Under Pressure

by Zoë Normandie

  As she drew her hands up and down his cock, teasing him to no end, he watched her bouncing tits press together. That was the type of shit that would make him lose control. Not able to take it anymore, he drew his cock upward toward her lips, and she sucked in his throbbing cockhead enthusiastically, like he knew she would. She caressed and teased his shaft, threatening to make him come then and there, but he kept it together. He didn’t want to disappoint her on their last night together.

  It seemed they had different playbooks, because as he tried to pull away, she drew his cock deeper into her mouth, taking it to the back of her throat. His thick, engorged manhood was at its maximum size, choking her as she was determined to make him come, determined to win. He realized it was turning into a power game, a symbol of their whole dynamic.

  She wanted him to come in her mouth.

  And, damn, he wanted to.

  But he was always in charge—and he always had to win.

  Pulling out of her mouth, as hard as it was, he stared at the beauty before him. She was too fucking perfect.

  “Turn around,” he ordered, cold.

  “No,” she refuted, grabbing at his cock again.

  He pulled even farther away, determined as hell.

  “Come back,” she pleaded, watching him reach into his side table.

  And so he did—but with a rope in hand. She bit her lip—a sexy move that always sent him over the edge. He held on to his throbbing, aching cock, needing release from her. She sat in front of him, leaning in to take his manhood in her mouth again.

  “I told you to turn around,” he growled low and commanding as he leaned down, kissing her lips.

  She stirred under his touch as he ran his finger up her wet pussy. She was fucking ready.

  “Face down, ass up.” In one motion, he tossed her onto the mattress. “You know the drill.”

  Just as quick, even though she was fighting him, he tied her hands behind her back, maybe a little too tightly, but he didn’t want her to forget. Leaning over the bed, he had her feet touch the ground—and her ass met his pulsing cock.

  “I’ll make you trust me.” He opened her legs with his hands, feeling the wet entrance to her pussy.

  She moaned as he touched her, beyond aroused. Good, he thought—it was mutual. Pressing his cockhead against her throbbing opening, all he wanted to do was thrust up fast and hard and fuck the shit out of her. But he had to be patient. He had to wait.

  “Start by making me not hate you,” she implored, pressing her ass backward into him.

  He felt a wicked smile spread as he held her hips still, teasing her opening with his cock. She was going to regret breaking in.

  “You don’t really hate me,” he said, pushing his cock one inch into her.

  Her writhing body told him she was in agony, needing his full length. Her moans confirmed it.

  Sadistic, he held firm, continuing, “Tell me the truth.”

  Keeping his movement stilled, he let his thickened member fill her entry, toying with her. Panting, she seemingly needed release as much as he did.

  “Say it, Kendra.” He let his cock slip one more inch inside her—the perfect tease.

  Finally, she cried out in torment, “I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “God!” Kendra prayed as she took the entire length of Delta’s rock-hard cock inside her pussy.

  It was too good to be right.

  Her confession had unlocked his full appetite for her. He clutched her waist with one hand and her hips with the other, as he pumped his cock harder and harder into her. He rocked her like he was splitting her in half, and his cock was big enough to make her feel that way. He drove her toward orgasm in such a familiar way, pressure mounting within moments of him thrusting into her.

  She bucked her hips as her pussy got wetter and wetter, held down by his powerful grip, totally at his mercy with her hands tied behind her back. Pain shot up her waist as his hold intensified, but she liked it. He wasn’t being gentle, and she didn’t want him to be. He was giving her bruises—she had no doubt—but a little part of her loved the idea of marks on her body to prove it had happened. She already knew there were some dark ones developing on her wrists from where he’d so tightly bound her.

  “You can take a fucking cock.” He groaned. “But that’s not the only reason why I love you—”

  He stopped mid-sentence, though her mind refused to register it.

  Her whole consciousness was engulfed by the moment—and the things she shouldn’t be doing. Her legs wide open and exposed, he filled every inch of her in ways she didn’t know she could be. An orgasm mounted and suddenly it rushed up and down her body, sending her over the edge.

  “God, I love your cock,” she cried out at the height of it, a little muffled by the sheets against her face.

  He growled in reply, gripping her hips so hard that she thought the skin would break. Harder and faster, he fucked her while her cum dripped down her legs, the aching in her pussy deepening.

  “What else do you love?” he probed, pushing her tied wrists up until she shrieked.

  It was a welcome distraction. She didn’t want to answer, afraid of what she would say. The casual throwing around of the word love was stirring discomfort in her. She bit her lip, refusing to let anything out other than a moan. In her mind, he was still just a player who was going to play her—a man not to be trusted. And, unfortunately, a man she desperately needed every inch of.

  Pumping his manhood into her, Delta seemed not to mind her lack of reply, perhaps chalking it up to the heat of the moment. He grunted instead about how much he loved feeling her climax. She’d never heard the man use the word ‘love’—ever—let alone a handful of times in one setting. As he pumped into her, something emotional rose in her chest. Maybe, just maybe.

  She could tell he was close to the edge, his cock beyond rock hard. And damn good—she was losing her mind. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Her nipples scraped against the bed as he rocked her back and forth, driving in and out of her. She twisted as the intensity grew almost unbearable. Everything in her body was screaming.

  He did something amazing to her.

  Another wave of mind-blowing sensation rushed her pussy, her back arching as it passed. For some reason, Delta paused, seeming to just enjoy watching her come down from the high. He lunged forth, yanked her up and flipped her around to face him. Deftly, he untied her hands behind her back, tossing the now-unneeded rope aside. He thumped down on the bed, sitting for the first time. Drawing her down to straddle his lap, he promptly guided his throbbing erection back into her.

  She stirred as he began to rock her back and forth again, almost unable to bear how intimate this new position was. It was a first time like this for them, and it awakened intense and unexplored feelings in her. Now, she was staring into his eyes—intense and passionate. With untied wrists, she explored his muscled shoulders and inked biceps, adoring each hard curve. Her touch seemed to be welcome, and that look in his eye, the hardness in his jaw, told her he was moments away from climax.

  She wanted to take his seed inside her. She wanted every last drop. The thought of it turned her on, buckling her spine as she ground hard over him—fucking his cock up into a pussy that had already been fucked hard enough.

  “Matteo,” she screamed out as things got too crazy.

  He grinned in response, quickening his pace.

  “It’s only ever just been you,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

  He reached up to her jaw, planting a wet, open kiss on her mouth, biting her lip as he pulled back. Then he just held her face, grimacing as he came damn hard, unloading inside her. Releasing all the tension in his body and face, he gasped as his eyes softened. He caressed her cheek and neither of them seemed inclined to move. Her mind was blank and her body was sated, if not paralyzed. Breathing heavily, he hugged her into him, kissing her cheek and forehead. She inhaled his scent—sweat and masculinity. />
  Finally, he collapsed, pulling her into his bed. As she fell into him, he kissed her again, perhaps more affectionate than ever before. Grinning at her through narrowing eyes, it was clear that he was run ragged.

  She traced down his cheek toward his tattooed chest and outlined a deep scar under his collarbone. His body had been through a lot. She guessed most of it was from war. She had never really given a lot of thought to just how difficult it would be to live the life of a SEAL—LA to Iraq, dinners out to shoot-outs, here one day, gone the next.

  “Am I going to wake up alone?” she whispered, noticing his breathing steady as he held her.

  He let out a soft laugh, seemingly amused. “No.”

  “Really, don’t leave.” She touched the scar on his cheek again, caressing him. “Don’t leave me again.”

  He drifted off as he nodded in agreement. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

  With his eyes closed, she studied him. In his sleeping form, he was vulnerable, as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him. And there was something different about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe it was the absence of his calculating eyes or his intimidating glare. She didn’t know. It gave her the chance to see him for what he really was.

  A man who made her feel.

  As she closed her eyes, her mind too exhausted to push on, something inside her became aware of something different growing between them for the first time. She smiled as he dropped his hand down her body. Finding her arm, he curled his fingers around hers, holding her hand. All she could think of was their son and that maybe he’d feel his father holding him one day soon, too. The welcome fantasy of the three of them together relaxed her, allowing sleep to overtake her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kendra wasn’t sure what time it was or how long it had been when she was startled awake by a body violently spasming beside her. Snapping open her eyes, alarmed, she sat up and reached out for Delta on the bed beside her, but quickly stopped herself as she observed him. He didn’t seem lucid, and his body was tensed. He shivered while he grumbled something, sounding urgent.

  She pulled back, trying not to freak out. It looked like he was having a night terror. She felt like she was invading his space, witnessing something he’d never want her to see. She flitted her eyes back and forth, watching him, hoping he’d stop—but he didn’t. In fact, it just got worse. Delta grew louder, like he was shouting for something, but she couldn’t figure it out. Unnerved, she felt powerless watching his body coil, like he was in real pain. And just as sudden as the terror had started, it stopped, his body becoming heavy and still in the bed, like nothing had ever happened.

  Stunned, Kendra lay awake beside him, waiting for him to fall back into a more peaceful sleep. There was so much more to him than he’d ever tell her, and her mind wandered to the glove and the results she still sought. Whatever good feelings sex had given her were replaced by a strange anxiety that threatened to keep her awake for the rest of the night, thinking about her son and what the hell she was doing. Lucky for her, exhaustion finally won out once more, and she drifted into the lightest sleep, almost sleeping with one eye open, never knowing what would be next with him.

  Not long enough later, Kendra woke to the sound of Delta stirring in bed beside her. She snapped her eyes open, thinking he was leaving her. As she came to her senses in the early rays of morning, he grinned at her and pulled her in close to him, planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

  “Morning.”

  The dark circles under his eyes did not look like a man who’d caught up on sleep at all, and for the first time, she understood part of why that was. She squinted at the clock—barely seven in the morning. They needed more rest, but she wasn’t sure she was going to get it, knowing she had to get back home sooner rather than later for reasons she wasn’t prepared to tell him. Her nerves already surging under his gaze, he brushed her stray blonde hairs out of her face.

  “Sleep well?” he asked, reaching down her back to massage her. He shook his head, showing his disbelief. “You look too damn good for someone who just woke up. Tell me your secrets.”

  She froze at his words but released as he laughed it off.

  “Thanks,” she replied, a shy little smile forming on her lips.

  His casual nature softened her up as he kneaded the tension out of her body with the roughest, warmest hands she’d ever felt. The way he touched her was nothing short of erotic. She craned her neck as he massaged, his selfless hands working even harder, making her feel too amazing for that early in the morning.

  He pulled her in close once again, kissing her. “I don’t believe you are here. This must be a trick.”

  And as he held her, something in her mind questioned if maybe she’d overreacted about the girl at the bar. It wasn’t like she had been upfront with what she’d held back from him.

  Delta flipped to his side, stretching his arms above his head, and crawled out of bed, giving her a full view of his naked ass. It was an ass of gods. Damn. Sucking in breath, she lost it when he turned back to her, reaching up to smooth back his dark blond hair. His olive Italian skin was perfect in the morning sun, and he was a sculpted statue of muscle. The scars, gashes and bruises only added to his aesthetic of a warrior. But what struck her was that so many of them weren’t healed and too fresh to make sense.

  “What are you doing to yourself?” she quizzed as she took in the scars decorating him.

  “That…we can talk about after coffee.” He tapped the doorframe before making for the washroom across the hall.

  “Matteo, I want to know everything,” she reiterated, calling after him.

  It irked her that he wasn’t immediately upfront about it, but it was hard to be mad at a man who was showering her with adoration. It didn’t take long for her to throw on his old T-shirt and follow the scent of coffee.

  Once she had a steaming cup in hand, sitting on his soft gray couch, she started to realize that it was beginning to feel too much like a dream. Hugging the handmade cappuccino that he’d just made her, watching him in the kitchen, she inhaled the rising steam. It smells amazing, she thought, as she brought the fresh coffee to her lips. And it tasted even better. Surely a dream couldn’t give her such sensations.

  “This must be a real Italian coffee,” Kendra commented as Delta waltzed back into the room, plunking himself down beside her, holding his own steaming cup.

  “I learned from the best.”

  The two of them, side by side, her in his crumpled T-shirts was a picture she’d never thought she’d see. Falling into him, he grinned at her, like they were an old couple enjoying their usual routine. He squeezed her leg, toying with her inner thigh, causing her legs to part naturally in response, as if she hadn’t been fucked enough yet.

  “My dad was serious about espresso and making it right. He’d disown me if I ever bought one of those puck machines.”

  “You are a man of hidden talents,” she offered, biting her lip as she shot him a look.

  She enjoyed the grooves at the edges of his eyes when he smiled naturally. And he seemed more than relaxed after all that mind-blowing sex, even with the lack of sleep and the obvious nightmares. The laughter in his eyes warmed her heart, especially so seeing him there in the morning light in his own home. It was a side of Matteo Valente she’d never seen before. Affectionately, his hand ran across her thigh.

  “You look good on my couch. I could get used to this.”

  “Me too.”

  Leaning back, he put his other arm around her, pulling her in. She breathed in slowly, knowing that that was her moment. There would never be a better time.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, barely audible.

  “For what?”

  “For saving me last night. Hunter’s going to have a real nice black eye this morning—” she started, but he waved her off.

  “It was nothing.”

  “It was something”—she turned to him—“to me.”

  “Anytime.” He nodded,
his tone serious.

  She took in a deep breath, steering the conversation. “It’s been a bit of a ride.”

  “It has been.” He remained still, stoic.

  “I’m a little stunned to be here, on your couch,” she admitted, swirling the remaining coffee in the cup, “after everything.”

  “Honestly, I am, too.”

  She pursed her lips to speak, but pivoted and said something else, something lighter.

  “We’ve got a lot to catch up on, I think.” She nudged into him, watching his reaction.

  He let his lip curl into a grin, but it didn’t feel as natural. He remained silent, studying her, so she continued.

  “Things are starting to feel different,” she started, her voice getting pinched, “between us.”

  He shifted, his demeanor changing. His gaze slipped, turning his head to the kitchen.

  “Delta.”

  “Yeah.” He gazed back.

  Everything she wanted to say rushed to the tip of her tongue, but she just held it there, watching him, needing him to ask her to say it. She paused, waiting. He watched her, saying nothing. She bit her lip again, not knowing how to start a serious conversation—a thing she truly struggled with, especially with him.

  “What is it?” He sipped his coffee, cool but knowing.

  Shaking her head slightly, she dismissed herself. “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.”

  She caught that same encouragement in his eyes that had been there once before. There was the look that made her feel like she could do anything—climb a rope obstacle, rappel off a tower. She had to tell him. She opened her mouth to begin, but it didn’t matter. She was saved by a knock at the very side door that she’d broken into the night prior.

  Pulling her in, Delta kissed her hair once more and stood, dropping his espresso cup on the kitchen island as he strode to the door. Kendra followed, a little behind, curious to learn more about him. She had so many presumptions and was finding it impossible to parse between what was real and what was the façade.