Locked and Loaded (16 page)

He wanted her for the simple reason that he'd never wanted
anyone
with the same scalding intensity that he wanted her.

Mason let out a low groan as his hands wandered to Charlie's hips. He broke their kiss and spun her so that her back molded to his chest. He plucked at the buttons of her shirt, his fingers fumbling in his haste to get it off of her. She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and the garment fell to the floor with a whisper. His mouth found the juncture where her shoulder met her neck and Charlie shuddered. Her reaction spurred him on, and Mason let his open mouth, his tongue, explore the sweetness of her skin. His teeth grazed her delicate flesh. He reached up and cupped the generous swells of her breasts through the thin satin of her bra. Her nipples hardened under his fingertips. Charlie sucked in a sharp breath. Their bodies melded together and he ground the length of his erection against her ass. He needed to get her naked, to strip her down and devour every inch of her.

“Mason . . .”

He didn't want her to think. To let logic take hold. She'd try to see this rationally and she'd stop this before they even got started. “Let me have this, Charlie.” His mouth met the delicate flesh below her ear. “Let yourself have it.” Hell, Katarina could have killed them both tonight. Life was too damned short to go without. He kissed her throat. Her jaw. Her temple. “I think we've earned it.”

She sucked in a sharp breath as his thumb brushed over the peak of one nipple. “We have.” The low, husky murmur of her agreement quickened his blood. “And then some.”

Since day one, Charlie had managed to get under Mason's skin. Bit by bit she'd burrowed so deep that she'd become a distraction. He needed to work her out of his system. Win a little of his focus and composure back. Giving in to his desires was the only way to regain his control over the situation. It was in both of their best interests that he was at 100 percent.

He hadn't just earned this. He
needed
it.

And it sent him over the edge of his restraint to know she needed it too.

Mason worked loose the button of the skinny-legged slacks that hugged her curves. Did she know how goddamned delectable she looked? How the sight of her turned him into a creature ruled by base desires? He eased the pants down over her ass and took a moment to appreciate the sight of her shimmying them the rest of the way down before she kicked them off along with her shoes. She wore a silky black thong that perfectly matched her bra. Her ass was a work of fucking art. He must have stared a beat too long because Charlie glanced at him from over her shoulder.

Her brow furrowed with doubt. “I figured I should dress the part from head to toe.” He sensed her unease in the tenor of her words. Didn't she know how perfect she was? “Is it too much?”

“Charlie,” Mason said on a breath. “The sight of you right now is enough to take a man to church.”

Her nervous laughter made his chest ache. “I assume that's a compliment.”

“It's the best compliment.” Her body could cause an atheist to have a spiritual awakening.

In this hotel room, away from their mutual responsibilities and missions, Mason could pretend that they were free from everything that fettered them. Why not buy into their fantasies for a few hours? Tell reality to go to hell and live in the moment. He could be a smuggler. A cheat. A liar and a hustler. He could be a criminal. She could be all of those things as well. They could live dangerously. Recklessly.

Because tomorrow, Mason knew that reality would once again come crashing down on the both of them.

Chapter Sixteen

Charlie's brain had switched to autopilot the second Mason put her back to the wall. She hated to admit that it had taken her pretending to be a criminal to experience the most exciting week of her life, and it was only getting better as the night—well, technically morning—progressed.

Working undercover was like living in a parallel universe. One where someone as extraordinary as Mason Decker whispered heated things in her ear. Kissed her with the most sinful intent she'd ever experienced. Left a trail of flames on every inch of her skin that he touched.

Her passions had always been career-oriented. She'd never wanted someone with such immediate and blinding intensity.

He wound his fist in the hair at her nape and eased her head to the right. His mouth was a brand as it made contact with her neck. A moan gathered in Charlie's throat. The possessiveness of his grip, the way his mouth claimed her, sent a rush of excitement through her bloodstream. Her pussy clenched as though in anticipation of what might happen next. The breath hitched in her chest as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin below her ear. Charlie reached back to wrap her hands around his thighs. Her nails dug in and Mason groaned.

“When I'm done with you, you won't give Kieran another passing thought.”

Kieran who? As far as Charlie was concerned, Mason Decker was the only man on the planet.

He continued to lick, bite, and kiss her neck. He kept one hand wound in the length of her hair and the other reached around to fondle her breast. Charlie arched into his touch, her nerve endings fired all at once and she was flooded with pleasure. There was nothing shy or tentative about the way Mason put his hands on her. With intent. He touched her as though he knew what it would evoke in her.

How much more could she take before Mason reduced her to a begging, quivering bundle of sensation and want?

“Tell me you want me, Charlie.”

The words left her lips on a breath. “I do.”

“Only me.”

How could Mason possibly think there would be anyone else after this? “Only you.”

He angled his body over hers and Charlie rested her forearms on the dresser as he bent her over. His hand abandoned her breast and she swallowed down a whimper of disappointment. His palm wrapped around her torso. Her eyes drifted shut from the delicious heat. Slowly, his fingers followed the contours of her body, to her hip and then over her ass. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath raced as Mason fiddled with the tiny strip of lace at her crease and ran his fingers beneath it.

“Do you like that, Charlie?”

“God, yes.” She could barely work the words past her lips.

He ventured lower, between her thighs. Mason's fingers teased her opening, skirted the sensitive outer lips of her labia and her clit. She'd never been touched so perfectly before. Charlie spread her legs wider in invitation but Mason continued to pet her slowly. Featherlight touches that stoked her desire without bringing her any relief. He dipped the tip of one finger inside of her. Just deep enough to further test her resolve.

“How about that?” he asked close to her ear.

This time, Charlie did nothing to stifle her moan. “Deeper.” She didn't care if she sounded wanton. Her pussy ached, her clit throbbed. Mason continued to tease her, and the only thing that would bring her any measure of relief was his cock buried deep inside of her.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “I want your walls down, Charlie.”

He wanted her inhibitions obliterated? No problem. She was practically there already. “I don't beg.” Mason might have Charlie where he wanted her, but she wasn't about to let him know it yet.

“You will,” he assured her. “Give me a second.”

Flames of desire licked at her and Charlie's stomach did a dazzling backflip. His mouth met the back of her neck once again and she shuddered. Her back arched as she tried to deepen the thrust of his finger, but Mason pulled back. He nipped her shoulder and the quick sting sent a rush of wetness between her thighs.

“Don't move.”

A smile curved Charlie's lips. “Not an inch.”

She and Mason both were used to being in charge. Charlie enjoyed the power play. Encouraged it. She'd been prepared to march into this room tonight and take control. Instead, she'd given it all to Mason. And oh, God, did it turn her on.

Mason continued with shallow strokes of his finger. His hand splayed out across her ass and Charlie bucked as his thumb ventured higher up the crease to circle the opening and the tight ring of nerves. No one had ever touched her there before. Hell, no one had dared. The sensation wasn't unpleasant. Rather, the slow, easy circles he made around the opening enhanced Charlie's pleasure to the point that slow sobs built in her throat. Her hips rocked into the contact and Mason nipped at her shoulder once again.

She stilled as a thrill chased through her. Already this was the most intense, exciting encounter of her life, and they'd only just begun.

Charlie gripped the dresser as she tried to steady her careening world. Mason released his grip on her hair in favor of returning his attention to her breast. He pulled the cup of her bra down and teased her nipple to a stiff, aching peak. She cried out as pleasure crested within her, so many sensations that melded together to cast a haze of mindless pleasure over Charlie's brain.

Her only coherent thought was:
more
.

More of his mouth on her. More of his skillful touch. More of his commanding control that gave her no choice but to offer herself up to him.

With each gentle stroke of his fingers, Charlie's grip on the dresser tightened. Her muscles contracted to the point that she shook. Her breath came in quick pants. Every nerve ending in her body fired. She drowned in pleasure. How much more of this could she take before she broke apart?

As much as Mason wanted her to. He was in charge.

“I need to come.” It wasn't a question of wanting anymore. She needed release like she needed food, water,
air
.

“Is that what you want, Charlie?” Mason's voice slithered over her in a low growl. “For me to make you come?”

He wanted her to beg. And for the first time in her life, pleading for something seemed not only to be her best option, but absolutely vital to her survival. His finger slid up to circle her clit and Charlie cried out. “Yes. Please.”

She didn't have to see Mason's face to know he wore a smug, satisfied smile.

He pulled away. Bereft of his touch, Charlie's chest hollowed out. She didn't know she could miss something with such instant and resounding impact. When his hands found her hips, she wanted to cry out with relief.

Mason gripped the waistband of her thong and dragged it down her thighs. He went to his knees and Charlie's body went taut with anticipation. He brushed his thumbs over her swollen lips and up the crease of her ass before burying his face between her thighs.

Charlie's world spun out of control when his mouth covered her sex. He tongued her opening and a low whimper escaped her. The wet, silky glide of his mouth was heaven and hell all at once. A delicious torture that she couldn't get enough of.

“Oh my God, Mason.”

His fingertips dug into the flesh at her hips. He held her still as he lapped at her pussy, slow, purposeful licks followed by deep, hungry sucks that made her cry out. He took her labia between his teeth and pulled gently away before releasing her from his mouth. Charlie had never experienced anything so intense. So damned visceral. So
wild
. His tongue explored every inch of her. He circled her clit before delving back into her pussy.

This moment had no comparison. Mason had no comparison. Tonight was a game changer. Who would have thought she'd have to take a walk on the opposite side of the law in order to get everything she'd ever wanted and more.

* * *

The first taste of her was heaven.

Being with Charlie wasn't simply scratching an itch, as Mason had suspected it would be. Instead, touching her, tasting her, coaxing sweet mewling sounds from her, had struck him with a sense of intimacy that left him shaken.

Instead of getting her out of his system, Mason worried that Charlie had worked her way deeper. Into his bones, his blood, every cell. This was no longer about a simple infatuation. It was an obsession.

And he wanted more.

He wouldn't be satisfied with simply a taste. Mason's cock throbbed in time with his heart, so damned hard that it hurt. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of her. Relieve himself of the desperate want that pooled in his gut like molten metal. He wanted to fuck her hard and deep, make her scream his name before she came apart. And when they'd both found release, he wanted to start all over again and build them back to this place where nothing mattered but the two of them and what they felt.

By the time the sun rose, Mason wanted Charlie to be irrevocably his.

Her thighs trembled against his cheeks as he swirled his tongue over her tight, swollen clit. He could make her come like this. Feel every spasm against his tongue. God, he wanted to. Wanted that power over her. And not because it made him feel more like a man to have it. No, it was because Charlie had freely given it to him. Had entrusted him with her pleasure. To take care of her. She'd sacrificed her own power and given herself over to the moment. To the passion that swept them both up in its violent storm. Mason wanted her to come again and again. He wanted her so damned sated that it would ruin her for other men.

Selfish? Absolutely. But Mason had never claimed not to be.

Nothing mattered more to him than her pleasure. Mason lapped and sucked at her pussy, grazed the sensitive flesh with his teeth. Charlie's cries grew more impassioned, her breaths heavy. She arched her back, pressed herself against his mouth. Her hips rolled with every thrust of his tongue.

“Don't stop, Mason. I'm almost there.”

He wasn't about to stop.

Charlie's body went still and Mason increased the pressure of his tongue on her clit. She gasped, the sound accompanied by a low moan as the orgasm vibrated through her thighs. Her pussy contracted against Mason's mouth and he continued to lap at her, drawing out her pleasure for as long as possible. The sound of her desperate moans echoed through the hotel room. It bounced around in Mason's head, filling him with a sense of smug accomplishment that he could evoke that reaction in her.

Her cries grew silent and Charlie collapsed against the dresser. Mason kissed the backs of her thighs, the perfect globes of her ass. He stood and kissed his way up her spine, across to one shoulder and then the other. He kissed the back of her neck. Below her ear. Her temple. He could kiss her for hours.

“I'm Jell-O.” Charlie's low laughter sent a shiver over Mason's skin. “I'm going to have to be hauled out of here on a luggage cart tomorrow.”

“We're just getting started.” Mason unfastened the clasp of her bra and guided the straps down her arms. “You have no idea what Jell-O feels like yet.”

She let out a contented sigh. “Are you saying it gets better?”

“I told you”—Mason smoothed her hair away and put his mouth to her neck once again—“I'm going to make sure that you never think of another man after tonight.”

“There are other men . . . ?” The low, sensual purr of Charlie's voice was enough to renew the surge of lust that coursed through him. “I had no idea.”

He loved her dry wit. Mason was dead serious, though. When they left this room in the morning, there would be no doubt in Charlie's—or Kieran's—mind who the better man was.

Mason took Charlie's hand. As she stood and turned to face him his breath stalled. Her cheeks were flushed with color, making her eyes seem so much bluer. The strawberry-blond locks of her hair framed her face in a wild tangle. Even her lips seemed redder. Fuller. Begging to be kissed again.

Charlie's shoulders hunched as she brought her arms in front of her and her knees turned inward. Her gaze dropped low and to the right. Was she trying to hide her body? Good Lord, the thought of her hiding any part of herself was downright criminal.

“Let me see you.” Mason took her hands in his and guided her arms away from her body. She kept her eyes pointed at the floor. “Charlie. Look at me.”

Slowly, she brought her gaze to his. For the first time since he'd met her, her expression was unsure. Charlie Cahill, who took down crime syndicates and smugglers. Who whipped an entire staff of seasoned agents into submission with nothing more than a withering stare. Charlie, who walked into a den of Russian mobsters and owned the room as though they worked for her, not the other way around. This woman, who exuded so much confidence, could barely meet his eyes when he took in the glory of her naked body.

“You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.” Mason hoped his words conveyed the reverence he felt. “God, Charlie. You're fucking perfect.”

She looked away. “I'm not.”

Mason guided her face back to his. “You are.” He kissed her slowly. “Your mouth is perfect.” He let his fingertips wander over her collarbone before they dipped to her upturned breasts. He took their weight in his hands and brushed the pads of his thumbs over the points of her nipples. “Your breasts are fucking amazing.” A corner of her mouth hitched into a seductive half smile. Jesus, she didn't have a clue how enticing she was. His hands wandered lower, over the flare of her hips to her ass. “This ass is a masterpiece,” he said. “I want to have it bronzed.”

“You do not.”

“The hell I don't. I'd cast those fantastic cheeks and have it on my wall by tomorrow if you'd let me.”