Men of Danger

by Lora Leigh

  Sucking in an excited gust of air, she curled her hand around the thick width and slid her fist down the pulsing flesh. Setting her lips on his straining throat, she flattened her tongue against his collarbone, tasted the thin film of dampness coating his taut, square shoulder. “You’re beautiful, Zach.”

  She thought he purred, like a lion being “petted.”

  She had never held something like him in her hand. So . . . vigorous. Her wandering thumb encountered a silky wetness at the tip of his staff as she circled her tongue around a small, delicious brown nipple.

  His hips began an agitated swivel, the moves sliding his cock inside her grasp, and almost collapsing from arousal, Paige moved her hips suggestively, too, responding to him by instinct, murmuring, “Please.”

  In a startlingly quick move, he flattened her on the bed. His weight bore down on hers as he smoothed his tongue into her ear, feverishly licking, going out of control, his voice demanding and utterly sexy.

  “Want this.” He fondled her weeping sex with his fingers, both teasing and tantalizing her with quick little plunges of the middle one. “Want this like I do.”

  A splayed hand skimmed down her side to slide into the small of her back and crush one buttock in his grip, hauling her up against him.

  His large, demanding penis ground into the apex of her thighs, and she sobbed with need. He was so hot everywhere, his hands burning, his mouth rough and delicious on her face.

  Cupping both her ass cheeks now, he began a soothing massage that ground her against his pulsing length, electrifying her senses. “I could do this all night,” he ground out.

  “Oh, please don’t!” Gasping, she clasped his hair and feverishly ran her tongue up his neck.

  He chuckled— deeply, excitingly.

  His hands continued to mold her, goading her with the biting press of his hardness, and when he lifted his head to stare into her eyes, he looked very hot and very bothered. She’d never imagined she could incite a man to such bleak hunger.

  “Tell me what you want from me, Paige.” As he spoke, his hips gave a tantalizing nudge to hers. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

  Her answer lodged up in her throat as she opened her legs wider and twined them around his body, a move that locked him between her thighs.

  Panting, she clung to his neck and said, “I want you.”

  “All of me?” He purposely rolled his hips against hers, prodding her sopping, oversensitized sex with what he could give her. “All of me? Say you want all of me.”

  He was enormous.

  “Yes,” she gasped, “yes. All of you.”

  For three wild, debilitating seconds, he held her hips in his hands and only rubbed against her, his cock glossing across her tender slick folds, and they moaned in unison.

  “This, too?” he asked gruffly, darkly. “You want this part of me, too?” He bent and bit the shell of her ear. “I want inside you.”

  “Yes. Now. Please!”

  He lunged in the direction of the condom basket, tore at the first foil packet he found, and before Paige could even determine which kind of rubber he’d slipped on, he returned.

  His sinewy, sweat-coated body blocked out all sights, his haggard breaths all sounds. Reaching down, he snared her ankles and hooked her legs around him, settling between them. “Don’t,” he said, “for the love of God close your eyes.”

  She kept them open, helplessly clinging to his famished green gaze. He thrust once.

  “Paige.”

  Relief ripped through her, and with it came the staggering pressure of having his hot, wide length buried inside her. She purred from beyond her throat, fighting against the urge to toss her head, swim in the sensation.

  He thrust twice.

  “Baby.”

  Her body undulated. She mewled with bliss.

  On his third thrust— one that was overwhelmingly deep and made her catch back a sob— it was Zach who closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, saying, “God.”

  ZACH DIDN’T KNOW who took whom here. He only knew their bellies pressed, their chests pressed, she was soft and warm and quivering, his cock was buried to the hilt inside of her, and he was ready to detonate.

  He struggled to control the urge to pump, thrust, ram harder and deeper until they passed out, and instead sucked in big gulps of air in an effort to regain his control. They’d been masochists as teens. Had loved drawing out the pleasure, loved wanting each other until their pleasure coated each other’s hands.

  This was her first time. Hell if he would let himself shatter this fast.

  “This feels wonderful.” Her clouded, lust-filled eyes searched his face with amazement.

  This. Flesh to flesh. Naked. Like they used to be. But this time, he was embedded inside her.

  “I can feel you beating in me,” she murmured.

  Swamped by the sweet pain of her confession, Zach latched onto her mouth for sustenance, to anchor himself, to stop his world from spinning.

  “And I can feel you.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Tight and warm and wrapped around me.” Realizing he could be crushing her, he eased some of his weight off her without breaking contact, shifting to his side a bit. “You relished getting naked with me. Every time I touched you, you came for me.”

  She shuddered. Her middle finger stroked his glistening bottom lip. “And you? For me?”

  His cock jerked inside her. “God, yes, always for you.”

  Tentatively she curved her hand behind his ear and tunneled all five fingers through his hair. God, she used to do that. Run her hands all over his hair, his neck, his nape.

  His lids drifted shut. Her warm, gliding skin slid along his shoulders, her seeking fingers venturing down his damp back muscles. And he kept his eyes closed, shaken by the gift of her caress, because nothing, ever, had come close to the bliss of Paige loving him.

  Only Paige could make a touch, a feathery kiss . . . Rock. His. World. Like this.

  “You’re shaking.”

  He swallowed thickly, his erection pulsing madly inside of her, his muscles taut and quivering for release. “No.”

  “You are. Why are you shaking?”

  He locked his arms more firmly around her, hating his body, hating that it wouldn’t stop vibrating. “I don’t know: you feel good.”

  She set both hands on his chest and kissed his neck, his ear, his jaw. Sweetly. So sweetly. Her breath fanned out across his flesh, her lips moving softly, her tongue lapping at his sweat-coated flesh.

  Into his ear, as she lay there, utterly still, utterly possessed, she breathed, “Move in me.”

  He almost choked on his breath as he did— his orgasm there, there, threatening to splinter him to the bones.

  He slid in deep, fighting the seductive pull of her inner muscles and the delicate torture of those fluttering hands.

  He manacled her wrists and forced her arms above her head, ramming into her with mind-jarring force. She cried out, her legs tightening around his hips.

  “Every little part of you that you disliked,” he said in a rumble, bending his head to take a good, hard look at her, “I will take with my mouth until you love it again.”

  How did she feel? Seeing those beautiful marred legs, those beautiful thighs, those hips, abused and marked with her pain. He stroked the scar between their bodies, tenderly fingered its raised edges.

  She responded with a mewl, not embarrassed now, but aroused by his touch, her sweet, juicy little sex muscles clenching and unclenching around his cock. Her skin was dewy with sweat, tendrils of hair clinging to her temples. She was tight, so wet, so hot, driving him so crazy. He thrust into her again. Both their moans tore into the silence, filling it with ecstasy.

  Extracting himself from her and stretching up on one arm to gain leverage, he trailed one hand up the inside of her arm until their palms met. Their fingers laced. “I’ll lick every inch of you so you’ll know what I think of your body. There will be no doubt in your mind what I think of it, how sexy I thi
nk you are.” He ducked his head to her heaving breasts and roughly, hungrily, with lips and teeth and tongue, gorged on one puckered, red-swollen nipple.

  She let out a whimper that tickled down his spine as he suckled and gasped when he lightly bit. “Don’t ever hide from me, ever,” he growled.

  She wiggled restlessly against his body, goading him with her hips and sending a bolt of lust straight up to his head. “Fill me up again.”

  He buried his face between the rising curves of her breasts, dreading he was perilously close to losing control. His cock was a burning torch and Paige fit him like a glove, her sexy little pussy excruciatingly snug and welcome.

  “Zach. Do it. I beg you.”

  “I won’t last.”

  He cocked his head to soak the tip of her other breast, swirling his tongue across the rigid pink pearl. He suctioned, the tension in the center of his body heightening at the way she thrust her chest up to him.

  “Don’t. Don’t last.” Her sobbing gasps made him impossibly harder. “I’m so excited, I’m hurting.”

  Everything . . . everything hurts . . .

  We hurt because we want each other, Paige.

  Groaning, he tested the tender folds between her legs with his fingers, found the channel drenched. His balls contracted with need. A low mewling sound exited her lips when he withdrew from inside her.

  Panting, she folded her knees until the heels of her feet were firmly planted on the mattress, opening her up even more. She looped her arms around his neck, holding him to her. “Zach,” she urged.

  Setting his teeth and striving for control, he established himself in the clinch of her thighs, bracing his weight up on his elbows. Their chests heaved as he gazed into her lust-filled blue eyes.

  “You wanted this?” He forced half of his thickened length into the gripping heat of her pussy, inch by inch being tugged and swallowed by her. “Paige? Did you?”

  “More.”

  He thrust fully into her. They cried out together. The pleasure was beyond anything in this realm, intense, consuming.

  Aroused to the point of madness, he began to pump for real, losing the battle, losing himself. “Give yourself to me,” he pleaded. He kissed the arching column of her neck, using his tongue, his teeth. “Let go, Paige. Let go.”

  Her nails bit into his shoulders as she held on, the bed creaking faster, her body moving wildly to keep up with his. “Zach.”

  “Yes, God, yes. Give me everything.”

  “Zach!” Her exclamation carried to his ears.

  And still he pumped. “Am I too big for you, am I hurting you?”

  “No, no, don’t stop.” Her hips swiveled, allowing deeper access, intensifying the pleasure of his long, penetrating entries. “Oh, oh.”

  She raked her fingers down his back, her nails biting into his ass, urging him farther into the titillating clenches of her pussy, drawing out his pleasure with compact, delicious milking motions.

  Zach opened his mouth over hers, delivering a mind-blowing kiss, all the while knowing he wasn’t taking her. Paige was taking him. Oh, damn, she was.

  Sliding and sliding into her silken heat, he was gone, past the point of stopping. He trailed his lips across her temple and plunged his tongue into her ear, his voice rough and commanding. “Say . . . my name.”

  “Zachary.”

  He groaned, pumped. Bliss surged through him, pulsing, fiery, twitching him taut. “Paige.”

  “Zach.”

  “You have no idea, no idea.”

  Her head rolled restlessly over the pillow and her back arched. The way her body thrust with his demolished him like an avalanche.

  “Ahh, God!” He wrapped her in his arms and increased his pace, fucking together, fucking deeper, faster, harder. “Come with me. Come to heaven with me.”

  She screamed. He bucked. And they came in a long, sweeping, exhausting orgasm.

  CHAPTER 5

  PAIGE FELT POWERFUL. Like she could do anything, lift a building or sing opera or fly.

  Tucking herself under the covers, she eyed the reason her toes were still tingling and her heart was soaring, appreciating the sight of Zach’s glossy tanned backside as he went to clean up. Her nerves quivered at the strong flex of his buttocks as he walked.

  Zach.

  She felt light-headed and weak, and her hands itched with anxiousness to feel him again. As he emerged from the bathroom and fetched his guns from the chair, he plucked up his jeans from where they’d fallen, as well.

  For a moment, she dreaded he’d slip them on— ergo, she must dress, too— but instead he draped them across the back of a chair. A bevy of butterflies fluttered inside her as he returned to her naked. Somber, almost shy, and gloriously, toetinglingly naked.

  She sat up a little, committing his face to memory; his inky hair rumpled from her hands, his lips fattened and reddened from her mouth, the hint of a beard shadowing his jaw.

  He set his guns on the nightstand and plopped down next to her, and her mind raced with wishes and thoughts. Would he kiss her again? Lick her? Bite her? Cuddle?

  Aww, he cuddled. And kissed her forehead, her nose, lingered on her lips as one arm encircled her shoulders. “Sweet. You’re so sweet, Paige.”

  Suppressing a sigh, Paige went willingly as he propped his head against the mirror and pinned her to his side. “So we’d never done that before?” she whispered up at him, feeling exquisite and wonderful.

  Smiling tenderly, he swiped the pad of his thumb across the bridge of her nose. “In my dreams.”

  Hers was a wistful smile. She couldn’t resist touching him, couldn’t help but notice how he couldn’t resist trailing his fingers down her arm, either. “Why do you carry two guns?”

  He used his free hand to lift one, then the other. “Your baby. Your backup.”

  She reached out to stroke the cool, hard metal of the one he held out. The smaller gun, not quite black but obscure and gleaming. “Is it . . . loaded?”

  “Yeah. But the safety’s on, see?” He showed her the little catch, then bounced the gun in one big hand. “Here. You’re curious?” She nodded, curled her hand around the grip as Zach trailed her onto his lap. She said, “It’s heavy.”

  His arms enveloped her from behind. He seemed fascinated by a spot behind her ear and teased it lightly with his lips. “Do you want to know how to use one? I could teach you.”

  She thought of how safe she felt with him, and of how unsafe she would feel tomorrow . . . next week . . . without him. And nodded. “Teach me.” Teach me to kill if I need to. She glanced past her shoulder as he gently pried the gun away. “I’m a photographer, I should have good aim,” she said.

  His brows rose— his smile so utterly charming, she felt it tickle the bottom of her feet. He set the gun aside. “A photographer.”

  She shifted on his lap and stroked his hard face with her fingertips, smiling in return. “And why is that amusing, may I ask?”

  Her thumb stroked the plump flesh of his bottom lip first, and when his smile faded, she leaned in and kissed him. Kissed him as though that firm, ardent mouth were hers. He clamped a hand on her nape and held her to him, making the kiss longer, drawing it out more. “It’s not,” he rasped. “Amusing. It’s perfect. You always had an eye for spotting beauty in things.”

  An eye for him, she was sure, and goodness, her camera would love him. Would capture the strength in his jawline, the striking black of his eyebrows and lashes. She swung more fully to face him and leisurely traced the scars at his ribs. Even those seemed beautiful, poignant somehow, sleek and pale against his sun-kissed skin. “Ever been shot?”

  One large hand heavily petted the top of her head, his fingers leisurely untangling her hair. “Not yet.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “You sound like you expect to be.”

  He smiled a slow, languorous smile, one that said It’s my job.

  “And this?” She fingered the longer scar, felt him stir against her at her caress.

 
; Both his hands delved into her hair, fingers stroking her scalp. “Unfortunate encounter when I patrolled. Stab wounds, five of them, punctured a lung, it was hell.”

  A string of goose bumps rushed down the length of her arms. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “I wanted it.”

  Her eyes widened in outrage. “You wanted it?”

  “I was fucked up.”

  Touched by his frankness, she ran two fingertips across that mobile mouth as he spoke, her eyes becoming heavy. “Talk to me.” She filled her hands with his taut jaw and leaned closer, inhaled the mist of his breath. “Your voice.” I want to take it in me, wrap it around my body, I want to . . . to hear.

  He was quiet at first, no sound audible in the room but the rustle of the sheets as their bodies adjusted. They snuggled deeper under the covers, her body sliding down the length of his until they touched head to toe.

  Then he spoke, his voice a velvet wave, rolling thick and dense across her nerves, sending a melting sensation down her legs. “The first time I saw you, it had been raining. I’d just been admitted and was coming out of the principal’s office, and you were rushing down the hall, trying not to be late.”

  His hands caressed along her body and his voice, his words, reached a thirsty, intricate part of her that seemed to greedily cling to each one. “You were soaked, your books almost slipping from your grasp. And then you saw me. And you stopped. For the longest time you just stared at me. And I stared back and thought, ‘God, is there a prettier sight than this girl?’ ” There was a soft silence, then his hot, wet tongue stroked heatedly into her ear. “I wanted to lick you dry.”

  Lying against six feet two inches of this man, Paige could too easily picture the devastating eighteen-year-old Zach must have been, standing tall and gorgeous in the middle of a school hall, staring at her with those weakening eyes of his. She quietly marveled, “I must have thought, ‘God, please let me have this gorgeous green-eyed boy all to myself.’ ”

  He chuckled, and it was a throaty, humming sound that wrapped around her like a blanket. “You had me at ‘Oh. You must be the new transfer.’ ”