“You’ll get the sheets wet,” she said, feeling breathless.
“You took the only towel.”
“Oh.” Watching him use the damp towel to wipe away the water was surprisingly erotic. Her tongue licked her bottom lip as she imagined her own hands brushing away the droplets as he swiped his belly and lower.
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
She smiled and tossed back the sheet. “The bed’s tiny. Your feet will hang over the end.”
“Let me worry about that,” he said, draping the towel again, and then walking to stand directly in front of her.
Her gaze filled with hard abdomen, muscled thighs, and a thick, pulsing cock. Following her instincts, she reached out and traced his length with a finger, from soft cap, down his veined, reddened shaft, to his balls. And then she pulled herself upright, her thighs opening as she sat on the side of the low mattress and bent toward him. She rubbed her cheek along his length, letting her eyelashes fall to shield her expression. Couldn’t have his ego grow even bigger than it already was, no doubt. He knew she thought he was gorgeous.
And he already saw too much. Her eagerness was there in her touch as she cupped his balls, rolling them in her palm, tugging them to test their heavy weight. Turning her head, she pressed her lips against his shaft and trailed up and down, her tongue sneaking out to wet him, her awe at his length and girth evident in her shortened, excited breaths.
Thick fingers thrust through her wet hair, guiding her upward until she stretched to reach the satiny cap. With her tongue, she swirled over him, loving the increased tension of his fingers digging into her scalp.
Angel centered her and widened his stance, lowering the height of his cock.
Without further encouragement, Maya opened her mouth and accepted his gentle thrust. His cock slid across her tongue and the roof of her mouth, so large she had to widen her jaws to take him. With her lips protecting her teeth, she accepted his thrust all the way to the back of her throat, before she pulled backward, then sank again.
His hands tightened, holding her head still, and he took over, fucking her mouth with slow pulses while she concentrated on loving him with her tongue and sucking around him to ensure he never wanted to leave her mouth.
But at last, he pushed her back. His glance went to her breasts.
Her own gaze dropped. Her nipples were darkened, the tips distended. And they ached.
When he flicked a finger against one, her mouth dropped open.
“God, again.” The next flick was harder, stinging, but she shivered and quickly moved back on the mattress, lying down, and opening her legs—her unspoken plea apparent in her movements. Her chest shivered with her short, panting breaths. She splayed her legs, letting him see the rich thick cream glistening along her slit.
Holding her gaze, he knelt on the mattress, and the springs groaned ominously.
Her lips quirked up at the corners.
His eyes narrowed, and he crawled over her, widening her legs with gentle shoves from his knees. When he came over her, he nudged her sex once, found her entrance and pushed deep, in a single, relentless thrust.
She sighed, bringing up her knees to hug his hips. “That’s nice.”
“The last time I was here,” he said with a stir of his hips, “I was rough.”
“Did you hear a single complaint?” Her fingers trailed over his tight shoulder muscles.
Eyes still dark and brooding, his mouth stretched. “Not a one.”
With her channel deliciously full, she raked his chest with her nails. “What does a girl have to do to get what she wants?”
He leaned on one arm and grasped her hand, sliding it down between them. He lifted his belly and pushed her hand past the thick column stretching her pussy, straight to his balls.
Her arm stretched, fingers gently extending to wrap around his balls. She gave them a gentle squeeze and a tug. “This?”
A hiss sounded then his eyes closed. His chest expanded, the crisp curling hairs cloaking it rasping her breasts. “Again.”
Her pussy clenched around him, tighter than the fingers clutching his balls. She extended her middle finger and rubbed the sensitive skin just behind his scrotum. “This?”
“Witch,” he breathed. When she scratched him there, he pulled her hand away and let his hips drop.
A single, curling thrust pushed his cock deeper inside her.
“It’s about to get rough again.”
Maya thrilled to the hoarseness in his voice. She moved her thighs higher, increasing the tilt of her hips, then slid her hands up his chest, along his neck to scratch through his thick hair. “I’m ready.”
“Don’t think you are,” he said, and braced his heavy body on his arms, rising up. He began to stroke inside her, nothing gentle about his sure, targeted thrusts. His rhythm was steady, his breaths unhurried.
But he was chopping hers apart because her arousal spiked higher with each hard stroke. While she began to writhe, he watched her with his keen, sharp gaze. Maya was coming apart. The higher toward the peak he drove her, the more unsettled and vulnerable she grew. Every emotion was pushed to the surface—arousal in the heat blossoming on her cheeks, fear of what he was becoming to her welling in her eyes.
She’d never been this way with a man. Had always managed to keep things light and fun, but with Angel, she was desperate for this to mean something to him, at least as much it meant to her.
What exactly that something was made her most afraid. She shut her eyes and felt the tears rim her closed lids. Afraid he’d slow, or worse stop, she reached down and scored his ass with her nails.
Angel shifted above her, and she blinked her eyes open. He scooped her knees into the corners of his arms and knelt, lifting her bottom from the bed as he pumped back and forth inside her, his body too far away for her to hold him. Not far enough away she couldn’t see the narrowing of his eyes and the fierce tautness of his jaw as he powered into her.
The man was a machine. A fucking machine. Hips pistoning. The thick muscles of his arms and belly tensing each time he thrust forward—faster, sharper—until sweat gleamed on his skin. And on hers.
Because she needed comfort toward the end, she smoothed her hands over own belly then upward, and cupped her breasts, tugging the tips.
The glint in his smoky green eyes encouraged her, and she got rougher with herself, pinching hard and pulling until they stung. Her pussy was so wet the lewd, moist sounds grew louder as he churned inside her.
Pausing, Angel pulled back his arms and smoothed his hands up the back of her thighs, straightening her knees. Then he folded them over his shoulders as he leaned slightly forward.
She crossed her ankles behind his neck as he palmed her ass and resumed his strokes, this time deeper, harder.
Her pussy was swollen and hot, squeezing tighter around him. Each forward thrust screwed through tender tissue so hot from friction she felt as though she were on fire. “Angel... please, please.”
“Play with your clit, baby,” he said, his thrusts so deep now his balls slapped against her ass. “Come for me now.”
Sure the added friction would be too much to bear, she shook her head.
“Do it, Maya. Touch yourself. Let me watch.” He turned his head and kissed the side of her calf, and stroked faster still. Then he glanced down between their bodies.
Slowly, she reached between then, spread the top of her stretched pussy lips, and bared her turgid clit. Just exposing it to the chilled air had her sucking in a breath. She licked her forefinger and tentatively gave the hard, wet knot a rub. Breath hissed between her teeth. “The sensation’s too much.”
“Let me see, or I swear, I’ll stop.”
Anger spiked. She gave him a scowl and rubbed her clit again, circling, each drag tightening her pussy around him until he was the one gasping.
Fighting to regain his rhythm, he jerked inside her. “Fuck, baby. You’re ringing my dick.”
Although very nearly there, Maya grinned
, and this time, squeezed her inner muscles deliberately. Her finger glided on silky honey. Her eyelids grew heavier, weighted. Her jaw slowly relaxed. “I’m right there, Angel. Oh, God...”
Chapter 7
Angel’s movements halted. His cock pulled free.
Panting, Maya’s eyes shot open. “No,” she cried out, her orgasm arrested at the very edge.
He untangled her legs from around his neck and quickly flipped her to her belly. Before she could get her knees beneath her, he was lifting her bottom by her hips, his hard fingers digging into her skin. One thrust and he was back inside.
“Bastard,” she cried out, secretly thrilled at being manhandled once again.
“You teased.” He grunted, pounding faster. “Blame yourself.”
Wondering just how far she could push him, she pretended to struggle, trying to crawl out from under him, but he quickly bent over, snaked an arm around her waist, and continued to pound.
Maya’s head sank to the bed, and she rubbed her hot face on the cool sheets. What he was doing, fucking her faster and faster, not only had the bed squeaking, but her core tightening like a spring. She eased open her knees, widening them, inviting the bang of his balls, the deepening of his hard, targeted thrusts.
She snuck a hand between her legs and touched her clit, so swollen the thin membrane usually cloaking it had completely receded. The first touch was electric. “Angel,” she sobbed.
Angel nipped her shoulder and ground his hips against her, pushing his cock an inch deeper, tunneling into her. They were both covered in a sheen of sweat, both breathing hard. His heart thundered against her back, and her own pounded in her ears. Another toggle of her slippery finger and a shard of explosive pleasure shot through her. Her breath caught on a jagged cry.
The hard arm anchoring her against his body eased. His hand covered hers between her legs. She slid her fingers away and bunched the sheets in her fists.
His hips churned against hers again; his fingers rubbed her sensitive knot. With each rotation, her body jerked. Her sobs deepened to moans that came, one right after the other. Maya writhed against him, until at last, she hurtled over the edge.
With a cry, she went rigid and threw back her head. His lips nuzzled her cheek, nibbled her ear, and still, he didn’t stop moving, drawing out her orgasm until it was a sensual torture.
At last, he gave a final gasping groan and come jetted inside her, warm spurts that soothed her ravaged channel, as stroke by stroke he slowed.
When the storm passed, they clung together, breaths fractured, bodies shuddering.
Maya reached back and patted his thigh—the full extent of the appreciation she could show because she was utterly spent. She’d thought she’d had rigorous lovers in the past, but Angel had managed to blow her mind.
His large hands gentled. He turned her on her side, then lay down behind her, spooning their bodies together. A rough palm glided from shoulder to elbow.
She shifted, lifting her head to rest on a muscled bicep. Comforting, all those muscles, she thought, then yawned.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
His voice was so smooth, she knew he wasn’t really concerned. Maybe he wanted a little praise. “Do you mean did you leave bruises? Probably.” She snuggled closer to his chest. “If I tell you that was the hottest sex I’ve ever had, will my words go to your head?” His chest shook against her, and she grinned, happy to hear him laugh. She didn’t imagine he did a lot of that.
“You should rest,” he said, his deep voice gruff.
“There ya go again. Ordering me around.” But she yawned, spoiling the complaint. She wished she could keep her eyes open, because she didn’t want to miss a minute of her time with Angel. The thought of parting from him, which inevitably she’d have to, dampened her mood. “Guess you’re right.”
A kiss landed on her shoulder, his hand continued easing up and down her arm, but the large body resting against her never relaxed. He’d keep watch over her while she slept. The thought was comforting, but also disturbing. She hoped she didn’t drool on his arm.
Angel waited until her breathing deepened, and she lay quietly snoring. Only then, did he gently shift away and leave the bed.
Dressed in just his cargo pants, he roamed the house, checking the booby traps he’d laid with thin wire at the front and back doors, checking windows, lifting curtains to gaze out onto the street. He detected no movement. No interest at all in the fact the house was now occupied. He hoped that meant Cowboy had kept the neighbors accustomed to seeing people move in and out.
He sank on the lumpy sofa, not ready to rejoin Maya on the bed, because horny bastard that he was, he was already hard again. If he got close enough to smell the sex on her skin, he’d be all over her, and he’d seen how exhausted she was.
The afternoon sun illuminated dust motes floating in the air, and he winced at the squalor of the house. He doubted she’d ever been in a place like this before. When a spider crept across the floor in front of him, he stomped on it. “Yeah, you know how to show a girl a good time.”
Although she’d been game, and hadn’t gone into hysterics eyeing the murky water, stained bathtub, or flimsy bed, he knew she wasn’t accustomed to roughing it. Thoughts of how he might make it up to her flitted through his mind, but he doubted once they made it out of this situation, she’d ever want to see him again.
What a damn mess.
Floorboards squeaked as footsteps padded near. He glanced to the side to find Maya standing there, her slim figure engulfed in a large T-shirt. Her hair was mussed. One side of her face was indented with marks from where she’d rested her cheek against the sheets. In his eyes, she’d never looked sexier.
Angel held out his hand and she gave him hers, allowing him to pull her onto his lap where they sat together, her head resting on his shoulder. Her weight on his lap felt comfortable. He rubbed his cheek against her soft hair. “Thought I told you to sleep.”
“I did.”
“For about a minute.”
A shiver ran through her body. “I woke up and you were gone.”
And she’d been frightened. He could hear it in the smallness of her voice. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know.”
“We should be out of here by tomorrow.”
She pulled back and touched his face, sliding a finger along his jaw. “And then what?”
Angel swallowed. “I still have a job to do.”
Her eyes lost a little luster, and she sighed. “And I have to get back to Chicago. The agency.”
Had she been hoping he’d say something else? He wouldn’t lie or make promises he couldn’t keep. But when her gaze fell away, escaping his, his chest felt empty. Angel gathered her closer, pushing her head against his shoulder. Right now, he couldn’t stand to think about letting her go. Right now, she was here with him. “I won’t tell you I’ll see you again. We both know what this is.”
“Are you telling me this is just about the fact you saved my life, that this attraction is natural, but it won’t last?”
“Yeah.” Even as he said the word, he wanted to yank it back.
Her head shook, sliding against his jaw. “I know all about flings, catching a moment and enjoying it. I’ve been there and done that. But Angel…” She tilted back her head. “This isn’t that. I know what I feel.”
His heart thumped at her words. “Don’t.”
“Saying it doesn’t mean I expect a damn thing from you.”
But hearing it might change everything. And he couldn’t risk that. “I’m not done here. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take.”
Her gaze studied him. “I understand.” She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “What I want you to know is, for this night, I’m yours. Heart and body. Yours, Angel.”
Not what he’d expected to her say. An avowal of love would have caused his gut to knot. Yet, giving herself to him felt like so much more
than simply agreement to use her body. The promise was more of a commitment than he’d ever accepted or given to any other woman. This wasn’t just a hookup. It was a true connection, but then he’d known that from the moment he’d taken her against the shower wall. Maya Cordoba had gotten under his skin.
He cupped her chin and drew her face close, studying her features, reading her expression. Everything she thought, from day one, was there for him to see. Maya was a proud, intelligent woman, but was out of her element in so many ways. And yet, she was here. Her dark gaze locked with his, waiting for his response.
Angel knew he’d never find the words to satisfy her. She was a travel agent from Chicago. He was a DEA cop with a fucked-up mission to put back on track. But he didn’t want to douse whatever was burning in her eyes. Couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing her.
With a nudge from his finger against the corner of her jaw, he coaxed her closer. Her gaze didn’t leave his as he kissed her mouth, rubbing his lips over hers, a soft branding. But when he followed with a deeper, harder kiss, her eyelids fluttered downward. A moment later, he was as lost as she, because she’d made a little sound in the back of her throat that pleased him—a cross between a moan and a sigh—and he wanted more of them.
Gripping her waist, he turned and lifted her until she straddled his lap. He scraped the tee up her body and tossed it away, then stared down at the creamy skin he’d bared. If he’d been able to make his tongue work, he’d have told her she was beautiful. But he didn’t trust telling her anything, because he might confess so many other things he had no right to say.
Instead, his hands followed his gaze, bracketing the base of her throat, a thumb entering the hollow there to caress. At her swallow, he glided his hands outward, cupping the balls of her shoulders and pushing them gently to arch her back. The movement pushed forward her breasts, and he watched as the tips slowly hardened and the areolas puckered. His gut clenched.
Squeezing one shoulder, he palmed a breast, plumping the fleshy mound, then rubbing the tip.
Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance) Page 41