It takes her a millisecond for the shock to fade and for her to respond, but once she does, we meet in a savage union of frenzied hands gripping, mouths taking, bodies begging to join in every way possible.
Beaux weaves her fingers in my hair and holds tight as she tears her mouth momentarily from mine. “I thought you were pissed at me.”
I kiss her fiercely, all tongue and teeth and possession, before I respond. “I’m furious. But I want you more.” It’s as true a statement as I’ve ever given, the moment stripping away any superfluous words. “You came back to me.”
“I’ll always come back to you,” she says, her voice breathless but resolute. And a part of me feels a tiny iota of relief from her words before my senses are shaken and upended when a moan falls from her mouth as my hand finds its way down her pants and I use my one foot to knock her legs wider so that I can have better access. I may be completely consumed with her kiss and taken with the possession of her touch, but there is no mistaking her desire as my fingers run over the tight strip of curls. Her gasp fills the space between us as I part her cleft to find her heated and wet for me.
Jesus Christ. If I didn’t want her enough already, feeling her push her hips into my hands makes that want turn into a need that somehow I feared wouldn’t be satisfied anytime soon. We’ve built up to this moment for so long that I know as hard as I try to hold on to control, as much as I try to slow down, every nerve in my body is at such a riotous fever pitch that it’s going to be impossible not to succumb to the urgency.
Then Beaux shocks me back to reality by saying, “I need you in me right now.”
And that’s what I want more than anything, to be buried in her. Yes, my hand is already between the lips of her pussy, but I need more of her, want all of her, naked and accessible.
“Tanner.” My name leaves her lips as a plea, a moan, and everything in between when she releases her hold on me and moves to help tug her shorts down. But just her shorts aren’t enough. I want all of her clothes off. She must feel the same way because, without a word, we begin an awkward dance toward the bed, an unspoken race to see which of us can get undressed quicker as we cover the few feet of distance. And just as she has her bra off so that we are both completely naked, I grab her from behind and pull her back against my chest.
As desperate as I am to bury myself in her, I also need to slow this down just a bit. Last time she came hard and quick, and as desperate as I am to do the same, I know that this will be our first second time that now holds meaning, and so I don’t want to make it any less than it could be by making it quick. Our labored breathing fills the air as my hands cup her breasts and I scrape the stubble on my chin across the curve of her shoulder and up to her ear. The sound of her sighing out my name is so fucking hot, it’s an aphrodisiac all in itself.
“Beaux.” Her name is all I say before I lace openmouthed kisses down the line of her neck, tasting salt on my tongue, while her perfume and the smell of her arousal assault my senses in an oddly arousing combination as I work my way to the other side of her neck. “I’ve had so many thoughts about what I was going to do with you once we had sex again. How I was going to slide between your thighs, tease you with my tongue until you were breathless and spent. Make you beg for more… but that game’s on me, isn’t it? Because right now I’m so goddamn primed, I’d beg, borrow, and steal to take you, and I think that’s just what you want. For me to take without asking, because that’s what you’re used to. Well, think again…,” I murmur in her ear, and leave the last word hanging as my hands slide down her abdomen once again to the pleasure between her thighs.
The hitch in her breath and the voluntary lift of one foot onto the bed so that I have better access tell me she feels this too, wants this too. “How do you like it, Beaux? Do you like when I slide my fingers right here, rub a little harder… faster… or do you like when I bury my fingers in your pussy and stroke right here?”
And I do just that, dip my two fingers inside her so that she tightens around me at the same time as her hands dig into my forearms when the sensations swamp her.
And I love feeling the intense reaction, take pride in knowing I can make her stop everything, and break her concentration with just my touch. Then I curl my fingers and rake them over the interior patch of nerves again as my other hand slides around her waist just in time for her knees to weaken. There is something so intimate about the moment, so real, that it throws me momentarily and causes her to lean back so that my cheek rests against hers.
“More,” she moans, and I begin to manipulate her sex again, fingers on the inside, thumb on her clit. Her head lolls back on my shoulder and her hips jut forward, a physical command telling me to give her more. I work my fingers in and out of her, desire growing, my thumb adding friction on her clit, her own writhing motion showing me just how she wants me to bring her to the cusp. With each thrust of her pelvis, she’s rubbing her ass against my rock-hard dick in the ultimate temptation I’m sure as hell going to take advantage of.
Her fingernails dig deeper into my skin, an indication that she’s almost there, so I keep manipulating her sex. “Argh. God,” she cries, hips bucking against my hand, hands trying to push and pull my forearms all at the same time as the pleasurable pain overwhelms her body and annihilates her senses. The sound of her coming undone is enough to make every part of me ache like a man on fire walking knowingly into the flames.
And I was so wrong, it’s comical. I thought I could take this slow, calm this ravenous hunger inside me, but the minute she comes, hips writhing, lips calling my name like a plea and a curse all at the same time, I lose it. Fuck slowing down. We can do slow all damn day later… but right now? Right now I’m a man desperate and ready to give in to the desire owning his every nerve.
She rides out her orgasm with my teeth nipping her shoulder and hands holding her hips tight so that she’s forced to feel everything pulsing through her. But the minute I feel her body sag, muscles start to relax, I spin Beaux around in my arms and push her down onto the bed. She scoots back up the mattress, eyes wild with desire under heavy lust-laden lids that call to me, tempt me, dare me to come and take what she’s offering. And there’s no question, I’m definitely ready to take.
Lust and greed hit me in a potent combination as I stand at the foot of the bed and take her in. As much as I could stand here all day long and drink in the lines of her body, the dark pink of her nipples against her bronze skin, I’ll savor it later. Much later. I’m already way past the point of no return.
So I kneel on the bed, which causes the mattress springs to squeak beneath my weight, my tongue darting out to wet my bottom lip in anticipation. As I crawl between her parted thighs, the urge to slide my tongue along her sex and taste her is so all-consuming, but at the same time, all I can think about is what she’s going to feel like wrapped around me.
But what man can resist a pussy when it’s framed by legs like hers?
On my hands and knees I give in to what I want and dip my head down so that my tongue slides just along the seam of her lips. There is nothing that turns me on more than the scent and taste of a woman aroused, and Beaux is… holy shit between her taste on my tongue and her moan filling my ears, I can’t hold back anymore.
I lick my way up and down one more time with my hands holding her inner thighs apart as she squirms at the sensation of me dipping my tongue into her. And I’d stay here all night if I could, but as my rock-hard cock rubs against the mattress beneath me, my body reminds me how much it’s being neglected in the moment. Giving in to my own needs, I rise up on my knees with my hands still on her thighs and meet her eyes.
And I know we’ve had sex before, but there is something that feels very different this time around. There is no alcohol, no ignorance over who the other is, no feigning that this is a one-night stand I will never see again. No. This time as I press her thighs forward so I can slide painstakingly slowly into her, I don’t notice her lips part or her chest hitch from her slow bre
aths. Instead, I watch the pleasure wash over her as her eyes roll partially back in rapture before returning to mine with emotions swimming in them I’m not sure I want to process.
So I don’t.
Instead, I bury myself all the way to the hilt, all trains of thought overwhelmed by the physical sensations, and all sense of self lost because there is no me and no her; no, there’s just us. A feral groan fills the room; even though it’s my voice, I don’t even realize I’ve emitted it when I start that slow, slick slide out so that just the tip of my dick is allowed the pleasure of her. Talk about torturing myself, but the little sound she makes begging for me not to stop is worth it. So I give her what she wants. I use my hand to hold my dick still, rub the ridge of my crest up with an added pressure over that sweet spot I can feel just inside her. I tease and taunt her like she’s been doing to me since we started this way back on night one, but this… This is just so much more.
Once she starts lifting her hips and squeezing tightly around me, I have to hope my willpower will hold long enough so that I can give her what she needs. Because I know once I bury myself in her, I won’t be able to stop the freight train of desire bearing down on me.
When I look into her eyes again, there is no mistaking it as she nears her orgasm. I watch her come undone – bit by bit, moan after moan, muscle by muscle. And I know she hasn’t finished coming yet, but fucking hell, I feel like a vise is wrapped around my balls, that deep, sweet ache so damn intense, my fingers begin to dig into the toned flesh of her thighs to try and ward off the carnal need to plunder.
But it’s futile.
Because the first time I look down and watch her pussy lips stretch around the thickness of my shaft as I slide out, the most delicate of flesh bringing me the most intense of pleasure, my control snaps. I press harder on her thighs to give me an unhindered view and the access to take as I please as I rear back and thrust into her until I bottom out. Then I groan out in ecstasy, balls buried so damn deep that I can feel her warm wetness coating me and turning me on something fierce. I grind against her, my dick as deep as it can possibly be, and it feels so good, I let my head loll back as I begin to really move.
The room fills with the sound of sex and pleasure, pleas and moans, passion unleashed and needs unfurled. And my God… talk about drugging a man into a coma. Everything about her forces me to concentrate so fucking hard on the moment that I’m losing so much more than a physical release to her.
Her muscles begin to pulse around me as the sounds of skin against skin heightens everything about the moment. I’m fixated on getting us both there, hips thrusting, fingers gripping her, and neck taut with my impending release.
And then the bed frame starts squeaking with each and every drive in to the point that even though I’m so pent up, so addled with need for release, it’s so damn loud that when I look down and meet Beaux’s eyes, I can see her laughing.
“We’re breaking the bed,” she pants out with a soft laugh that ends on a sharp mewl as I grind my hips into her again, sparks gathering at the base of my spine and readying for the onslaught of sensation just beyond the horizon.
But the bed’s not the only thing that seems to be breaking; I think a tiny little piece of my heart just did too. There’s no way in hell I’m telling her that, though. I hide behind the thought by flashing a devil-may-care smirk that lasts long enough to catch her eyes lighting up before I return to concentrating on getting us back in the moment, squeaky spring and all.
It doesn’t take long to propel us onto that edge where lust and desire reign, want and need merge as one. With our bodies still connected in the most primal of ways, I lean down and slant my mouth over hers, the action driving me farther into her addictive pussy when I thought I couldn’t go any deeper. And with my mouth on hers, her every breath mingling with my own exhalations, both my tongue and cock savoring and demanding all at the same time, I coax her over the precipice, swallow her moans as she falls, and enjoy the rhythm of her muscles as she contracts around me.
And then she does this little thing, this lift of her hips in a motion chock-full of greed that tells me she wants more to prolong her release as long as she can, and the action, the motion, of her gripping me in intervals pulls me into the vortex of ecstasy.
I crash over the edge, muscles tensing, dick pulsing, thoughts annihilated by the white-hot heat streaking through me and exploding in bursts of warmth. I can’t weather the pleasure with my mouth to hers, can’t handle the rush of fiery heat followed by drowsy bliss that courses on a pumped-up kick in my veins, so I rear up on my knees, eyes closed tight, and her name a broken cry in the air as I empty myself.
Our labored breathing is all I can hear when I look down at her, a half smirk on my lips at the satisfaction on her face – flushed cheeks, lips swollen from mine, eyes hazy – before pulling ever so slowly out of her, immediately wanting to do it all over again.
Well, after I recover some, because damn… all guys might need a recovery time but this, her, what just happened, have drained me in every sense of the word. And it’s a new feeling, to be drained emotionally, physically, sexually, and not want to lie back and close my eyes and succumb to the exhaustion like usual. I don’t want to at all. I want to lie down next to her, prop my head in my hand, and admire her, talk to her, and just breathe her in.
Shit. I think the paradox this time around is that, rather than my slipping down the slippery slope from lust to love, Beaux and I just experienced something unique to us. We bonded during the adrenaline-fueled action of the raid, the worrisome fear over each other’s safety, and then the agonizing wait to see each other face-to-face. Hell yeah, we bonded, so I’m allowed to be a little in awe of her right now.
Then again, I also try to justify that it’s just being with someone almost every waking hour that has me concerned with her safety, but I’m not real big on lying, so why lie to myself? That lightness in my head could be because of more than just great sex. It could be because Beaux’s starting to mean something to me despite the mere month or so we’ve known each other.
But the time isn’t right, so I push the thoughts away, shove the little pinpricks warning me to slow the fuck down away, and tell myself to enjoy the moment and the warm skin of the gorgeous woman in front of me. I settle down beside her, head propped on my hand, quiet my thoughts, and enjoy the moment.
Her hair is all over the place in stark contrast to the white sheets, but at the same time the fact that it’s falling out of her ponytail softens the sharp lines of her face. She meets my eyes, and I love that even though she’s so goddamn confident everywhere else in whatever this is between us, she appears shy right now. Her cheeks flush even more, and she averts her eyes before scooting into me so that the curves of our bodies fit perfectly into each other’s.
It’s a reflex that my arm wraps around her and pulls her tighter, our lips meeting in a soft sigh of a kiss that says the moment was so much more than solely physical, and yet neither of us wants to address it yet. Because physical attraction is acceptable, but feeling like this, the intensity with which I feel it, is extraordinary.
At least that’s what I hope she’s saying when her tongue meets mine in a soft dance of tenderness and acceptance. We cement our connection this way for a few moments, all hushed words and soft laughter. Hands smoothing over heated skin and heartbeats slowing down.
We settle into such a relaxed silence in the comfort of each other’s arms – so very different than what happened after the last time we had sex – that it kills me when I have to bring up the inevitable.
“We need to work,” I remind her softly, speaking of turning in the written reports that back up my live broadcast from earlier as well as the feeling I have that once I check my phone, there will be messages from Rafe about another live spot.
“I believe you just worked me perfectly fine.” Her laugh is muffled, and I can feel the heat of it from where her lips are pressed against my sternum. The sensation sends a pulse of desire straigh
t to my lower belly.
“And I have no problem working you again.”
“Oh you better plan on it. Again and again,” she says, and the suggestiveness that laces her tone is such a damn turn-on because it gives me that little ego boost to know she enjoyed what just happened as much as I did.
“I do like the again part… but this squeaky bed poses a problem.”
“Squeaky wheel gets the oil.”
“Squeak all you want, because I have no problem oiling you up.” My mind goes in pure male fashion from oil to dipstick to lube jobs and the correlation to sex.
“Hmm,” she murmurs as she leans her head back to look into my eyes. “Maybe we need to change up the location. Does the bed in your room squeak?”
“I’m not sure. We can try it out… but uh, I don’t need a bed to have my way with you. There’s lots of viable real estate: shower, wall, dresser, stairwell, rooftop.” I love that damn hitch in her breath from the dark promise of my words. “I’m not picky so long as it’s with you.”
A part of me quickly realizes what I just said to her, the admission that I want there to be a with you when it comes to her, but I know she took it for what it’s worth in the moment when she says, “You know what they say… It’s all about location, location, location.”
“As long as the location is between your thighs, I’ll take it.”
Chapter 14
“G
ood night. This is Tanner Thomas, reporting live for Worldwide News.”
As I wait for the connection to break, my body still rides the high from the raid today and the incredible sex with Beaux. I’m antsy and invigorated for the first time in what feels like forever here, and I sigh out in relief when the feed goes black so I can close down the Skype window on my laptop. Immediately my eyes focus on the iPhoto window open to the most recent downloads page, and I’m once again transfixed by the images Beaux took today that I had asked her to download on my laptop too.