Sweet Seduction Shield (29 page)

I took the
last step necessary to reach him and clasped his hand in mine.

"I've wanted
you from the first moment I saw you, and every second since," he
murmured, holding my gaze as his free hand came up to cup behind my
neck. "I'd planned on this being a little different. Please forgive
me." He sounded genuinely pained. "But I need to get lost in you. I
need..."

He stopped,
closed his eyes and let a shaking breath of air out.

My hand came
up and cupped his cheek, his beard scratching my naked palm. His
eyes flicked open, such depth of pain evident in the deep brown
that stared back at me. I didn't know what caused it, but I didn't
need to in order to give him a life line right now. And Ryan Pierce
was a man drowning, in desperate need of being saved.

I started
pulling him in the direction of the hallway, where I guessed the
master bedroom ran off, somewhere near Daisy's room. It wasn't hard
to find. The main bedroom was at the back of the house with a
stunning view of the tiny twinkling lights on darkened Coromandel
Peninsula far in the distance and the closer Waiheke Island in the
foreground. The odd buoy light breaking up the view, and a
container ship lit up like a Christmas tree wending its way across
the Hauraki Gulf.

I turned my
back on the vista and looked at the man before me, preferring this
view to any other, any day of the week.

"I'm yours," I
semi repeated. He held my gaze for one single beat in time, that
felt like an eternity.

Then pulled me
hard against his chest. A pained, but excited groan sounding out as
his lips met mine, the heat of his body fuelling the inferno
inside.

How could I
ever feel like ice again if I had this man in my life?

The answer was
simple. I couldn't. And I embraced that reality with fervent
desire, as I embraced the man before me, melting into his
touch.

He touched me
like I was a fragile treasure. Or perhaps a prize he'd coveted for
too long, which he knew could be stolen from him at any second. One
moment his lips were firm and unyielding. Taking everything he
wanted without pause. The next they'd skim across my flesh,
tentative and questioning.

Did I want
this? Would I push him away?

Every stroke
of his fingers along my neck, across my cheek, over my jaw sent
electric jolts of desire through me, which were swamped by
uncertainty in the next instant through the tremble in his arm, or
the hesitation in his movements.

He was a
dichotomy of longing and fear. I wondered if that reticence had
anything to do with his role as my police protector, or if it was
to do with where we were.

But a hunger burned beneath the surface of his touch. Beneath
the press of his lips. Ryan kissed like he was dying, like the
world was about to end and he had to taste a little more, lick a
little more.
Have
a little more of
me. Before it all was taken away from him.

One hand
cupped the back of my head gently, the other spread flat against my
spine, above my hips, pressing me close. Then in a flash the hand
at my nape fisted fingers in my hair securely. The one at my spine
moved to grip my hips, fingers across my butt cheek, thumb digging
into the crease along the top of my leg.

I couldn't
tell if he was fighting his attraction for me, even now when we'd
both succumbed. Or if he truly didn't know how to handle me, how he
should act, what he should do next. I hadn't expected this from
Ryan. He'd been so controlled, so in charge of his environment. But
the moment I stepped into his embrace, accepted his desire, offered
him mine, he'd floundered. Want and need warring with something
else. Propriety and decency?

I did not want
Ryan Pierce to be decent with me. That was not what I saw when I
looked at the goatee wearing bad-boy cop. It was not what I had
come to know of the man either. Ryan worked in law enforcement. He
lived and breathed it. But he was not above finding justice however
he could within the confines of the law.

He made an erotic sound when I nipped his bottom lip in an
effort to send a message home.
Hey, I'm yours. Take
me.
His hand in my hair tightened and he
tipped my head deepening the kiss. I groaned into his mouth and his
body shook in answer. The kiss took on a life of its own. Our
bodies moulded together, still standing, still in the middle of the
dark room. But we could have been anywhere. That kiss. Dear God,
that kiss was all I needed to stay alive.

Then in the
next second his hands were coasting across my back; gentle and
calming, when all I wanted was hard and hot. I let a breath of
frustrated air out as his lips trailed down my neck, slower and
slower still.

Exasperated,
my hand slid over his taut stomach muscles and delved beneath his
trousers. He sucked in a breath of surprised air, allowing more
space between his belt and skin, making it easy to snake my fingers
around their goal. He wore stretchy fabric underwear. Not satin
boxers. I wondered if they were tightie-whities, or those skin
tight boxer ones that showed off every attribute the wearer
had.

God, I wanted
to know.

He jerked in
my palm, swore softly under his breath, his body rigid, his lips no
longer kissing soft caresses against my skin. The world stopped. I
held my breath as the pulse in his erection thundered beneath my
fingertips.

One
second.

Two.

Three.

And then his
fingers found his belt buckle and with a flick of his wrist it came
undone. The button at the top of his trousers followed, then the
zip.

"I need..." he
rasped as I started to make good use of the increased space he'd
provided.

"What do you
need, Ryan?" I whispered against his jaw, my tongue flicking out to
lick the taste off his skin. Salty, soapy, manly. I made a low
sound in the back of my throat.

"Fuck," he
whispered back. "You are so fucking sexy."

"What do you
need?" I repeated, laying hungry kisses across his neck.

He dipped his
head down, holding me away from him so he could look me in the eye.
My hand stilled its exploration and I sucked in a surprised breath
of air.

"I need to
know you want this. Truly want this, Marie. Not just because I'm
falling apart here and you feel obligated to ease my pain."

Holy shit. He
had
been battling
his attraction and desire. Because he was unsure of
mine.

Even in the
midst of his own passion, Ryan was making sure I was OK.

"Ryan," I
started.

But he
interrupted me. "This is not a one night stand for me. This is the
start of something I intend to pursue from this night forward."

A muscle
ticked in his jaw. He was wound so tightly, so close to unleashing
his hold on that control he'd always had. So close to the explosion
I knew would happen when we finally broke through our self imposed
shields and let the other person in. But for some reason he
couldn't see in me what I could so clearly see in him. An honest
longing and hunger, a need that could only be fulfilled by the
other.

I pulled my
hand out of his trousers, thinking this conversation would be
better had without me palming his arousal. My thumb inadvertently
stroked over the broad head as I withdrew, and moisture registered
on the tip. Without thinking, my eyes still focused on his, I
lifted my thumb up to my lips and licked. Bloody hell he tasted
amazing.

"Fuck," Ryan
muttered. "Was that good?"

I nodded, unable to stop the edges of my lips from tipping up
at the sides. I held his gaze and for a second we both got a little
lost in there. Couldn't he see I wanted him for longer than tonight
as well? I tried to tell him that with my eyes. I tried to let him
see what was inside my head. Something I have never,
ever
done before with anyone
else.

I realised, as
I stood there, staring into the beautiful deep brown of Ryan's
eyes, that he was already behind my shield. How long he'd been
there, I don't know. But Ryan Pierce had made it to the other side.
He was in.

No one had
been in before.

"You're behind
my shield," I whispered, the words somehow finding their way from
my brain to my tongue. He shook his head softly, his thumbs
starting to rub gentle circles on my upper arms. "No one else," I
added, and a frown line appeared above his brow. A soft snort of
air left my nose, making his lips twitch. "Ryan," I said, my voice
certain and firm. "You think I'd let you in and walk away?"

This time when
he shook his head it was with a smile.

"You're beautiful," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful." But
as he looked at me, I could have sworn he was looking
into
me, not at whatever beauty was on the
outside.

"From this
night forward," I said, my hand coming up to cup the side of his
face, my thumb rubbing through his whiskers, relishing the texture
and feel of his goatee against my skin. I wanted that feeling all
over me, not just against my lips or under my fingers.

"From this
night forward," Ryan repeated, and neither of us mentioned the
dangers I still faced or the rules he was breaking. We just stared
at each other, seeing inside our respective souls.

There wasn't
much Ryan didn't know about me. Well, as far as the big things
went. My past had been relived in a most public way over the past
few days with him in the front row seat watching. He knew where I'd
come from. What I'd done and how I'd survived. He'd picked up on my
quirks from the beginning. He'd seen my tells and recognised what I
used to just make it through each day mentally intact.

He'd fallen
for my daughter. Considered her part of the package when he took me
on. And he was still here. Still beside me. Still asking for
more.

And although I
knew there was much more to Ryan Pierce than I'd already seen. The
fact that he had accepted me, with all my fucked up history and in
all my fucked up ways, meant everything. It meant I'd let him
behind my icy shield. I'd let him into my heart. And no matter what
skeletons existed in his past, he'd stared mine down with me, and
I'd be happy to stare his down with him as well.

"Make love to
me, Ryan," I whispered, never having wanted something so much in my
life before. I wanted him. My next breath depended on it.

"Babe," he
murmured, then slipped his hand down my arm and laced his fingers
with mine, turning and guiding me to the bed.

This time when
he reached for me, and lowered his lips to mine, there was no
hesitation. His hands deftly undressed me, while his tongue
worshipped my mouth. Every touch was sure. Every caress was hungry.
Every sound was a mixture of longing and desire.

We tumbled to
the bed in a tangle of naked limbs. His hard body a feast for my
fingertips, a lavish smorgasbord for my teeth and tongue. I wasn't
sure if he was still drowning from whatever this house did to him,
or if he was simply drowning beneath my touch, but I was determined
to distract him. To make him forget everything but what I was
doing, what I was making him feel, what I was about to do next.

He'd landed on
his back with me halfway across his body, coating him like a
blanket. I made sure he remained there with a purposeful press of
my hands to his shoulders. The bed dipped beneath him from my
gentle shove.

"I thought I was making love to
you
," he queried, but there was a lightness to his tone that
hadn't been there before. It gave me incentive to keep doing what I
was doing, because I was sure he was beginning to lose himself to
my touch.

And I needed
him to. The look on his face when he'd come out of that side room
in the kitchen was still haunting me. Ryan Pierce was not a man who
should be drowning.

And even
though he'd been unsure if I was willing to sleep with him out of
compassion or just plain lust, I didn't have any doubt at all. This
man made me feel things, passionate, hungry, wicked things, that no
man had ever made me feel before. And behind all that delicious
desire was an even stronger one.

I'd thought
Ryan was becoming my shield, replacing the ice with his heated
touch. But I think I was becoming his too. And God, I wanted to be.
I really, really wanted to be Ryan's shield, like he was mine.

My lips
trailed down his chest and over his stomach. Discovering his shape,
investigating all those beautiful ridges and hollows, committing
the feel of his ribbed muscles to memory. Making a map of his body
I could come back to at any time in my mind.

He must have
worked out regularly, I knew cops had to be fit, but his physique
was more developed than what I'd think on the job exercise could
attain. He had broad muscular shoulders, thick upper arms, and a
frame any underwear model would be proud of. His smooth cream skin
glowed softly in the muted light of the stars and moon that shone
through the large picture window at the end of the bed. A dark line
of hair from his navel to the thick thatch of curls at his groin
was all that graced his torso.

He was
perfect. In every single way.

His erection
jumped eagerly the closer I came. I glanced up the length of his
body, seeing his hooded eyes devouring every inch of me hovering
above him. Both hands were behind his head, in an open and relaxed
stance. The look on his face was pure male. He had no doubt of what
I was about to do and he fucking well would have it.

He wasn't
drowning anymore. He was floating on anticipation. And I hadn't
even placed him in my mouth yet.

My hand
stroked down the side of his hip, over his thigh, as my eyes held
his. I felt his erection jerk beneath my chest, my breasts were in
exactly the right spot for the tip to gently smack between them. He
made the same motion again, his arousal slapping my cleavage, a
smirk on his lips.