And, dammit, letting her go hungry and thirsty, letting her core body temp drop as it well might, was not any kind of protection. He needed to be in shape to get her out of here. She needed to be in shape to follow his orders. No way could he let her delay this mission.
Same as she, he wanted it to be finished with it, fast.
Dec got to his feet. “Princess?” No answer. He rolled his eyes, got his flashlight and started walking back into the cave. “Pity party’s over.”
Still nothing.
Hell.
He’d checked for animal life, but maybe he’d missed something. A snake. Even some kind of big venomous bug. He’d been on missions in this part of the world before. There were spiders here that were the size of a man’s hand. Or maybe there was another passageway that he hadn’t noticed. He’d been in caves that ran for miles and miles.
“Anoushka,” he said, raising his voice, “where are you?”
Silence.
“Goddammit, Your Highness, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? I told you, the party’s over.” Dec turned in a tight circle, casting the light over the cave walls. His heart began racing. Jesus. If something had happened to her, if she was hurt, if he never held her in his arms again…
She stepped out of the shadows.
He caught her in the full beam of the flashlight. Tears had left tracks on her dirt-smudged face.
“Annie,” he growled. “Goddammit, Annie…”
“I hate you, Declan,” she said. “I really, really hate—”
And then, at long last, she was in his arms.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dec groaned, gathered her hard against him and captured her mouth with his. The taste of her was all he could ever want.
She was all he could ever want.
She rose to him. Wound her arms around his neck. He swept his hands up her back, buried them in her hair.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, “kiss me, never stop kissing—”
Never. He would never stop kissing her.
But it wasn’t enough.
It had never been enough, but he’d been strong in the past; he’d lived on her kisses, on the feel of her in his arms.
Not tonight.
He needed more.
He needed her.
And he couldn’t have her, couldn’t take her, she would draw back, he knew she would, she’d do what she’d always done, take her lips from his, dig her face into his throat or his shoulder, make it apparent that she didn’t want to go further and he would honor that, Jesus, he had to honor it…
He lifted her off her feet.
She wrapped her legs around his hips.
He could feel the heat of her against his dick. His stone-hard dick.
“Annie,” he said, the single word a whispered warning, “Annie…”
She ground her pelvis against his.
There was no other way to describe it.
She was grinding against him. Moving against him. Moaning and moving and, God, he couldn’t do this, he was only human, they had to stop, she had to stop or he was going to strip her pants off, yank down his zipper, bury himself inside her…
Ah, Christ!
She was tugging at his sweater. Trying to drag it up his body, then shoving her hands under it and putting them on his chest, her palms hot against his skin.
Declan shuddered under that soft, exciting touch. He clasped her wrists. Stilled her hands. Bent his head and lay his forehead against hers.
“Annie.” His voice was low. Raw. “Annie, if you keep touching me… I won’t be able to stop.”
“Please,” she said, “Declan, please please please please…”
A growl rose in his throat.
He carried her through the cave, to the fire.
Went down with her on the leafy bed.
She rolled into his arms, her mouth still fused to his, one of her legs thrown over his, her hands pulling at his sweater again until he tore it off and tossed it aside.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
He gave a broken laugh. “You’re the one who’s beautiful, sweetheart. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“I want to be beautiful for you. I want to be everything for you.”
“You are,” he said, framing her face with his hands. “You always were. You always will be.”
He kissed her. She moaned and pulled back and for a heartbeat, he thought he was going to die, that she was going to stop him from loving her.
“Declan,” she whispered. “Undress me.”
He could hear the thunder of his blood.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?”
She clasped his hands. Brought them to her. “Undress me,” she said, and whatever faint hope of restraint he might have had left was gone.
He undressed her slowly.
His hands trembled.
Her sweater first. It was the one he’d given her, military issue, voluminous and rough.
What was beneath it almost stopped his heart.
Annie was beneath it. Pure Annie. No bra. No T-shirt. Just Annie, her skin the color of pale gold, her breasts high and small and perfect, God, perfect, the nipples a sweet, delicate pink.
He bent to her. Kissed the slope of her breasts. Trailed the tip of his tongue over that warm, tender flesh.
She moaned. Trembled. Whispered his name. And when he cupped her breasts, gently kissed the tightly furled buds, she cried out and writhed beneath him.
Gently, he rolled one nipple between his fingers.
She arched towards him, sobbing.
He closed his lips around her other nipple. Sucked on it.
Her hands fisted in his hair as her cry rose into the night. “Declan,” she sobbed, “Declan, Declan, Declan…”
He kissed her mouth, her throat, felt the race of her pulse beneath his kisses and then his lips closed around the tip of one breast again and her sobs, her breathless little cries, her body moving against his…
He could feel what was happening to him.
The tightening of his balls. The sense that he was going to explode.
No. Not yet. Not yet…
“Please,” she whispered, “please.”
His hands shook as he unzipped her pants. “Lift up,” he said hoarsely, and when she did, he pulled the pants down to her ankles, stopped to yank off her boots, then dragged the pants off and threw them aside.
Her panties were lace. White lace, but they were demure, almost modest. Carefully, he drew them down her thighs, her calves, her ankles, groaning as he exposed her to his eyes. The gentle curve of her hips, the delicacy of her belly button, the soft dark curls between her thighs.
He bent to her, kissed her belly button, kissed his way lower, lower, put his mouth against those curls. Her hands flew up to stop him.
“No,” she whispered, “you can’t, you can’t…”
He caught her wrists, nuzzled against her. Her thighs parted and he inhaled her scent, put his mouth to her and kissed her.
“God,” she sobbed, “oh God…”
He found her with his tongue, tasted the sweet essence of her. Woman. Passion. Everything he had ever dreamed or wanted.
She moaned. And then she cried out and bucked against his mouth, and he knew he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t wait, couldn’t wait…
He got to his feet. Somehow managed to kick off his boots. Unzipped his fly, shoved down his pants and his shorts, and came down to her again.
“Annie,” he said hoarsely.
She raised her eyes to his.
“Declan,” she answered, and he knew that no matter what lay ahead of them, he would never forget the way she said his name, the way she opened her arms to him.
He said her name again.
Then, slowly, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he eased inside her.
She was hot. Wet. Tight. She was silk and he was steel.
She was the only thing in life that mattered.
His vision blurred. His heartbeat acc
elerated. She was lifting herself to him, her breath coming in tight little puffs. Her hands clutched his biceps…
Suddenly, she went rigid. “Wait,” she gasped.
And then he felt it.
The barrier.
His Annie was a virgin. Sweet Jesus. A virgin.
How could he have forgotten that she would, damn right, be a virgin?
At first, the thought of what she was giving him—her innocence, the very symbol of her womanhood—made him the most special man in the world.
It took barely a second for that idea to crash and burn.
She was a virgin, and that explained everything,
Why she’d always pulled back in the past.
Why she’d seemed so innocent.
Hell, it was because she was innocent, and in this part of the world a woman was expected to save herself for the man she married.
The woman he’d thought of as his had been doing exactly that, saving herself, just waiting for the day she would take a husband—and she’d been on her way to do that when she was kidnapped.
Reality came hard and fast.
This wasn’t a bed; it was a pile of leaves. This wasn’t an idyll on a mountaintop, it was a moment torn out of time.
And the woman lying beneath him wasn’t his. She never had been; she never would be.
Amazing, how quickly desire could die.
Dec rolled away, got to his feet, grabbed for his pants and yanked them on.
“Declan?”
He didn’t look at her. Instead, he scooped up her clothes and tossed them to her.
“Get dressed.”
“Are you upset because I’ve never—because I’ve never been with a man? I know I should have told you—”
“It’s late. I need to check on the horse.”
“Declan. Wait…”
Dec strode into the night, but he didn’t go very far. He sank back against the cliff and rubbed his hands over his face.
Jesus, he had to be crazy. He needed to get her out of his head and instead, he’d almost planted her there permanently. He’d never taken a woman’s virginity, but he knew damn well it was the kind of thing that a man would not forget. It would have stayed with him, probably forever.
That was the last thing he needed.
The Princess of Qaram, inside his skull for the rest of his life.
Women were for fun. For sex, for laughter, for good times. And if some guys found more than that, well, good for them, but he’d never figured on being one of them.
Forever wasn’t on his agenda.
And then Annie had come into his life and everything had changed.
She’d filled empty spaces in his head, his heart, fuck, in his soul, empty spaces that he’d never even known existed. Then she’d left, and all his empty places had been empty again.
He’d told her she hadn’t hurt him.
What a lie.
She’d hurt him beyond anything he could have imagined, but he’d been getting over it. Of course he’d been getting over it.
Which was why he didn’t want her in his life again.
What he wanted was her out and gone. Then maybe he could get back to being himself, Declan Sanchez, a guy who lived for risk and excitement and—
And what?
Hell.
And for getting this mission accomplished.
He’d lost sight of that. The questions he hadn’t asked had to be asked. Why didn’t she want to go back to Qaram? Whose prize was the Princess Anoushka supposed to be?
He took a long, deep breath. Then he turned and went back inside the cave.
Annie had put on her clothes. She was sitting as she had been earlier, with her arms wrapped around her knees.
Dec cleared his throat. “Annie.”
“Go away.”
“Listen. About what happened—”
“Nothing happened,” she said in a tone cold enough to freeze water.
“Yeah. Right. I mean… Let’s put that aside.”
She looked up at him. “Trust me,” she said in that same icy voice. “I already have.”
Man, she was furious. Okay. Maybe she had the right to be angry, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still need information.
“You have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have to tell you a damned thing.”
Okay. Enough. Dec reached down, grasped her shoulders and hauled her to her feet.
“You want to get out of this alive? Then you need to tell me what I’m into here.”
“What you’re into?” Her chin lifted. “Why am I not surprised that you think this is all about you?”
“Look, I know you tried to explain the situation to me and I cut you off. I was stupid.”
Her smile was all teeth. “At least we agree on something.”
“I have to see all the puzzle pieces if I’m going to get us out of this situation.”
“My uncle stole my father’s throne. He wants to invade Suwaith.”
“Suwaith?”
“Yes. And he needs Tharsalonia’s cooperation. To get it, he sold me to the Tharsalonian king, but somehow Altair Amjad, the Great Deliverer of his band of cutthroats, decided he wanted me to legitimatize his not-so-sterling reputation. Those are the puzzle pieces.” Annie shoved against Declan’s chest. “Now get the hell away from me, Lieutenant Sanchez. And stay away.”
“It’s too late for that. I’m here. You’re here. Goddammit, you’ve been here, inside me, since we met on that beach.” Dec’s hands slid to her elbows. “I want the truth, Annie. All of it, from that first day to the day you vanished and straight through to now. Tell me why you lied to me, why you figured it was okay to string me along and then walk out of my life without so much as a Goodbye, good luck, it was fun. You hear me? I want the story from A to Z, with not a goddamn word left out.”
He was shaking her. He hadn’t meant to shake her, but he was hot with rage, with anger…
With pain.
And Annie… Ah, dear God, Annie was sobbing.
He’d hurt her and God, he’d never wanted to hurt her, to disappoint her, to do anything but make her happy.
What he’d just done—starting to make love to her, then walking away… Jesus. He couldn’t believe he’d done such a despicable thing.
And why? Because he was jealous of a man she’d already told him she didn’t want to marry?
His head kept telling him she was lying, but his heart knew the truth. She wasn’t capable of lying. If she had lied to him, it had been because she’d truly believed she had no other choice.
How terrible her life must have been for her to have been afraid of letting him in.
Dec groaned and gathered her into his arms. She fought him, but not for long. A heartbeat later she had her arms around him and her face buried in his throat.
“Baby,” he said brokenly, “Annie. Forgive me.” He held her against him, stroking his hand down her back, cradling her against his body, rocking her gently in his arms. “I think I went crazy when you left me.”
Annie lifted her tear-stained face and kissed him.
“I never wanted to leave you,” she whispered. “Why would I have left the man I love?”
Could you actually feel your heart fill with joy? Declan bent his head and kissed her.
“I’m in love with you,” he said. “I can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”
He kissed her again. Gently at first, and then she made a soft little sigh of surrender, of desire, and he changed the angle of the kiss. Deepened it, and she moaned and stroked her hand down his spine.
He undressed her again, even as she undressed him. Slowly, this time, with soft caresses and kisses as each bit of skin was bared.
When she was naked, the sight of her took his breath away.
She was everything he had dreamed, everything he’d wanted. Her delicate breasts. Her narrow waist. Her ge
ntly rounded hips and long legs.
He would never get enough of having her in his arms.
He drew her down to their bed of leaves and she opened her arms to him.
“Come into me,” she said, and as he captured her mouth with his, he sank into her, gritting his teeth with the effort of taking her slowly, of not hurting her, of giving her time to adjust to him.
He was big. He knew that. The size of his dick had always been a source of what he realized was foolish male pride, but the women he’d been with were always experienced.
Annie wasn’t, and he was afraid he might cause her pain.
And, dammit, he was. He had to be, judging by the breathless little gasp that went from her mouth to his.
Dec went still.
“I’m hurting you,” he said hoarsely.
She shook her head. “No. Yes. Declan. Don’t stop. Don’t—”
He groaned and slid deeper.
She said his name. Wound her arms around his neck as he slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her to him.
“Oh,” she whispered, “oh oh oh…”
He was inside her now. Not all the way, not deep enough, but despite what she’d said, he knew he had to be hurting her—she was so tight and he was so big. He was shaking; it was hard, so hard not to take her completely, not to make her his after all the days and weeks of waiting…
“Declan,” she said, and before he realized what she was going to do, she raised her hips and impaled herself on his erection.
The world tilted.
She gave a sweet, soft moan and rocked against him, and whatever control remained to him was gone.
He drove into her.
She sobbed his name. Bit his lip. Fisted her hands in his hair as he claimed her. Wrapped her legs tightly around his hips so she could meet each thrust of his body.
He was going to come.
No. Not yet. Not yet…
But she was with him.
He could feel it happening.
The tensing of her muscles. The contraction of her silken walls. She was coming for him, coming with him, and somehow he managed to hang on until she threw back her head and screamed—and then he let go of everything: the loneliness, the despair, the endless weeks without her, and fell over the edge of the universe with his Annie in his arms.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Renegade: Special Tactical Units Devision (STUD) Book 3 Page 9