Had she not been restrained, she would’ve latched on to his head and held him to her. As it was, he was teasing her, lightly grazing her clit with the tip of his tongue, thrashing gently yet insistently.
Gripping the cord that held her to the headboard, Marissa dug her heels into the bed and tried to thrust her hips upward, only for Trace to grip her upper thighs and hold her down, not allowing her to move even a fraction of an inch. His gruff chuckle made her smile while he continued to make her body burn.
“If I wasn’t already addicted to you, I would be now,” Trace said absently.
Marissa’s body went stone still as she stared back at him. Had he realized what he’d said? Did he mean it? Was he really addicted to her?
Not only was she assaulted by incredible pleasure but her heart was now fully involved in the moment. Being there with Trace, having his hands roam over her skin, his eyes focused solely on her, Marissa knew that this moment would define her for the rest of her life.
Having had a crush on this man for more years than she could remember, being there with him, alone in his bedroom… It was a dream come true. One she never wanted to forget.
“Oh, God!” Marissa screamed when he plunged one finger into her pussy, his lips latching on to her clit as he thrashed it repeatedly with his devious tongue. “I’m going to…”
Yeah, there was no finishing the sentence because Marissa’s entire body lit up like the Fourth of July, her senses reeling from the wonder that was her orgasm.
“Beautiful,” Trace said, glancing up at her. “I want to see it again, though.”
With that, Trace thrust his tongue back between her folds while he continued to fuck her with his finger. Marissa held on as long as she could, the sensitivity too much to ignore, because within minutes, she was once again hovering on the edge, ready and willing to throw herself over into oblivion.
When Trace pushed two fingers inside of her, filling her even more, Marissa closed her eyes, and starbursts of color ignited behind her closed lids.
“Trace,” she said, begging him for that little bit more that would… “Oh, God!” That’s when Trace suckled her clit one more time, and she flew off the precipice into another blinding release. “Trace!”
Marissa finally managed to catch her breath when her body stopped thrashing from the enormity of her orgasm. Thankfully, Trace had given her a brief reprieve, and she opened her eyes to see him studying her.
“I need to touch you,” she murmured, wanting desperately to touch him, to feel the sexy contours of his hardened body beneath her palms. To experience what she’d dreamed about for years.
“Is that right?” he asked teasingly as he crawled over her, brushing his upper body against hers as his lips quirked slightly.
“Yes,” she told him, arching her back so that his smooth chest slid against her breasts.
“And where do you plan to touch me?” he questioned, pressing his lips to hers.
“Everywhere.”
Marissa fought for the kiss he was denying her, aching for him. When he relented, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, she gave in to her greed, their tongues dueling, a sensual dance that was leading to the moment they’d both been waiting for.
As soon as her hands were free, Marissa wasted no time as she wrapped her arms around Trace, holding him close to her. His weight was comforting; the hard planes and angles of his sexy body reignited the heat that had engulfed her only moments before. Would she ever get enough of him?
She feared the answer to that question would be a resounding no. But she wasn’t worried. At least not at the moment. Right now, Marissa would take what he offered, bask in the inferno that replaced the blood in her veins. This was a dream come true, a fantasy unlike anything she’d ever expected, and yet here she was. The way Trace looked at her, his gaze molten as he stared down at her, seemingly studying her face, Marissa knew that this was a night she would never forget.
Even if tomorrow erased the pure pleasure of this one night, she would hold on to it for as long as her mind would allow, cherishing the only thing in her world that simply felt right.
“I could die a happy man right now,” Trace said, the words low, muffled almost. As though he didn’t want her to hear them.
Marissa wanted to beg him to make love to her, but she didn’t know how to phrase the request. Making love seemed like more than she could hope for, but this was significantly more than mere fucking. Even she knew that much. Didn’t mean she was foolish enough to let Trace know that.
She welcomed the distraction when Trace leaned down, his mouth meeting hers as she continued to outline the ripped muscle of his back and arms with her fingertips. The kiss melted her, leaving her a puddle beneath him. That’s when his statement made sense to her. She knew exactly what he was feeling because she felt it, too. There was no place she’d rather be than right here with this man. She didn’t need whispered promises; she just needed Trace. The man who had let down his guard the moment he had pulled her into his arms.
“I need you,” Trace mumbled against her lips. “Need you, baby.”
The coarse sound of his words sent an erotic shiver chasing over her skin. She dug her fingernails into his back, pulling him down to her as she thrust up, wanting to feel him inside of her. To her surprise, he didn’t move, only stared back at her.
Please don’t let him stop.
Marissa didn’t want Trace to overthink things, to regret what was happening between them. She couldn’t bear the thought of him retreating from her now.
“Please,” she whispered. “I want you inside me.”
His eyes rounded, the pupils dilating as he looked back at her. She saw heat and need. Glorious shards of desire were reflected in his nearly colorless irises.
Then he did move. A subtle shift that had his body separating from hers as he leaned forward, reaching. Marissa turned her head to the side to see him reaching into the drawer of his nightstand and retrieving … a condom.
Oh, thank God he had come prepared. She’d given plenty of thought to what would happen next, and yes, condoms had crossed her mind, but the niggling fear that neither of them had been fully prepared had been fleeting at best.
Trace knelt between her thighs, her fingertips grazing the coarse hair on his thighs as she watched him sheathe his rigid cock with the condom. There was a buzzing in her ears that signaled an urgency that she needed to recognize. She wanted him. Needed him.
When he came back down over her, Marissa once again wrapped him in her arms, pulling him close even though he tried to keep the brunt of his weight off her. She wanted more. All of him. She didn’t care.
Crushing her mouth to his, Marissa slid one hand into the short silky hair at the back of his head, holding him to her. When he shifted again, she felt the heat of him between her legs, the hardened length of his erection settling against her, sliding effortlessly through her folds.
She wanted to beg, to plead for him to hurry because she wasn’t sure she could wait a minute longer. But this was Trace. A man with infinite patience, and she got the feeling that if she begged, he’d make her wait because the teasing would likely undo her.
“Marissa,” Trace moaned when he broke the kiss, staring down at her, their faces close, their noses nearly touching.
“Oh,” Marissa moaned and bucked when Trace easily slid into her without preamble. It was a delicious, mind-numbing friction that stole her breath and obliterated her brain cells.
Trace’s body tensed, his back rigid beneath her hands, his chest muscles bulging between them as he groaned. “Fuck.”
She liked the sound of his reaction. He was just as affected as she was. Sex had never been this good for her. Not once. She couldn’t help but wonder whether that was because the men she’d chosen to be with hadn’t been as skilled as Trace or if it had been something as simple as chemistry that was off. Or maybe it was the love she felt for this man that made it perfect.
Whatever it was, the connection, not only the phy
sical one, that she had with Trace had skyrocketed this moment to the top of her list. The most intense moment of her entire life.
When he didn’t move long seconds later, Marissa pushed her hips up again, wanting him to go deeper. An answering growl was all she received before he crushed his mouth to hers as he settled closer to her, his forearm supporting his weight beside her head.
And then he shifted once more, one arm moving before he lifted her leg, holding her thigh higher against his hip as he began to thrust inside her. Breaking the kiss was her only option because her breath was rushing in and out of her lungs as the blinding pleasure took her by surprise. He started out slow, his hips gliding gently against hers, but the tempo quickly increased until Trace was pounding into her, flooding her with delicious, foreign sensations.
“Trace.” She wasn’t sure if she was pleading or if saying his name simply made her feel better. Either way, he moved closer, if that was even possible, although he didn’t break his stride, continuing to drive deeper.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked in a rush of words.
“God yes,” she replied. “So good. Don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.” Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, the tingling in her core intensified.
“Awww, fuck,” Trace groaned. “That’s it, baby. I can feel your pussy tighten around me.”
Marissa couldn’t focus on what he was saying because her body had taken over and allowed her mind a moment of peace. Letting go with this man just felt right, and she wanted to enjoy every single second.
The tingle intensified, growing stronger, consuming her as the heat bloomed in her core, radiating outward until she was fully engulfed. “Trace!”
His name had barely escaped her lips when she shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her, doubling in strength as Trace held her tighter, fucked her harder. He didn’t stop, and another orgasm built right behind the first, this one no less intense.
“Fuck, baby,” Trace groaned. “I’m gonna come and I want you right there with me, Marissa.”
The way he said her name, as though he were pulling her back into the moment, had Marissa’s body reigniting. She stared up into eyes that had haunted her dreams for as long as she could remember.
“Come for me,” Trace commanded. “Come for me, Marissa!”
Riding the gentle waves of her orgasm as it built once more, Marissa drove her hips up against his, meeting every sweetly punishing thrust of his hips as his cock tunneled in and out of her.
It only took a moment for her to be blinded once again by pleasure. It slammed into her, not quite as powerful as the last time but enough to knock the wind out of her. Screaming out his name, Marissa threw her head back as she came.
“Fuck yes,” Trace growled from above her. “So fucking beautiful.” And with that, his body went still, a sweet, warm pulse inside of her the signal of his release.
And as she tightened her hold on him, refusing to let go, Marissa knew that no matter how strong she thought she was, how tough she tried to pretend to be, Trace Kogan had irrevocably changed her.
Twenty-Seven
Morning came, and Trace found himself once again staring at the ceiling, watching the fan blades turn around and around. The difference between last night and this morning was… Well, his entire world had changed, that was what was different.
Marissa was sleeping peacefully against him, her head resting on his chest, his arm around her as she half straddled him with her body. It was the most at peace he’d felt in far too long. Holding her through the night while she slept had made his restless night worth every moment he’d spent with his eyes open.
Trace knew he should’ve slept. He needed to sleep because he had to be alert and on top of his game so that they could address this threat to Marissa head on, but he couldn’t. He would admit that nothing usually scared him. Nothing. He’d willingly walk into danger if it was for the greater good, but when it came to the woman in his arms … everything about her scared him.
The way she got to him so easily. How desperate he was to protect her from the unknown. How much he feared he would lose if something happened to her. Yeah, those were the demons he was facing this morning, and he had tried to erase them with fits of sleep through the night, but never had it seemed to help.
He’d been right. The danger they faced had increased tenfold now that he’d had the pleasure of being sheathed within the fierce confines of her beautiful body.
Trace wasn’t a man without feeling. He might be hardened thanks to the life he led and the work he did, but it didn’t mean he didn’t feel. He did. Sometimes too much. For instance, when it came to his family … Trace would go to any length to protect them, and he knew they’d do the same for him. He’d grown up in a household that was made up of more than just his siblings. He’d had an extended family from the beginning because of Bryce and TJ. It wasn’t something that anyone questioned, but Trace knew that RT, Colby, Clay, Evan, Tanner, Austin, Kira, and Dominic would lay down their lives for him, the same as his own brothers and sister would.
And he would easily do the same for them.
But with Marissa… Yeah, she was different. Trace would go to the ends of the earth to ensure her safety. And if it meant he could keep her in his bed, in his arms, he’d go even further than that. And that fucking scared the shit out of him.
It was one thing to desire a woman. And that was something he knew a thing or two about. But what Marissa stirred inside of him was significantly more than desire. He was tempted to say it bordered on love and not in a familial capacity, either.
So what did that mean for them? It was a question he’d pondered for the last hour, wishing like hell he could focus on what he needed to focus on rather than contemplating the meaning of love at a time when it wasn’t important.
Marissa stirred in his arms and he turned his head to look at her. Her golden hair fanned out around her, the lustrous shine intensified by the rays of the sun peering through the window and pouring over the bed. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Trace knew he needed to get the day started before he procrastinated for too long. There were things he needed to do, and the first order of business was to call RT and determine what time he’d be there.
After his shower.
Twenty minutes later, Trace was ambling out of the bathroom. He glanced over at the bed to see Marissa was gone, and an odd pang plunged through his chest when he saw the bed empty. Trying to shake off the feeling, he headed to the kitchen only to find it empty, as well. He stopped and listened. Shower. She’d opted to do the same thing this morning.
Disappointment lashed brutally at his insides as he wondered why she hadn’t just joined him.
However, knowing she was there by the sound of the water rumbling through the exposed pipes soothed him somewhat as he made his way to the coffeepot. Without conscious thought, he got the pot brewing as he mentally formulated his agenda for the day.
Grabbing his cell phone, he shot RT a text, letting him know he was available whenever he wanted to drop by. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed, alerting him of an incoming text.
On my way now.
Trace tried to hold back the sigh of relief. As much as he wanted to return to bed, to pull Marissa from the shower and bury himself in her body once more—for the rest of the day if possible—he knew he needed to focus. And thinking about Marissa’s oldest brother was the fastest and easiest way to deflate a hard-on.
□«»□«»□«»□
Ryan dropped his cell phone onto his lap and then punched in the code that would allow him to scan his fingerprint on the screen just outside his truck window so that the gate to Trace’s underground parking garage would open. He remembered a time he’d been irritated to have to go through so much hassle to get into the damn fortress, but knowing that his sister was safe on the other side of the nearly impenetrable iron gate made him breathe a little easier.
Once inside, he watched in his rearview mirror until the gate closed sec
urely behind him before heading to one of the spots closest to the entrance. Forgoing the elevator, because he always felt a little claustrophobic in the damn things, Ryan headed up the two flights of stairs to Trace’s.
Finding the door locked, he banged on the steel and then stepped back as he waited to be granted entrance. A moment later, Marissa opened the door for him.
“Hey,” she said, a small smile forming on her pretty face. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a month.
“Hey back,” he greeted as he stepped through the door and pulled her against him in a brief sideways hug. “How’re you?”
“Good.”
She didn’t sound good, but he wasn’t going to mention it. Considering all the hell going on around her, it was to be expected. He knew she was probably tired. Both from physical exhaustion as well as mental. He’d spent the better part of the previous afternoon—before his sit-down with Max Adorite—listening to Casper, Bryce, and TJ let loose on him regarding the clusterfuck that had become her life.
He didn’t need the bitch session to remind him just how much they had failed her.
“What’s up?” Trace called from the kitchen, catching Ryan’s attention.
“Please tell me you’ve got coffee over there.”
“Ready and waiting.”
Ryan thanked the coffee gods as he headed toward the bar that separated the living area from the kitchen. Without waiting for an invitation, he plopped down on a stool as he watched Trace pour a mug and slide it his way.
It didn’t get past him that there was an awkward tension lingering in the air. Nor did he miss the fact that Trace was walking around without a shirt on—although, to be fair, that wasn’t all that unusual for Trace. Ryan glanced between Marissa and Trace, but they both managed to mask their expressions well.
Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) Page 24