by Sybil Bartel
She bit her bottom lip, but her gaze drifted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I don’t want you to say a thing. I want your tight cunt to pulse around my dick, and I want you to fucking know what consensual sex feels like.”
“I’ve had consensual sex,” she whispered.
Because she fucking whispered it, because she was conditioned by Fedorov, because she was so goddamn beautiful but she didn’t have a single ounce of self-confidence not related to sex, I knew she was lying. “Whose idea was Vega?”
She didn’t answer.
“Who drove you to him? Who told you not to come? Who picked you up afterward?”
She shivered.
I didn’t let jealousy or anger rule me. Ever. But I was balls deep in a woman who deserved more than Fedorov’s abuse. She deserved more that what Vega had ever fucking given her, and she deserved a hell of a lot more than me. But I wanted her, and I was pissed the fuck off. “Who paid Vega to fuck you?” I demanded.
She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“We’re not fucking talking about it.” She wasn’t saying a goddamn word. I pulled out. “Make a choice.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes popped open. “I already made a choice.”
One way or another, she was going to tell me to fuck her before I let her come. “Did you tell me to fuck you?”
Silence.
“Do you know what you’re not doing?”
She stared at me. Then without an ounce of ambiguity in her voice, she answered, “I’m not saying no.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Fuck me. Please.”
I shoved back into her.
Her head fell back and she cried out.
I circled my thumb over her clit. “That was a choice, sweetheart.”
“Please,” she panted. “Make me come.”
I grasped her jaw. “This, right here, is who I want to fuck.” I kissed her.
He kissed me.
My thoughts upside down, the wall around my heart shattering, his giant cock stretched me past my limit and he kissed me.
Urgent and hard, his tongue stroked through my mouth like he needed me so bad he couldn’t breathe. But then he swirled his tongue in a soft caress and I lost my mind.
Tears dripped down my face.
His giant hands cupped my face and his body stilled. “What’s wrong?”
No one had ever kissed me like that.
“Irina?”
I shook my head because I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was terrified. I wanted him so bad, it hurt.
His arms wrapped around my back. “Come on.” He rolled with me securely in his embrace and sat back against the headboard. Buried deep inside me, his cock pulsed as I sat astride his huge, muscular thighs. “You cried when I kissed you. Why?”
Horrified by my tears, more slid down my cheeks.
He made no move to wipe them. “Am I hurting you?”
So, so much. I shook my head.
He gently brushed my hair from my face, then his hands encircled my waist. “Move with me, sweetheart.”
I choked back a sob at the term of endearment.
His hips thrust up and he lifted me a few inches. Intently watching me, he brought me gently back down. His lips still wet from our kiss, he was no longer just striking to me. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t look at him anymore.
My forehead fell to his chest and I gripped his giant biceps. “Please,” I begged. “Make me come.” I needed to know, just once, what it felt like to come from a man inside me.
He ground his hips. My aching clit rubbed against his hard body, but he didn’t pick up the pace. Naked of clamps, my nipples ached for attention. I tried to buck my hips to speed up the rhythm, but his hands held me steady.
“No,” I cried. “I need more.”
His thumb slid to my clit. “Look at me.”
I groaned and thrust against his hand to capture more pressure. “Yes,” I panted. “Like that.”
“Look at me.”
I lifted my head.
His eyes fierce, his jaw set, he gave me a slow grind deep inside my core. “Give me the reason for the tears.”
The tight circle of pleasure his thumb kept unleashing on my clit went from desperate need to painful pressure, and my mind did what it did every time I wanted to escape from Viktor. It shut down.
As if reading my thoughts, Dane shook his head. “No. Don’t you shut down on me.” His giant hands grasped the sides of my face. “This doesn’t work like that.”
My fears bled out. “It doesn’t work anyway. This is all I get.” My voice faltered. “One time.”
“I’m not going to be done with you after one time.” He thrust into me so hard, my breasts bounced.
I groaned and forced myself not to believe what he was saying. “Don’t lie to me.” I gripped his arms harder.
“No lie, sweetheart.” He dropped his hand back between us and pounded into me, over and over.
His thumb working my clit, his sheer size making my G-spot sing, I told myself two times with him would be enough. He felt so incredible, I almost believed the lie. “You’re going to break me.”
“I’m going to make you come.” He thrust hard, then ground his hips. “Right now.”
He didn’t even get the last word out before the sound crawled up my throat and burst between us like a caged animal screaming for freedom. My back arched, my body bowed, and every nerve ending exploded at once.
I didn’t come. I violently burst through the orgasm he owned.
Tendrils of ecstasy crawled up my spine, over my shoulders and spread across my nipples. Pulsing spasms shocked my core, and my hips thrust like I was riding my first rodeo, but there was something missing.
“Oh my God, oh my God, come inside me!” I didn’t know what I was saying, I didn’t understand what I was feeling, I didn’t even know my own name, but I knew one thing for certain. I needed his release inside me. “Please,” I begged. I never wanted this feeling to end. “Don’t stop.” I gripped the short hair on his head and growled at him, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” I was on a trajectory, and he was my orbit.
He didn’t even let me touch the sky.
His tongue thrust past my lips and the sweetest taste of dominance spilled into my mouth. He swept through my heat and rocked against my G-spot as he cupped my breasts. “That’s one, sweetheart.” He pinched my nipples hard. “You’re gonna give me another.”
His cock grew inside me, and I gasped in pleasure-pain. I didn’t know it could feel like this. I didn’t know I could fly and soar. I didn’t know I could reach past the sky and never touch the earth. This wasn’t holding back an orgasm. This wasn’t my own finger rubbing my clit. This wasn’t a vibrator wand pressed so hard against me it hurt. This was everything I’d been missing, and it simultaneously made me ecstatic and enraged.
But I didn’t get to process a single emotion.
Stormy green-brown eyes sucked me into their vortex as impossibly rough hands worked me into a frenzy. Pinching my nipples, rubbing my clit with finesse, dominating my body with a hand on my nape and another on my hip, Dane kissed me.
I never stood a chance.
The second orgasm didn’t build on a slow recovery. It reared up and stole every last molecule of air I had. I fought to keep from drowning at the same time I wanted to sink into this world of impossibility.
I’d barely grasped the thought when his cock grew unbelievably big and violently pulsed. My entire body shook and the first burst of his orgasm hit my core.
I flew apart.
If my body had not been conditioned for five years for multiple orgasms, my heart would have stopped. “Dane.”
He gripped my hips and slammed me down on his pulsating cock. “That’s it, sweetheart.” His hot seed pumped into my body. “Feel me.”
The clutches of my orgasm wrapped around my heart and constricted my chest a
s my body exploded with ecstasy.
Dane Marek wasn’t a problem solver.
He was my savior.
A six-foot-four, muscled-like-a-god savior who took my heart and crushed it into oblivion as he branded my body with a taste of heaven I’d never get again.
I fucking came inside her.
Her tight cunt constricting all around me, she milked every last ounce of my orgasm.
I didn’t think.
I didn’t catalog.
I didn’t look for a way out.
I wrapped my arms around her and sank my tongue into her mouth. Stroking through her heat, feeling my cum spread inside her cunt, it was everything I never knew I was missing. And it fucking took hold in one singular driving force.
More.
I needed more. I needed to dominate her.
Holding her slight body tight against my chest, I rolled and shoved her thigh with my knee. My hips between her legs, my dick buried deep, my mouth on hers, I thrust once then pulled back to see her. “You with me?”
Her hands were curled possessively around the back of my head, but it was the look in her eyes that drew me in. “Yes.”
“You ready to go again?”
“Is this my second time?”
I stared at her because I was missing something. Stroking slow, I rode her a few moments, studying every inch of her face. She felt so fucking incredible, I never wanted to pull out. “By my count, it would be three.” Goddamn, she looked beautiful under me.
She turned her head. “You came inside me.”
I caught her chin and brought her back to me. “You told me to.”
“You’re not the type of man who does what a woman tells him.”
I stilled. “You’re right.”
“Then why did you?”
“Is that an accusation or a question?” My dick already pulsing again, I was ready to come a second time.
“How can you joke about this?”
I wasn’t fucking joking. “You don’t want children?”
Alarm spread across her face. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not laughing, sweetheart.” I brushed her hair from her face.
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow. The panic in her eyes dissipated. “Do you ever laugh?”
“Yes.” I just couldn’t remember when.
“Is this my second time?”
I finally put the pieces together. “I’m not going to be done with you after two fucks. And if you’re carrying my child, I’m never going to be done with you.”
She stared at me a moment, then resignation clouded her expression. “You tell me you don’t do repeats, but you’ll risk getting a woman pregnant and break all your rules for her? Why? Out of a sense of obligation because she’ll be carrying your child? Or do you just like the idea of knocking women up?”
“Not women, woman. One. You. And you would be the first woman who ever carried my child.” I didn’t point out again that she’d asked for this. This wasn’t one hundred percent on her. I could’ve pulled out, but I didn’t.
“That you know of.”
“Only one other woman I ever fucked without a condom, and trust me, sweetheart, my ex-wife wanted nothing to do with kids.”
Her eyes went wide. “You were married?”
“You look shocked.”
“I am.”
Fuck, I wanted to move inside her. “Because of what I do.” It wasn’t a question. I knew what she was thinking.
“What do you do?”
Besides have the longest conversation I’d had with any woman since my divorce? “Solve problems no one else can.”
“And I’m just another problem to fix.” She pushed at my chest.
I reluctantly eased out of her. “No. You have a problem. I can solve it.”
“You said I was broken.”
I rolled to my side and dragged my palm over her gorgeous tits. “You are.” Her nipples pebbled under my touch.
She tried to push away from me.
I threaded my hand through her soft hair. “You’re beautiful and broken and the strongest woman I know. If you’re carrying my child, I will take care of both of you for the rest of your lives.”
Her eyes welled with unshed tears. “And if I’m not.”
I could only give her the facts. “You’re in my bed.” The rest was up to her.
“For how long?”
I resisted what I wanted to say and said what I should. “You can do better than me.”
“You push me away in one breath then drag me under in the next.”
I breathed through two heartbeats before I replied. “Having my child is a death sentence?”
“I don’t know. Is it?”
She was pissing me off, but I’d promised myself I wouldn’t lie to her. “Probably.”
She pushed at my chest and sat up. “You call me broken, but you’re the one acting insane. You can’t treat a woman like this. You don’t get to speak in contradictory sentences and kill someone in front of her then sleep with her without a condom and call it a death sentence!”
I forced myself to keep my tone even. “You were the one who said I was dragging you under. I haven’t lied to you about anything.”
“But you don’t tell the truth either! You withhold half of what you mean and talk in cryptic sentences for the other half.”
Thirty-six hours without sleep, adrenaline spent, I lost my fucking patience. “Which truth is that? That Viktor is going to kill you if I don’t kill him first? That you look like my ex-wife? That my future is a gamble even I won’t bet on? That I want your body full with my child? Or that I want to fuck you until you’re so goddamn sore you don’t remember a fucking thing Fedorov did you.”
Her lips parted with a shocked expression.
“Is that too much truth for you to handle?” I challenged.
She blinked. “I look like her?”
Jesus Christ. “Similar.”
Her eyebrows drew together in suspicion. “I either do or I don’t.”
I didn’t have time for this bullshit. “Her blonde was fake, but her blue eyes and attitude were as real as yours, and no, I don’t have a fucking complex for blondes. Sleep, fuck or eat—pick one.” I was done talking.
“What happened?”
Fuck. “I already told you. I got a Dear John letter. She left me while I was on my first deployment. You hungry?”
Understanding descended over her features and her anger bled into caustic sympathy. “Ah. I get it.”
Goddamn it. “There’s nothing to get.”
“Sure there isn’t.” Sarcasm laced her tone.
My nostrils flared and I held back from pushing her down on the bed and fucking this out. “Do you know what kind of psychological evaluations you go through when the CIA decides they want to recruit you and turn you into a killing machine?”
She crossed her arms over her tits. “No.”
“Then know this. I passed.” I got up.
“Where are you going?”
“You lost the right to ask when you didn’t choose fucking.” I walked to the kitchen.
He walked out stark naked and I momentarily froze.
The tattoo was huge. Dark, sinister, giant wings spanned across his shoulders with the detailed feathers covering every inch of skin all the way to his waist. It was beautiful and intricate, and I couldn’t believe I’d slept with him without even knowing something so massive was tattooed on his body.
I didn’t just sleep with him, I’d told him to come inside me.
Then he’d walked out.
My jealous anger over the comment about his ex-wife returned and ramped up to destructive. I was off the bed, grabbing his 9mm from the nightstand and running after him like a pathetic scorned lover before I could think about what I was doing.
“Forget something?” I held the gun up and the stupid dog appeared out of nowhere. His low growl made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but it was his bared teeth that scared the shi
t out of me. “Call him off,” I demanded.
Dane barely spared the dog a glance before his gaze dragged the length of my naked body. “You’re holding a gun. You’re lucky he isn’t already on you.”
“I am not threatening you with it!”
“Doesn’t make a difference to him. He’s trained to protect me.”
“Call him off!”
He turned his back on me and opened the fridge. “Put the gun down.”
I stared at the tattoo. “I could shoot him.” The lower left of his back looked inflamed and red, like he’d had fresh ink done.
“You won’t.”
Egotistical, arrogant jerk. “You don’t get to walk out after coming inside me.”
He took something out of the fridge. “Is that what this is about?”
Yes. “No.” What the hell did he think this was about?
“You always this temperamental?”
The more I wanted a reaction out of him, the more I realized I wouldn’t get one. But it didn’t stop the misplaced rage that was brewing in my head like the hurricane outside. “Turn around and face me.” I put all the warning in my voice I had, but truth be told, I didn’t know what I would say to him if he turned around, because I wasn’t angry. I was hurt.
As if the bastard knew me and my thoughts, he casually set a damn pan on the stove. “You don’t want me to face you.”
The dog growled, the gun in my hand got heavier by the second, and his sexy fucking rock-hard, muscled body stood there naked as hell.
I lost it. “You fucking asshole, turn around!”
He turned.
His gaze zeroed in on mine, his body conditioned for war, he didn’t walk toward me, he stalked. Every measured step was a warning I foolishly ignored as he came right at me.
The dog’s growling got louder and the gun in my hand shook. “What are you doing?”
His face impenetrable, he snapped his fingers at the dog then reached for the 9mm. Flipping the weapon in my hand, he pointed the gun at his chest. “Put your finger on the trigger,” he commanded.
“No.” My voice shook.
He moved my finger into position then wrapped his hand over mine to steady it. “You take the safety off and you pull the trigger.” He moved the aim of the barrel to just right of center on his chest. “Aim for the heart.” He lifted my hand holding the heavy gun and pressed it to his forehead, dead center. “Or between the eyes.”