Secret Agent Seduction

by Maureen Smith

  Through the fog bank of desire clouding her brain, she realized that he was still wearing his jeans. She reached out, fumbling blindly with his zipper. Her hands shook as she yanked his jeans and dark briefs over his taut, powerful thighs and endless legs. His erection jutted toward her, long, thick and impossibly hard. Her loins ached, her whole body ached with the primal need to have him buried deep inside her. Their gazes locked as she curled her fingers around his throbbing penis and stroked him, making him swear hoarsely.

  Too ravenous to wait any longer, he grasped her buttocks and lifted her into his arms. They both shuddered violently the moment their bodies collided. Lia closed her eyes and clung to him, her arms clasped around his neck, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

  Lost to everything but the anticipation of finally having him inside her, she didn’t realize he’d carried her halfway across the room until her back hit the smooth warmth of the pine wall.

  With one savage thrust he entered her, burying himself to the hilt. Lia cried out wildly, clawing at the corded muscles of his back, her thighs quaking uncontrollably. She was already on the verge of an orgasm when suddenly he froze, stiffening against her.

  She whimpered in protest, opening her eyes to stare up at him in panicked confusion. Why had he stopped? What was he waiting for?

  His eyes were tightly closed, as if he was in agony. As if he, too, was already on the brink of losing control. “You feel so damn good,” he uttered raggedly. “I don’t…I can’t…”

  Lia rocked her hips desperately against him. “Please don’t stop,” she begged. “Please. Please. Please.”

  She nearly sobbed with relief when he began moving inside her, plunging deep and retreating in a slow, blatantly erotic rhythm that threatened to send her over the edge. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, chère,” he groaned thickly. “A lifetime.”

  Lia would have made some sort of response, but she was beyond forming coherent speech. How was it possible she’d lived this long without experiencing this kind of pleasure? How had she survived?

  Armand—for he was no longer Magliore—slanted his mouth over hers, seizing her lips in a kiss of such searing passion her head swam. As his mouth opened and closed over hers in hungry demand, their tongues mated feverishly. Heat encapsulated her entire body. A bead of perspiration pooled in the hollow at the base of her throat and trickled down. He chased it with his lips, making her shiver.

  The rhythm of their lovemaking changed, from slow and sensual to fast and frenetic. Every nerve ending, every cell in her body clamored for release. As he drove into her, staring into her eyes, she didn’t need to read his mind to understand what he was communicating to her. The message was clear—he didn’t want her to ever forget that it was he at her center, moving through her core, possessing her body. There would be no room for doubt or confusion.

  Lia knew she would never, ever forget. This moment, this man, would be permanently branded upon her memory, her very soul, long after he was out of her life.

  Her nails raked his back as he pounded ruthlessly into her. She arched backward, pressing her sweaty body closer to his as she felt pressure building inside her, as intense as the storm raging outside.

  Watching her face with a look of feral possession, he whispered huskily, “You belong to me now.” She whimpered as he eased out of her with excruciating slowness, almost to the tip. “Do you know why?”

  Lia thought she shook her head frantically, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “Let me show you.”

  He surged back inside her and she came. Violently.

  As wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her, she screamed his name loud enough to drown out the clap of thunder that suddenly shook the cabin.

  With a powerful thrust and a triumphant shout, Armand joined her moments later, shuddering so deeply she nearly came again. She clung to him tightly, her body still reeling from the aftershocks of the most mind-blowing orgasm she’d ever had.

  She didn’t know how long they remained like that, their bodies locked together as they panted and trembled against each other.

  It was only when the lights flickered, then went out completely, that she raised her head weakly from his shoulder and glanced around the dark cabin in dazed confusion.

  Chuckling softly, Armand nibbled her bottom lip. “We must have knocked out the power, chère. Even the backup generators.”

  Lia blushed, even as a shaky laugh escaped. “I actually think you might be right.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” he said huskily, gazing into her eyes. “I always knew it would be this way between us. Explosive.”

  “Earth-shattering,” she agreed, and they shared a lazy, intimate smile.

  Realizing that his arms might be getting tired from holding her up against the wall, she reluctantly began disentangling herself. But Armand stopped her.

  “Stay,” he whispered against her mouth.

  He didn’t have to ask twice. She tightened her slippery thighs around his hips, hugging him closer, keeping their bodies joined.

  They kissed, a long, deep, provocative kiss.

  Drawing back, Lia rested her damp forehead against his with a breathless little sigh. She couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, she’d felt so deliciously sated after sex. “It’s been hours since we ate, er, breakfast. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah,” Armand murmured, his penis hardening inside her once again, “but not for food.”

  Instantly aroused, Lia tightened her arms around his neck and clung to him as he strode purposefully toward his bedroom. They fell across the rumpled king-size bed, coming together in the center and wrapping around each other with the mindless craving of new lovers.

  Four hours later, lying on his side with his head propped in his hand, Armand gazed down at Lia’s sleeping face in the candlelit darkness of his bedroom. She lay snuggled against him with the covers pulled up to her chin, as trusting and peaceful as a child. Light and shadow played across her features, serenely beautiful in slumber. Her soft, lush lips were parted slightly, and every so often she made these adorable little sighing noises that brought a smile to his face. After hours of intense lovemaking, her thick, black hair was loose and disheveled, spread across the pillow the way he’d always envisioned in his fantasies.

  But this was no fantasy, Armand reminded himself with a renewed sense of wonder. After eight long, torturous years of dreaming and fantasizing about her, Lia Charles was finally in his bed. He wasn’t going to tempt fate by questioning his good fortune. All he knew was that he’d awakened from a nap earlier to find her watching him with an expression of such tender yearning it took his breath away. Even now, hours later, he was afraid to hope his eyes hadn’t been deceiving him. He was afraid to believe he’d seen love—love—shining in her eyes as she stared at him.

  It was too much to hope for. Her sudden reappearance in his life, when he thought he’d never see her again, had been miraculous enough. To have her love would make him the happiest, most grateful man on earth.

  After carrying her into the bedroom hours earlier, he’d made love to her over and over again, unleashing years of pent-up need and desire, until she literally begged for mercy. Blowing hair out of her eyes, her body still trembling from an orgasm, she’d laughingly threatened to lock herself in her bedroom unless Armand promised to let her rest for at least an hour. He’d agreed, albeit reluctantly. He couldn’t get enough of her, and it had nothing to do with his yearlong sexual drought. Lia would have made him insatiable even if he’d been bedding a different woman every night for the past ten years. Making love to her was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Just the sheer pleasure of hearing her scream his name as she climaxed surpassed his fantasies.

  But it wasn’t just about the explosive chemistry between them, the sheer intensity of their lovemaking. It was about the powerful connection they shared, both in and out of bed. Sometimes when he and Lia looked at each other, he had the uncanny sensation
that they could see into each other’s souls.

  Armand chuckled quietly to himself. If his soldiers could see him now, they would hardly recognize the lovesick fool he had become. They knew him as a fearless fighter, a hardened renegade, a leader of men. Hardly the type to lay awake for hours romanticizing about soul mates. If they could see the silly grin on his face as he watched Lia sleeping in his arms, they would swear she had cast some sort of spell over him. And, in a way, they would be right. He had been in love with her ever since he saw her standing outside the town clinic that fateful afternoon. Only a sorceress could steal a man’s heart without ever having to say a word.

  Even now, when he should have been as exhausted as she was, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. The sight of her curvaceous form outlined beneath the covers tempted him to strip away the blanket, bury his face between her thighs and feast on her luscious sweetness until she shuddered and came violently in his mouth. But a promise was a promise, so he kept his hands, and his tongue, to himself. He’d even let her sleep an extra thirty minutes. Why not? He was feeling generous.

  Besides, if he could somehow convince her to return to Muwaiti with him and marry him, he’d have the rest of their lives to ravish her. Because there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted Lia to become his wife. Together they could help rebuild the land they both loved so much. He would never forget what she’d told him four days ago. I felt like something was compelling me to stay, almost like I’d be leaving a part of myself behind if I left the island.

  Those words had sent chills up and down his spine, confirming his growing belief that he and Lia were destined for each other. She wouldn’t have felt such a powerful connection to the island, his home, if they weren’t meant to be together.

  But Armand knew it would take more than prophetic words—even her own—to persuade Lia to return to Muwaiti with him. Her whole life was here, in America. Her parents, her friends, her job. Even if she were willing to leave her parents behind—which would be difficult, given how close they were—Armand knew she’d never agree to walk away from the Secret Service. She loved her job, and she’d made it abundantly clear to him that any man who forced her to choose between a relationship and her career would come out on the losing end.

  Armand didn’t like losing, especially when it came to losing the woman he wanted to spend the rest of eternity with.

  He was so desperate to keep Lia in his life that he’d even fantasized about getting her pregnant. Surely she wouldn’t walk away from him if she was carrying his child, he reasoned. And the idea of her having his baby, bringing their son or daughter into the world, filled him with unspeakable joy.

  But it was a short-lived fantasy. When he apologized to her for not having any condoms, since he’d spent the past year living in the jungle, she’d laughed and assured him that she was on the pill, so they were at least protected from an unplanned pregnancy.

  So much for that idea.

  No, Armand thought as he gazed upon the sleeping woman in his arms, he wouldn’t have enjoyed trapping her into marriage, anyway. He wanted her, badly, but not at the expense of her happiness. Somehow he had to convince her that she couldn’t live without him any more than he could live without her.

  The way she’d looked at him earlier gave him hope. If Lia loved him, truly loved him, then she would see that they could have a beautiful future together in Muwaiti.

  What about America? a voice pricked his conscience. Why does she have to be the only one making all the sacrifices? Do I love her enough to sacrifice returning to my beloved homeland? If our love is real, does it really matter where we live, as long as we’re together?

  As if Lia had channeled those thoughts into his mind, she suddenly stirred awake, stretching languorously beneath the covers. Her soft, purring moan sent a jolt of hunger speeding to his groin.

  Those long, sooty lashes lifted and she peered up at him. “How long have I been asleep?”

  Armand smiled. “About an hour and a half.”

  Her lips curved in a drowsy smile. “Thanks for giving me a little more time.”

  He chuckled softly. “I figured you would need it. I plan to keep you up very late tonight.”

  She groaned, but he could tell she was pleased. She enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he did. That was very promising.

  As he stared at her she parted her lips, drawing his thumb into the silken heat of her mouth. Need ripped through him.

  She watched through smoky, heavy-lidded eyes as he pulled the covers from her body. He slipped his hands between her knees and parted them. His fingers slid downward, massaging the smooth, sensitive skin of her inner thighs until her breathing quickened.

  With a slow, sensual smile he moved down and pressed the tip of his tongue to her warm, moist opening. She let out a broken moan, her hips flying off the bed. His groin ached, hot need stabbing through him as the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. She closed her eyes and threw back her head as he flicked his tongue against her throbbing sex, going a little deeper each time, swirling, teasing, torturing. When his teeth scraped the slick nub of her clitoris, her stomach muscles clenched and her thighs began to quiver uncontrollably. Cupping her bottom, he lifted her hips higher, sliding into her with his tongue, stroking deeper with a wild and increasing hunger. She writhed against him, her breathless gasps and moans filling the room.

  Knowing that she was about to come, he pulled away abruptly and covered her trembling body with his own. She locked her long legs around his hips as he drove into her with a sharp, powerful thrust. She cried out, opening herself wider, inviting him even deeper. He began moving inside her, hard, fast strokes that made her pant and arch against him, matching his rhythm. He whispered erotic promises in French and she responded in kind, fueling his savage hunger. Their coupling was fierce, elemental, marked with the blind desperation of two lovers who knew the future was uncertain.

  Armand rolled Lia on top of him so that she straddled him, knees planted wide on either side of his body. She sat back, sinking deeper onto his erection. She braced her hands on his shoulders, her hair falling in a wild curtain across her face. He groaned as she rocked her hips frantically, her breasts bouncing as he bucked under her, forcing himself deeper into her wet heat, so deep that she soon exploded with a loud, mewling cry, her inner muscles contracting violently around him.

  She was still sobbing as he shifted positions, turning her over so that he could take her from behind. He held her close, his fingertips digging into her hips as he thrust high and deep inside her. Moaning with pleasure, she reached back and grabbed his butt so tightly he thought she’d leave permanent handprints. He drove into her repeatedly before finding his own release with a powerful shudder that shook his whole body and tore a hoarse shout from his throat. He didn’t pull out of her until he’d emptied every last drop of his seed into her pulsing womb.

  As the tremors gradually tapered off, he gathered her into his arms and drew the covers over their bodies. Closing his eyes, he tenderly brushed his lips across her temple and stroked her damp hair, as her breathing slowed to a steady deepness. This time he, too, fell asleep, lulled by the precious feel of her breath against his chest, comforted by the warmth of her body curled against his. Right where she belonged.

  Chapter 14

  Wednesday, September 10, 2008

  0900 hours

  Thurmont, Maryland

  Day 6

  The next morning, Lia didn’t have much time to dwell on feelings of shame or regret for sleeping with Armand.

  Shortly after they returned from having breakfast at the main lodge—she’d learned her lesson about trying to cook—she received a phone call from Nancy Janikowski’s secretary, who informed Lia that an electrician was en route to the cabin to investigate the faulty wiring.

  Lia asked curiously, “Where’s Janikowski?”

  “She’s on a special this week,” the secretary answered vaguely, using agency jargon for a special assignment.

  Lia
frowned. “She didn’t tell me she’d be out of pocket for a few days.”

  “Well, she is. She’ll be in touch with you when she gets back, Agent Charles.”

  As Lia thanked the woman and hung up the phone, she thought, Something’s not right.

  She couldn’t put a finger on the reason for her sudden unease. The unpredictable nature of the job affected everyone in protective services, even those in management. It wasn’t unusual for Janikowski, or any other supervisor, to have to drop everything in order to accompany an advance team to a hot location, which was any location where heightened security was needed—especially on the eve of the September 11 anniversary. In all likelihood, Janikowski was traveling with the president’s protection detail, lending additional support during the chaotic election season. She probably hadn’t had an opportunity to contact Lia before she had left to let her know she’d be out of the office for a few days.

  That was the most logical explanation, Lia decided. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly amiss….

  She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Armand had spoken to her until he reached out and gently touched her shoulder, startling her.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, flashing him an apologetic smile. “I got sidetracked. What did you say?”

  His gaze roamed across her face. “I asked you if something was wrong. You’ve been frowning ever since you got off the phone. Is everything all right?”

  Seeing the unasked question in his eyes, Lia hastened to reassure him. “Your family is fine, don’t worry. That was my supervisor’s secretary, letting me know that an electrician is coming out today to check the wiring.”

  Armand nodded, sitting forward on the sofa. “There’s really no point though, is there? Aren’t we leaving here on Friday to fly to New York for the UN hearing?”