She was looking at him again as he knelt over her, her eyes glittering, and he knew she was close to crying. It made him hesitate.
“Do you want me to leave?”
She shook her head.
“Are you gonna be okay, baby?”
She nodded.
“You need me to give you some time?”
He didn’t know what she needed, but he knew that the look on her face was breaking his heart. Like she was shocked she could still feel pleasure or that anyone would want to give it to her.
Jesus, what a mind fuck it had to be when the person you married turned out not to be the person you thought they were.
“Take your pants off, Remy. I’d feel better if you were as naked as I am.”
“Honey, that’s not a problem at all, trust me.” He started to undo his belt, but she suddenly sat up, folding her knees under her, and reached for the strap.
“Let me.”
“All right.”
She flicked the belt open and then went for his button fly. It was sweet torture to have her hands brushing his hard cock through his underwear, but he managed to survive. When she got the last button undone, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his pec while shoving his jeans down his hips.
Remy hissed at the touch of her tongue on his skin. He threaded the fingers of his right hand into her hair and cupped her skull as she explored him.
“You’re so beautiful, Remy,” she said, her voice vibrating against muscle and bone. “So big and beautiful.”
She swirled her tongue around his nipple at the same time she wrapped a hand around his cock, and he hissed in a breath once more.
“Christina, dammit…”
“Fair’s fair.”
Before she could do any more damage to his control, he put his hands under her arms and picked her up, tossing her back on the bed and pouncing on her.
He caught her arms, ringing her wrists with one hand and pushing them above her head. If she’d shown the slightest ounce of hesitation or fear, he’d have let her go.
Instead, she hooked her toes in his jeans where they were lying around his knees and pushed them farther down. He kicked them off, and they disappeared over the side of the bed.
“I pray like fucking hell you have a condom in this place,” he growled as she arched her hips upward and his cock glided along the wet seam of her sex. He’d deliberately not put any in his pockets because he hadn’t been intending to do this with her yet.
Her eyelashes lowered a moment. “I bought a box the other day.”
Relief coursed through him. “That’s good, cher. Real good. But we’re not going to need them for a little while yet.”
He released her wrists and slipped down her body. She let her legs fall open as he settled between them. He studied the pretty folds of her pussy—the slick pink inner lips, the plump outer lips, the tight dark curls she’d trimmed into a triangle.
When he met her gaze, she was watching him with the tip of one index finger in her mouth. The pearls gleamed against her milky skin, and her breasts rose and fell a little quicker than usual.
Remy gave her a wicked grin. And then he did what he’d been trained to do—he stormed the gates and attacked with everything he had in his arsenal.
8
Christina had thought she knew what she was getting when she’d invited Remy into her bedroom. An orgasm or two, a romp in the sheets with a super sexy SEAL—she still didn’t understand how SEALs mixed with what her brother did since he was in the Army, but clearly they did—and the satisfaction of knowing she was still desirable.
What she hadn’t expected was how it was going to feel when he touched his tongue to her neglected flesh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had oral sex, but she remembered that it wasn’t something Ben seemed to enjoy.
Well, no shit, of course he hadn’t enjoyed it. It was a wonder he’d ever managed it at all.
But this, oh God, this was nothing like she’d ever had before. Remy Marchand spread her with his fingers and then licked her clitoris with the kind of skill that suggested he’d done a lot of this.
No, don’t think about that!
And really, it was impossible to think about anything except the way his tongue felt gliding over her. He nibbled and sucked and licked while she panted and grabbed handfuls of the covers in her fists. Every stroke of his tongue was torture—and revelation.
Oh, she hadn’t had nearly enough experience for this. She’d had lovers in college—well, okay, two. And then she’d had a couple of semiserious boyfriends when she’d moved to DC and gone to work at Girard Oil’s branch office here. And then there was Ben, which made a grand total of five.
Five lovers, and not one of them had ever made her feel quite the way she felt right now.
“Remy,” she gasped as her body tightened.
“Hang on, honey,” he murmured before spreading her open and curling his tongue around her clit again and again.
Christina saw stars that time. A wave of pleasure rippled outward from her sex, spread through her arms and legs, sizzled into her toes and fingers. She sucked in air, tangled her fingers into his hair, and held him against her as she rode his face to get precisely what she wanted.
He gave it to her. Every toe-curling, body-shattering moment until she was spent. Until she collapsed on the pillows and proceeded to feel embarrassed that she’d been so, well, forward.
Ladies weren’t forward. She could remember Granny saying that to her. Often.
But oh, how forward she’d been with Remy Marchand. Not just tonight but, well, all the time. So uncharacteristic of her—and yet it felt natural with him.
The sexy man in question crawled up her body, stopping to spend a little time on her nipples before arriving at eye level. He was grinning like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.
And her heart gave a strange lurch in her chest that surprised her.
“Feel better?”
She closed her eyes and stretched. “I’m so relaxed I could go to sleep right now.”
His fingers slid into her body, his thumb skating over her sensitive clit, and she nearly came unglued.
“Not that relaxed, I’m guessing.”
His eyes sparkled in the lamplight and she blinked. Lamplight? She turned her head, surprised the lamp was still on. Ben always wanted the lights out. And maybe she had too, come to think of it. But she’d been so into Remy that she hadn’t even considered the light.
“Okay, maybe not,” she conceded. “What’s next, Cage?”
It was his turn to blink. “You know my code name.”
Yes, she did. Because she’d listened to every snippet of conversation about Remy Marchand since meeting him a little over a week ago. “It’s not a secret. You guys call each other things that aren’t your names. Besides, yours is easy. Cage for Cajun, am I right?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’d be correct.”
“They call Matt Richie Rich. Which I’m sure you know. But it’s not very original, is it?”
His gaze slipped down her body and her skin tingled. “Christina, baby, you’re babbling. Do you honestly care what your brother’s team calls him or doesn’t call him at this very moment?”
He had her there. She rolled her head from side to side. “Not really.”
“We can discuss names later… But first, either you tell me where to find those condoms, or I’m going back for seconds.”
Her breath hitched. “I don’t think either of those options is bad for me.”
“Or me. You taste sweet… and I love the way you moan when you’re coming, you know that? Such a proper lady.”
Damn, but he made her feel good inside. So warm and happy. Crazy. And probably just a temporary sensation due to the very out-of-character way she’d jumped into bed with a man she barely knew.
“My granny would be happy you think so, God rest her soul. She worked hard to make sure I became a proper lady.”
She reached for the drawer of her nigh
tstand table and pulled out a box. She’d felt self-conscious when she’d gone into the drugstore for these the other night, but then she’d also thought, What the hell? A woman needed to be prepared these days.
Remy took the box with a wicked grin. “I look forward to making the lady scream before the night is through.”
Her heart jumped at the promise in those words. “I want to scream, Remy. I really do.”
He opened the box and ripped off a packet, tearing it and removing the condom. Tossing everything aside, he rolled it on, then settled between her legs again.
His fingers feathered over her cheek. “I suppose I could do this with a bit more finesse, but the truth is I want you too much to show restraint. You okay with that?”
Christina nibbled the inside of her lip just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “What precisely does that mean, Remy?”
“It means, honey, that I’m about to lose my fucking mind. That I’m going to push inside you and fuck you harder than I probably should—unless you tell me it’s too much, in which case I’ll go easy on you. Then I’m going to explode, and I’ll probably make some noise when I do. After that, collapse is likely—but only for about five minutes while I wait for the strength to do it all again.”
Oh, the things he said made her squirm—in the very best way. Her body was still languid from her orgasm, and yet she was unsatisfied too. She needed more.
A little pinprick of fear pierced the bubble of her happiness, reminding her it wasn’t a good idea to get addicted to this man. She couldn’t trust herself right now, couldn’t trust her heart or her head. Men were unhealthy for her long-term peace of mind at the moment.
Remy dropped his mouth to her neck, sucked the skin over her throat. “You okay with that, Christina? Or you need a bit more foreplay?”
She tugged on his hair until he lifted his head and looked at her. “If you give me any more foreplay, I may say something very unladylike.”
He laughed. “Oh honey, I definitely want to hear you say something unladylike. Lots of things, in fact. But yeah…” He pushed forward then, entering her in a long, slow glide. “I’d much rather get down to business.”
Being inside Christina was every bit the heaven he’d hoped it would be. Her eyes dilated, her jaw went slack, and the grip she had on him tightened as she arched her body up to meet him.
Remy had to be still for a long moment just to regain his equilibrium. He’d fucked a lot of women in his life, been semiserious with one once, but he’d never felt quite like this before. As if the next breath he took had to happen with her beneath him. As if her not being there would be the end of him somehow.
It was crazy and unreal—and he didn’t fucking care how nuts it was. He only wanted to feel everything he was feeling right now for as long as he could.
He started to move deep inside her, drawing his cock out of her body and then pushing forward again. No matter that he’d said he was going to lose control when he got inside her, no way would he hurt her. No way.
Her legs wrapped high around his waist, her slim ankles resting on his back, and he reached down to cup her ass in one hand, lifting her even more.
“Oh,” she gasped, her eyes closing, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip.
“Fuck,” he whispered, licking that lip, sucking it between his teeth as he increased the pace.
“Yes,” she moaned into his mouth. “Yes.”
“Kiss me,” he ordered, and she obeyed, her tongue slipping into his mouth and tangling with his.
Her lips were so sweet, her tits so perfect, her pussy a world of pleasure he was getting lost in. The control he’d held so tightly slipped until he was pounding into her faster and harder, until they had to break free of the kiss to gulp in air, until the world narrowed into a dark point in the distance he had to reach.
His release slammed into him like a hard crash against a concrete wall, taking his breath, his strength, his ability to form words. He felt Christina coming around him, her body gripping his tight, forcing more pleasure into the moment than he’d thought possible.
He poured his body into hers until there was nothing left, and then he rolled to the side, relishing the cool air where it hit his sweat-dampened skin. His throat was scratchy, and he knew it was because he’d shouted a stream of dirty words as he came.
He didn’t know what to say, hadn’t quite processed the gravity of everything he was feeling. This was more than random, emotionless fucking. But how much more? What else could it be when they barely knew each other?
He didn’t know, but he knew it was. He reached for Christina’s hand, threaded his fingers through hers, and squeezed. She squeezed back, but her heart didn’t seem to be in it. He propped himself up on an elbow and gazed at her. Her eyes were closed tight, the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown, and that made his heart skip.
Dammit, he should have had more control.
“Baby, was I too rough? You okay?”
She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. And then she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it had earlier.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
She lowered her gaze. “Physically, I’m fine. I’m not sure about the rest.”
He tipped her chin up with a fist, searching her eyes. They shimmered and his chest tightened.
“Christina. Baby. It’s a lot to process, yeah?” He skimmed a thumb over her soft bottom lip. God, he wanted to nibble that lip. And then he wanted to get lost inside her sweet body again. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, okay? You need me to leave, I’ll leave. Need me to stay and hold you, I’ll do that too. Just tell me what you want.”
She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Why do you have to be so wonderful, Remy Marchand?”
He grinned, hoping to ease her pain. “It’s the way God made me, honey. It’s part of the DNA.”
She laughed and the vise around his chest eased just a little bit. “You’re too much, you know that?”
“Yeah.”
“I wish I’d met you a long time ago.” Her eyes were troubled. “I’m a little gun-shy about men now… not that we’re having a relationship or anything. I get that. But how do I know what I can handle? What’s safe?”
“Baby, if everyone knew that, nobody’d ever get their heart broken, would they?” He pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist, and he thanked God for that. “Let’s just take this a day at a time, okay? Tonight it’s you and me. Tomorrow is a new day. We’ll see what happens then.”
She burrowed her head against his chest. “Okay.”
Remy ran his fingers up and down her spine. He didn’t quite know how he was going to do it considering how skittish she was—understandably, of course—but he would convince her that she wanted to be his.
One shattering orgasm at a time was as good a place as any to start.
9
Baq, Qu’rim
Present Day
Nightfall brought two things, one of them beautiful and haunting, the other frightening. Christina awoke from her nap to the sounds of the Muslim call to prayer ringing from the mosques of Baq. She lay in bed and listened to the melodic words she didn’t understand, knowing that the citizens of Baq would be preparing to pray.
The second thing that had awakened her was the sound of gunfire and explosions. Christina sat up, her heart pounding as one explosion sounded particularly loud just then. The war was coming closer to the city.
She climbed from bed and pulled on her clothing—a light dress and sandals because of the heat. There was also an abaya and a hijab for her hair, but since she wasn’t seeing Sheikh Fahd until later, she didn’t put it on yet.
She grabbed the remote and flipped on the television. CNN International blared to life with coverage of the war in Qu’rim. Baq was supposed to be safe, but the fighting had taken a turn in the past few days and the rebels were close to the city now. The king’s troops were struggling to maintain their hold
on the city, but the US State Department had ordered noncombatant civilians out of the country.
She knew that, and she had a flight out in the morning. Commercial carriers were still flying into Baq, but only during the daylight hours. Before she left, she needed to get Sheikh Fahd’s agreement on her proposal, which was why she had a dinner meeting with him in the hotel restaurant tonight.
She’d turned her cell phone off earlier because Matt wouldn’t stop calling her, but now she turned it back on and waited for the inevitable blowup. Yep, twenty missed calls and a boatload of texts.
Matt: Chrissy, answer the goddamn phone.
Matt: Get the fuck out of Baq. NOW.
Evie: Sweetie, Matt’s driving me insane. Please call or text him. I know you’re fine because, well, I just do. But put the man out of his misery.
Matt: Screw Girard Oil. You’re more important than a fucking business deal.
That last one made her smile. This deal was important to Girard Oil, as they all were, especially in these days of low oil prices. Sheikh Fahd needed a place to sell his oil, and Christina wanted to be the one he sold it to. But if she couldn’t get the deal inked tonight, she was going home empty-handed.
Then she’d start working on the Russians while still trying to tempt Fahd long-distance. She typed in a quick text to that effect—well, not the part about Fahd and the Russians—and then went into the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup. Her phone dinged.
Matt: Don’t ignore me like that again, C. I’m bigger than you, and I have no problem spanking your ass.
Christina: You just try it, Mattie. I have a knee and I know where to use it for maximum effect.
Matt: Just come home and we’ll pretend this never happened. Where’s your bodyguard, btw? The old man said he sent one with you.
Christina: He’s been sick since we arrived. Stomach bug. Poor guy.
Matt: I don’t fucking care if he’s dying. He shouldn’t leave your side for a second.
Christina sighed. Then she typed out, They aren’t all like you, big brother. He’s a rent-a-cop, not an Army commando.
Because while she didn’t know precisely what her brother did, she knew it was pretty intense. Just like Remy.
HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) Page 5