heating her to the point that she could feel the flames whipping through her body and searing her nerve endings.
“Ahh, that’s more like it,” he drawled, his hips shifting, dragging his erection over the folds it was pressed against.
Emily moaned at the feeling of the hard, throbbing flesh against her clit, caressing it, stroking across it.
“God! The feel of you.” His head lifted from her breast, his eyes darkening as he shifted, drawing back to sit on his knees and stare down at her with raging need.
The need raged inside Emily as well. She had no idea how to control it, how to do anything but reach for him.
Her hands slid from his chest to his hard abs, her nails scraping against his flesh as she watched the muscles beneath it flex and ripple.
Lower, his cock pressed between her thighs, rising above her mound, the hard flesh glistening with her juices as a creamy bead of precum welled at the tip of the wide crest.
“Why are you waiting?” she asked breathlessly.
He was breathing harshly, his hands gripping her thighs, his fingers clenching and unclenching restlessly in her flesh.
“Condom.” The word was pushed between clenched teeth. “I didn’t bring a condom in with me.”
“At all?” Her lips parted in distress.
“In my room.” He breathed in slowly, carefully. “I left them in my bag. In my room. Your butler put my bag in my room.”
Condoms. God, she hated the thought of a condom, the thought of anything between his flesh and hers. But the thought of the consequences had her moving, searching.
She ignored his frustrated growl as she moved back, forcing his flesh from hers as she turned to her side and reached for the drawer at her bedside table.
Her hand fumbled as she felt his palm pat the cheek of her rear heavily. The little slap had her jerking, had stars exploding before her eyes before she could reach inside the drawer, scrambling for the little foil packs she had thrown in there on her last visit home. A girl needed to be prepared.
There. She gripped one, only to collapse against the bed as she felt his lips on her rear, where his hand had landed, smoothing over her skin as his tongue licked a fiery damp blaze across the flesh.
She lay on her side, one leg bent, the other stretched out on the mattress. His hand caressed up that leg, his fingers moving higher, to her thigh, then to the rich center of her body.
“The sweetest pussy in the world,” he whispered hoarsely as his fingers skimmed over the swollen flesh and his body shifted. “Give me that fucking condom, Emily, or we’re going to make more than a little love here.”
Her womb clenched at the sound of his voice. It was tighter, his accent thicker, and his cock was nudging at her as he lifted her thigh to allow the hardened flesh to part the wet folds of her pussy.
Shaking, she dug her head into the pillow at the feel of his cock pressing against her and forced her hand back, holding the foil pack out to him.
“I’m going to spank you for having condoms on hand. Remind me to do that.” He took it quickly, there was the sound of the packet ripping, and seconds later, she felt him moving, his erection retreating.
“I wanted to be a Girl Scout,” she moaned. “Always prepared.”
“That’s Boy Scouts,” he growled, pressing her thighs as she lay on her side.
“Like this.” He smoothed his hand down her flank. “I’m going to take you like this, Emily. You’ll feel me deeper, thicker. Like flames pleasuring you.”
He lifted her thigh, holding it against his own until he came down to her, covering her, his cock sliding against her as she felt his breath against her ear.
“Feel me, sugar,” he whispered at her ear as he began to press forward. “Feel me take you. All the way to your soul, Emily. Feel me take you.”
The fingers of one large hand laced themselves with her smaller one as she felt the penetration begin. She hadn’t expected it to be easy. She had expected pain. She hadn’t expected a lot of pleasure the first time.
But it was there. The heavy stretching sensation, a burning, pulling pleasure that stole her breath as he worked the crest of his erection in and out, opening her slowly.
She could feel his cock throbbing. The head was so thick, so heavy inside her, stretching the tender tissue as explosions of color ruptured behind her closed lashes.
She tried to move beneath him, to press closer. She wanted it done. She wanted to be full of him, possessed by him.
“Easy, little one,” he whispered roughly at her ear. “Slow and easy.”
Slow and easy? He wanted this slow and easy?
“You’ll kill me waiting,” she cried out breathlessly. “You’ve teased me to death, Kell. I can’t take more.”
She tightened her muscles on him, heard his ragged groan, and moaned in rising ecstasy.
She tightened again, trying to draw him deeper, to force him into taking her. Waiting wasn’t what she wanted.
Fourteen
KELL COULD FEEL THE SWEAT beading on his forehead, dampening his hair and shoulders and doing little to cool the fire raging in his body.
God, she was hot. Her pussy was melting around him, heating him, drawing him deeper inside, and searing his mind. He had never known this much pleasure with another woman. He had never felt th
e blinding heat that consumed him, the loss of control that had him shaking with the need to plunge forcibly into her.
She was so tight. The obstruction of her innocence was a slapping reminder that he could hurt her so easily.
But she was wild beneath him. Despite the position he had her in, on her side, as he braced himself above her, his cock penetrating her from behind as he bent her leg closer into her flexing stomach.
“Kell.” Her arm twined around his as he braced himself on the mattress beside her. “Please. Take me now.”
He was fighting to breathe, feeling her pussy like a snug, velvet fist around the sensitive head of his dick.
“So slick and wet.” He bent his head until it rested at her shoulder, his tongue lapping at the sweat-dampened flesh as he retreated once again.
“If you don’t fuck me I’m going to shoot you with your own gun,” she cried out harshly.
The words. Sweet mercy. The word “fuck” coming out of her mouth was more than he could bear. His hips bunched, his knees digging into the mattress as his teeth clamped over her shoulder, and he drove home.
Emily screamed. His name. Screamed for mercy and from the sheer electric rapture that drove up her spine and exploded in her head.
There was pain, but it blended with the pleasure, drawing her on a rack of such blinding sensation that she couldn’t make sense of it.
It went beyond pleasure. It went beyond anything she could have expected. The delicate muscles of her pussy clenched and rippled around him, stretched tight, exposing hidden nerve endings that rioted with the feel of his cock throbbing against them.
Kell’s teeth were still locked in her shoulder, another erotic sensation as his harsh breathing sounded behind her. He was holding himself still, frozen; the only motion from his body was the flexing of his abdomen at her hip, the throb of his cock buried inside her, and his harsh breathing.
He was huge inside her. Heavy. Hot. She shifted beneath him, trying to move, to add to the sensations rippling through her body. She was so close to orgasm that it was almost agonizing to wait.