Spy Hard
Page 18
She looked beyond-words lovely, better than any dream could ever be.
He stripped off his shorts before he joined her on the bed, stretching out next to her.
He wanted to extend this moment: the sensation of lying next to her skin-to-skin, the look in her eyes as she held his gaze, the feel of her curves under his fingertips. But hot need pushed him.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, harder. His fingers explored every inch of her body, her neck, her breasts, the flat plain of her stomach, her hips, and the folds between her legs that grew moist at his touch.
She gave herself to him freely, kissing him back, her hands roaming his chest and shoulders. Her unmitigated acceptance humbled him.
He kissed his way down her body, then up again. He slipped his fingers inside her down below, the same time as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.
She arched her body against his.
He teased her at the same time with his tongue and his fingers, exploring her velvety softness, wanting to make her feel as good as he felt touching her. Her soft moans reverberated in his brain. He wanted her, only her. Forever.
The knowledge that it wasn’t likely to happen about killed him. So he pushed it out of his mind and focused only on tonight, only on the here and now, on her sweet, willing body.
When her muscles constricted around his fingers, he swallowed her cries of pleasure.
The need to sink into her was overpowering. But not yet—he didn’t want this to be over yet. Not when this night might be the only one he’d ever have with her.
He turned her gently onto her stomach and brushed her hair up and away from her neck, kissed that slim, sexy curve, the outline of the licking flames of her tattoo, then kissed his way down her spine. He scraped his teeth over her firm bottom, kneading her soft skin with his fingers.
She squirmed on the mattress, the sheet bunched in her fists.
“And now I want to hear about that tattoo,” he whispered against her skin.
“The last stupid thing I did to rebel against my father.” She paused. “He ignored me for most of my life, then after my mom died in an accident at the university lab, he turned into a control freak. Can we talk about him later?” She sounded gratifyingly weak.
“We don’t have to talk at all. I’m just going to admire the fine handiwork for a second.” Sexy as hell—gave her a touch of the rebel.
When every inch had been kissed, he flipped her again, and pulled up her knees, situated himself between them. Dragged his lips down her inner thigh. Then he tasted her.
And never wanted to stop.
She squirmed against him, her fingers in his hair, whispering his name.
He took his time bringing her to the peak again, his own body near exploding.
He looked up at her as she sailed off into bliss. She wept with pleasure. He nearly wept with need.
He reached for his shorts next to the bed, at last, and pulled a small foil package from the pocket, sheathed himself, then positioned himself at her opening. “Look at me.”
She did.
And he entered her, slow inch by slow inch.
Her body felt incredible as it closed around him. He never wanted the sensation to end. He rocked against her, swallowing a groan of pleasure.
They fit together perfectly, as if her body had been made for him and his made for her. He started with slow strokes, then built speed, losing himself in her. Whatever difficult road had brought him to this point in his life, to this woman, had been worth it.
Pressure built, pleasure swirled, his muscles tightened. They tumbled over the edge together.
They lay side by side, breathing heavily, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
“You need a man who is steady and true and can be with you every day of the week,” he said morosely, sometime later.
“A music teacher,” she mumbled against his shoulder.
Jealousy sliced through him. His muscles tightened.
A killing rage rose in his belly. “You have someone?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He relaxed. They lay silent for a few more minutes.
“The best I can offer is a week or two between missions. You can’t settle for something like that. Not with the kids.”
She kissed his skin. “Let me decide what we need.”
He drew in a deep breath as hope spread through his chest. “I haven’t had a steady home since I’ve been in high school.”
“This could be the place. You can come home to us between missions.”
“It can’t be enough for you. I know it’s not enough for me.” But it was a hundred times more than he’d dared to hope for before he’d come here.
“It’ll be enough for now. You won’t work this job forever.”
“At least a few more years.”
“We’ll deal with it like any other military family.”
Family.
Sounded right and felt right. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was what he wanted. “I don’t have to be back on base for another two weeks. It’ll give me a running start at getting to know the kids.” He pulled her on top of him. “During the day. I want to spend my nights making love to you.”
She sat up, straddling him, her glorious breasts jutting out in the moonlight. “And when will you sleep?”
“I’m a special ops soldier. I don’t need sleep,” he scoffed, then gripped her hips and lifted her. He lowered her slowly onto his hardness while he pushed up and inside her soft body.
“I love you,” he said.
She gave a teasing smile. “Are you sure it’s not just the rescue complex talking?”
“Of all the people I know, you need to be rescued least.”
“I know.” Her smile grew. “Isn’t it great?”
He pushed all the way in, then stilled. “Say it.”
She held his gaze, emotions filling her eyes, taking his breath away. “I love you, Jase.”
* * * * *
Look for Dana Marton’s next book of heart-stopping romantic suspense,
THE SPY WORE SPURS, next month.
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ISBN: 9781459230743
Copyright © 2012 by Dana Marton
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