Read Sweet Seduction Surrender Online
Authors: Nicola Claire
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Private Investigators, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
Game over.
"Kate."
He breathed my name against my lips like a benediction. "Oh God, Kate," he murmured, deepening the kiss further.
It felt surreal, a dream come true.
This couldn't possibly be happening. We fought, we bickered. We made each other mad. But right now, he seemed as lost as I to the moment. The second our lips touched all reasoning left us. Not that much had remained beforehand. But I couldn't have fought this if my life depended on it. And he obviously had no desire to stop what was happening either.
His shirt hit the floor.
My blouse followed.
Several more feet covered, out of the office and down the hallway.
My bra was discarded next.
His naked hand wrapped feverishly around a breast, fingers seeking contact.
The door to my bedroom passed.
His belt buckle came undone and various ASI paraphernalia hit the floor with a thud, along with his jeans.
My skirt puddled in a pool of delicate fabric next to them.
The bed met the back of my knees.
His boxers fell around his boots. They got rapidly toed off.
My lace underwear flew across the room to land on top of a lamp shade.
My back hit the bedspread, his front hit my chest.
And not once did we stop kissing. Not even as he ran roughened fingertips across my trembling skin. Or palmed my breast firmly, tweaking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Not even as he urgently whispered against my lips, "Protection?"
I mumbled something about being on the pill, but my words were lost to his lips and tongue so swiftly, that it was hard to tell if he'd deciphered them at all. And still we kept kissing. Not stopping as he shifted his weight to cover me, to control me. Large palm enveloping both my wrists, pushing them purposefully into the pillow at my head. One warm hand wrapped around my thigh as he pulled my leg out to allow him a better position at my apex.
Then with one erotic sounding groan he thrust himself inside. Filling me up, stealing my breath, and all sense and any ability to speak. I moaned, as he began to move with a speed that seemed impossible. I wasn't sure if he was still angry with me or the situation, and his pace and fervent movements were a by-product of that. Or if, like me, he just could not get enough of the person before him.
It didn't matter, it was too late to analyse this. It was a thunderous storm rolling out between us, uncontrollable, unstoppable. Inescapable. Maybe it had always been inevitable that he would end up in my bed and I would welcome him with open arms. Maybe this was fate. I didn't care. He felt so good. So right. He matched every move of mine as though coordinated. Where I was soft, he was firm. He moulded to my body as though he was made for me.
We met in a fluid movement of flesh on flesh. Slick skin against evermore slick skin. It was delicious. He used every available inch of the bed, rolling us, thrusting so firmly that we hopped across the covers with each pound inside. It was invigorating, shocking yet exciting. Every single touch he made sent adrenaline coursing through me. But his dedication to the task was what surprised me the most. He sought every single gasp from my lips as though it was gold. Every single writhe he hunted down with single minded determination. Each moan was doggedly pursued. Each orgasm, and there were more than one, was fervently chased with a level of passion I could not have guessed existed in this world.
He was exactly how I had imagined he would be. The moment was hard, fast, powerful. Everything Jason Cain had always appeared to be;
hard, fast and powerful
. And I greedily took every single thing he offered.
We both came together in the end spectacularly. Neither able to contain our responses in that moment, to hide our reaction to this incredibly intense coupling. We lay panting, still wrapped up in each other's arms, still floating on a blissful cloud of release.
And then he started laughing. A delicious rumbling sound from deep inside his chest.
"That was entirely unexpected," he murmured, laying a soft kiss against my neck. "But not at all unwelcome."
I didn't know what to say to that. I suddenly felt very awkward. It had happened so quickly. An out of control explosion of lust. I was embarrassed to admit all thought had left me. In the heat of the moment I had forgotten every warning Nick had said, every logical reason that had existed proving this was a very bad idea.
My body had just acted. My response was ingrained; an animalistic reaction to his advances. Similar to those blasted zebras last night on TV. I hadn't acted at all like the Katie Anscombe everyone knows. I'd lived a little. I'd tasted life. I'd taken a risk.
Jason had drawn that from me, even when I had been so sure that he never,
ever
could. I felt shocked, totally astounded, stupefied by what I had let transpire. And consequently scared out of my wits for what would happen next. A line had been crossed,
so recklessly
. And now he would throw it in my face, be the player Nick said he was.
But he didn't pull away.
His hand was idly stroking down my side, over my hip and back up my stomach. His eyes were hungrily soaking up every inch of my naked skin. Devouring every curve and dip. His fingers felt hot and slightly rough. His breath was still uneven, but it had nothing to do with the exercise we'd just had. Instead it was entirely because of me... lying before him, available to his touch.
His deep chocolate brown eyes came up to hold my gaze.
"What are you thinking, Kate?" he asked softly. Such an unexpected show of consideration from him.
I licked my lips, my eyes darting all over his face to see if I had missed something. If the smirk was about to make a return or chestnut was creeping into the edges of his eyes. But they weren't. This was a new Jason. A sated and content Jason.
I had no idea how to handle this man. It frightened me. Because this Jason was the manifestation of the Jason I knew existed under the hardened façade. This was
my
Jason. And now I had him, I wasn't sure what to do with him.
"OK," he said, his lips tipping up in a beguiling smile. "I'll tell you what I'm thinking then," he murmured, his face nuzzling into the curve of my neck. "Time for round two," he whispered, huskily.
I let out a ridiculous surprised squeal as he rolled me on top of his body, positioning me exactly where he wanted me to be. Then without warning he slowly sank himself inside my entrance. Just an inch.
"Am I going too fast for you, Kate?" he asked, working his way in inch by inch further. "Or do you want it faster?"
Oh boy. I was having trouble keeping up with him as it was.
He rolled us over suddenly, so he was again on top, then swirled his hips in a circle, making me catch my breath.
"Stay with me," he whispered, and I knew the words meant more than he was letting on.
I stared up at him, his face so open, so perfect and carefree...
And I just nodded, a smile gracing my lips, finally accepting that I had crossed that forbidden and dangerous line... and that it was
all good
.
"So, do you keep them in the bedside drawer or the dresser?" Jason asked, his hot breath tickling the hair on my neck.
He was draped around my back, his hips framing my rear, his arm wrapped possessively around my stomach, hand firmly clasping my breast. The position made me smile. Jason was doing absolutely everything I thought he would do. I knew he was a dominant man; a male in charge of the world he walked within. Be that in his job, in his home-life, or with his women. Not that I thought too often about his '
women,'
I tried not to. But although Nick had only just pointed out the blonde busty bimbos to me, it hadn't in fact been a surprise. Jason Cain was an extremely virile man.
"What do I keep hidden?" I asked, trailing a finger down his forearm, watching as goosebumps rose up in its wake.
It was utterly surreal to be touching him like this. How many times had I dreamt about this exact moment? How many times had I fantasied about how we would behave after sex? Awkward? Distant? Dismissive? Jason's actions around me in the past had never given me much hope, even if my heart longed for it. My mind, however, had been realistic, so this...
comfortable closeness
was entirely unexpected.
But, oh so wanted.
"Your knives, Kate," he murmured. "I'm still trying to picture where they would be. In between your Victoria's Secret underwear? Or maybe, stacked in organised piles beside your Kombatan Training Manual?"
I ignored the obvious questions there and asked instead, "How did you know I studied Kombatan?"
He shrugged, laid a kiss against my bare shoulder and squeezed my breast once. "A guess," was all he said and by the sounds of it, all he was going to say.
I pushed the puzzle aside. Jason could be obtuse when he wanted to.
So, I went back to the rest of his statements instead.
"Where would you prefer to see them, Jason? In between satin and lace, or cared for appropriately, as my trainer would advise? Blades oiled, sheathed and placed in a way that meant easy access and no possibility of damage while stored."
His nose nuzzled my hair at the back of my neck as he thought of an answer. He hadn't stopped touching me, discovering me, since we'd finished our slower second round of sex. I wondered if he felt like we had so much time to make up for. Jason had been a satellite fixture in my life for several months now, but from the moment I laid eyes on him, I wanted more. Had he?
"Hmm," he murmured, shifting his body even closer at my back, as though the small amount of space created with his explorations was unwanted. "Now, what would I like to see?"
He paused, ran a hand seductively down my side to my hip and then dug his fingertips into the flesh there. Almost like he was marking me, from the strength with which he fondled my skin. Everything he did was proprietary. I hadn't quite expected such ownership from him so early on.
Well, I hadn't dared to think of much past the initial 'moment' at all.
"The Kate I know would follow her instructor's directions," he pointed out, letting his breath wash over my skin; hot, slightly sticky, entirely too erotic. He pulled his face back and watched my skin pebble from the effect. Then added, "I wouldn't be surprised if your knives were stacked appropriately, sheathed and oiled and within easy grasp. The soldier in me would appreciate that."
Yes, I could imagine Captain Jason Cain kept his weapons well maintained and equally well stored.
"But," he continued, his hand suddenly stroking slowly around the front of my lower abdomen, and then edging closer to the curls at the top of my thighs. I bit my lip from moaning at the obvious direction his eager fingers were heading, trying in vain to listen to his next words. "Don't get me wrong," he said, as his finger slipped through my folds, seeking entrance, seeking
me
. "The man in me admires a woman who can defend herself. It is a turn-on."
His one finger was joined by a second as he slowly, languidly thrust them both in and back out, repeating the action with infinite patience, as though he had all the time in the world to make me wetter and wetter and wetter still.
His forearm shifted sideways, making me spread the thigh on top out further, allowing him better access. He rocked his hips, readjusting himself at my back and making me aware of his current aroused state, then pressed his erection in between my butt cheeks, broad tip down, rubbing at the back of my folds with each dip forward. His shaft slid up and down that rear channel with a determined motion that made my heart skip. With his fingers occupying my core I wasn't entirely sure where he thought he was going to place that enlarged organ.
"Now," he said, voice deeper than before, sexily husky, not even trying to hide his turned-on state. "For you Kate, I'd want to see something more than a level head and an abide-by-the-rules character trait." He would?
His lips trailed across my shoulder, up to the soft flesh on my neck where he proceeded to suck and nibble, making me writhe under his touch, arch my back and give him a firm surface to rub back against. His erection came dangerously close to pressing in where no one had ever been before. But for the life of me I couldn't seem to stop my reaction to him. His fingers were deftly seeking my complete surrender, I was losing all perception, my mind closing down to the world outside this room, outside this bed, outside of
him
. He could have suggested anything right then and I wouldn't have faltered.
He was a dangerous, dangerous man.
He moaned against the length of my sweat soaked neck, thrust a little more firmly between my butt cheeks and said in a decidedly raspy voice, "I'd want you to push the limits." He was losing me. What were we talking about? "I'd want you to surprise me. To never be predictable. To be everything I know you are deep down inside. To let go of your boundaries, to live, to taste.
To risk
."
I made a strangled sound that was entirely too sensual. I'd meant to question what he was getting at, but forming words was no longer possible right then.
His fingers still swirled and pumped and tweaked and rubbed deliciously. His lips and teeth grazed and soothed and trailed over my skin. His hard arousal made itself known with each purposeful thrust between my butt cheeks. And the heat of his chest branded my back, seared through my skin, and left an indelible impression on my body from behind.
Then his free hand came around one of my cheeks; hot, roughened skin with each touch, yet gentle in the way he stroked, kneaded, fondled, until his thumb pressed into my rear.
"Do you have any lubrication?" he asked, slowly working his way inside, just a little, just his thumbnail, just enough to make my heart rate sky rocket and my mind stutter to a complete and utter halt.
I liked a little variety in my love making, but I had never taken the plunge where my butt was concerned.
"Ah," I managed to squeak out, my body tensing slightly at the knowledge that Jason very much wanted to go
there
.
Maybe I could do it. I'm not sure. It was unexpected and I'd never considered doing anything like that with any other man. On the flip side, I did find myself a little panicked at the unfamiliar sensation of longing this new arousal brought out in me. It was new and a little overwhelming. No man had ever created that reaction in me before. I was intrigued though, and excited, as well as being entirely turned on by his desire to do something a little naughty, a little forbidden.
He'd said he wanted me to surprise him. He had no idea what I was capable of desiring. No idea what I fantasied about when alone. If he knew the things I imagined, the things I pictured doing with him,
to him
, I was sure he'd be utterly astonished.
No man had ever seen the real Katie Anscombe either.
"Kate," he almost chastised, his voice firm and commanding, but still layered with a hint of understanding, of compassion. He must have thought my hesitation was due to fear, not a calculated thought pattern leading to lust-filled fantasies becoming reality. "Have you ever tried it?"
I shook my head no, feeling a blush roll up my skin; a blazing sensation of heat over my cheeks. I may have had sweat soaked images of him and me doing all sorts of passionate things inside my head for the past few months, but the realisation that they were only fantasies, not based on reality or experience, was a little unnerving.
"Do you want to?" he asked, not stopping his movements with his fingers in the front of my body, but slowing down his pursuit between my butt cheeks.
I felt like a weight was somehow hidden in that question. I was pleased he asked, although embarrassed that he had to. But there was something in his tone. A challenge. Could I live life? Would I?
I can dream, but can I do?
"I'm not sure," I finally admitted, still unable to take a full breath, despite the way I was reacting to his touch. Both at the front and behind. My ridiculous safe-road-only mind was saying no, but I my body was having other ideas. I rocked back against him, seeking his thrusting fingers, and equally searching for more pressure behind.
A low chuckle worked its way up his chest.
"Kate," he breathed. "There'll be time to introduce you to that. And I
will
introduce you to it. I will taste all of you. Every... single... part of you." His fingers thrust in time to each word, his thumb pressing harder on each syllable, but not quite breaching fully just yet.
If my heart had tripped before, it just quit beating now. Because it was obvious, from his words, from his tone, from everything this man was showing me right now, that this was not a one time event. I felt strangely numb from that realisation. Not unfeeling, no, there was just too much I was feeling for my body to comprehend.
Jason Cain had started something today that he had every intention of continuing. His statement did not mean he'd introduce me to new experiences this afternoon, or this evening. It was clear he was referring to days, maybe weeks, ahead. My body did a full shiver. He growled. Removed his thumb and fingers, grasped my hips on either side to pull my butt back further and shifted his erection to my wet folds, sliding inside in one deep, possessive plunge.
The movement was so smooth, so calculated, yet also so completely at the edge of his control, that for a moment I thought he was doing what he had set out to do. But the moment I felt the stretch where his fingers had been fondling before, my body completely relaxed and opened up for him, taking every long, thick inch of him inside.
"Oh, Kate," he husked behind me, starting up a steady rocking of his hips, thrusting in and out with long, wet glides. "Fuck, I'd take you any way I could get you. Whatever you chose to give."
Oh dear God, I could get used to that. I could get used to this man in my life. In my bed.
"Let me hear you," he demanded, shifting our bodies from our side until I was on all fours before him and he was pounding deep inside. His thighs slapped against mine, his fingers dug into my hips as he pulled me back on to him at each thrust forward. "Come for me, baby. Let go. Feel me filling you up, taking you somewhere beautiful."
I moaned at his words as much as his forceful movements. Jason Cain seemed to never do anything in half measures. All or nothing. From his command of my body right down to his wicked, yet captivating words.
"Take me with you, Kate," he rasped, not faltering in his pace as he leaned his chest down on my back and began to run slick fingers over my sensitive nub between my legs. "Oh, yeah, Kate," he groaned against the sweat moistened skin on my back. His tongue came out and lapped up my spine eagerly.
It was such an erotic movement and right then, when my body was firing off nerve endings and my brain was firing off synapses, I just came apart at his touch, at his words. I cried out an inarticulate sound. It might have been his name, or it could have been a simple scream of release. But neither mattered, it came from deep inside and was loud and long, and exactly what Jason desired.
"Oh God yeah, Kate! Like that."
Several more hard and fast thrusts and then he simply exploded, his body shuddering behind me, his fingers gripping my hips tightly, almost unforgivingly, as his release shot hot and long inside. It seemed to go on forever as his thrusts became more languid and his breathing became more ragged, until finally he collapsed us both down on the rumpled sheets, spent.
"Now, that's the Kate I want to see," he said between deep breaths in and out. I was equally breathless, maybe more so than him, because I couldn't form words at all and he seemed to still be able to speak.
His hot breathy lips laid a kiss against my skin at my neck, as he rolled us to our sides so I wasn't crushed beneath him.
"Fuck," he exclaimed softly in amongst my hair. "That last one might have done me in for a while. I think you've milked every last drop out of me."
I couldn't help but laugh a little at that.
"You think it's funny, huh?" he whispered, pulling me closer still.
The fact he couldn't get enough skin on skin contact was so unexpected. I hadn't, in all my wildest dreams, thought Jason Cain would be a cuddler.
"For that, Ms Anscombe," he said, effecting a commanding tone, one I would have expected from Jason Cain, Captain in the SAS, "You get to make me lunch."