Targeted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 2) (14 page)

Celida twisted in his grip, her hands trailing over his back to grab his T-shirt and start pulling it upward. He moved back just enough to give her room, separating their mouths for the split second it took for him to wrench the thing off and fling it over his shoulder. She murmured in pleasure and stroked her soft hands all over his naked torso, her tongue dancing wickedly in his mouth.

Tuck gripped her left hip to haul her snug against his groin, absorbed the little mewl she made, then reached for the buttons on that clingy silver blouse. She clung to his shoulders and arched her back to hurry him along, pulling the fabric taut as he plucked at the buttons. They fell away one by one, revealing the deep valley of her cleavage displayed by a cream lace bra.

His gaze stuck on her dusky brown nipples displayed through the lace, his hands finally freeing the last button. She shrugged off the shirt and reached back to undo the bra, and he groaned when her breasts spilled free. Full and round, the nipples taut little peaks he couldn’t wait to taste.

He cradled the mounds in his hands and lowered his head, placing little nipping kisses down her throat and to her collarbone while he drew his thumbs across her hard nipples. Celida let out a throaty moan and grabbed his head, pushing him down. But he didn’t need the encouragement. He had no intention of stopping now, not until he had her panting and begging and then sobbing with release.

Squeezing the soft flesh he’d fantasized about more times than he could remember, he opened his lips and drew one hard center into his mouth. She cried out, her fingers digging hard into his shoulders, her breathing already shallow and unsteady as she rocked her center against his cock. He licked and sucked one peak before switching to the other, one hand splayed across the center of her back to hold her. She tasted so good and smelled even better, all warm fragrant skin and aroused woman.

When she was twisting and panting he released her long enough to reach down and yank her skirt up higher, to the tops of her thighs, revealing the lace bands of her thigh-high stockings and the lacy cream thong covering her sex. His gaze stuck there as he trailed his fingertips over the tops of those sexy as hell stockings, making her shiver and squirm. Fucking hell, the woman was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen in his life.

Impatient, she raised her hips when he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her thong and began to draw it down. He couldn’t hold back a groan when the fabric lowered enough for him to see the flushed, glistening folds exposed to his gaze.

In one rough sweep he pulled her panties down and off, and looked up to savor the view. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes molten with desire, blouse wide open to expose the naked glory of her breasts, the nipples still damp from his mouth. And below, the skirt hiked up to expose her pussy, long legs wrapped in those stockings.

With a dark, hungry sound that came from his gut, he grabbed hold of her hips and dragged her a few more inches toward him, then placed one hand on her sternum and pushed. “Lie back for me.” His voice was deep, guttural, the command clear.

Celida licked her lips and eased back onto her elbows until her head met the tiled backsplash, eyes glowing with arousal, those amazing breasts heaving with each shallow breath. Then she drew her legs up to wind around his ribs and parted her thighs more, offering him everything.

Tuck groaned and gripped her hips hard as he leaned down to lay a line of teasing kisses across the top of the tiny, neat triangle of dark hair between her thighs. The muscles there trembled, her legs squeezing around him, one of her hands easing into his hair in a clear demand. He obliged, closing his eyes to better savor the moment as he opened his mouth and kissed her open sex.

Her high, tight cry echoed around the kitchen. Her legs jerked and the pressure of her hand in his hair increased.

“Easy,” he murmured against her aroused flesh. He trailed his tongue over her damp center, enjoying her desperation and the tangy-sweet flavor of her arousal, then delved inside her to stroke the hot, needy spot within.

She mewled and pressed against his mouth, clearly wanting more. Tuck raised his eyes to look up the length of her body and met her smoldering gaze.

Slowly, so slowly it killed him, he licked softly from her opening, up the flushed folds to the swollen nub at the top of her sex. He flattened his tongue against her and circled it, flicked gently, watching her gaze grow hazy and heavy-lidded with passion. The muscles in her thighs and belly began to quiver the more he teased her, her breaths coming in short little pants.

Gauging her reaction, he closed his lips around her clit and sucked.

“
Brad
.”

Everything inside him lit up at the sound of his name. Oh, fuck. She’d never called him by his first name, not once since they’d first been introduced. Hearing it now from her lips in that breathy, needy voice almost made him come in his jeans.

With a low growl of approval, he released one of her hips to bring his hand between her legs and ease a finger into her. Her head fell back on a soft cry, her mouth parting, eyes squeezing shut. Still sucking her clit, rubbing his tongue against it, he added a second finger and curved them, stroking over her inner sweet spot. A loud whimper escaped and she began pumping her hips against him, riding his fingers and tongue in a way that made his already aching cock pound for relief.

“Give it to me,” he growled against her heated flesh. Licking her, fucking her with his fingers, he listened to the insanely hot sounds she made as her inner walls began to flutter around him.

Three more strokes with his fingers, another caress of his tongue and she shattered, her hand clenching frantically in his hair. He felt her delicate muscles ripple and pulse around his fingers, kept licking while she writhed in his grip and came for him.

When her body stilled and she groaned in completion, he withdrew his hand and gently stroked her hips, thigh and belly, pressing slow, firm kisses over her mound while she came back down. Finally the hand in his hair eased, her fingers now stroking through his hair, the nails scraping erotically over his scalp, making goose bumps break out over his body.

Raising his head, he looked up at her. She was staring down at him with a sated expression on her face, a little smile curving her full mouth, and her eyes were still smoldering at him.

“That was good,” she whispered, moving her hand to glide the pad of her thumb across his damp lips. He kissed it, let his tongue caress it and his blood heated even more when a look of pure hunger flashed through her eyes. “But I still want more.” As if to prove it, she rolled her hips a bit, her body splayed and open for him in an erotic display he’d only ever dreamed about.

Her low, husky words were like dumping accelerant on a fire.

They also challenged him. She was obviously used to calling the shots in bed. But so was he. And he was determined to strip away all that iron control she encased herself in, make her give her everything, no holding back.

Something dark and possessive expanded in his gut. She was his, and he wanted her to know it. He vowed that she would after tonight.

He nipped the pad of her thumb and straightened, his hands once again gripping the full curves of her hips, fingers flexing there in a silent show of power. Her eyes flared, a hint of uncertainty in their depths, as though she understood there was far more at stake here than hot, intense sex and a couple of orgasms.

Oh yeah, he was going to strip her bare in a way she’d never been with another man, burn every moment of this into her memory in such a tactile way she’d never be able to forget his touch, his taste, the feel of his cock inside her.

His gaze held a clear warning as he stared at her. “If you want more, it’s gonna be my way. And you should know that I like control and I like it a little rough.” She shivered in reaction, the banked heat in her eyes suddenly bursting back into flame at his words.
Jesus Christ.
“If you say yes, I’m gonna make you give me everything.”

Her answering smile was feline, and pure sex. “Yes.”

Celida caught her breath as Tuck hoisted her off the counter. She clung to his broad shoulders as he whirled her around and walked to the closest flat surface to place her on—her pine farmhouse-style kitchen table. The wood was cool against her overheated skin, causing her to gasp as he laid her back on it.

Tuck loomed over her, backlit by the warm yellow tones of the kitchen light. His face was tense, every muscle in that rock hard torso taut, his eyes ablaze. Usually she liked to be in charge in the bedroom, but she couldn’t deny that the thought of handing over the reins to Tuck made her insanely hot.

Still, she wasn’t prepared for him to catch her wrist when she went to touch his face, or for him to grab the other and pull them over her head. She resisted, just to test him, watching his face the whole time. He stared right back at her and firmly, inexorably pushed her arms up and back until the backs of her hands touched the cool, hard wood.

“Don’t move them,” he growled, nostrils flaring as though he was already hanging onto the edge of his control.

She licked her lips and obeyed—for now—and lay there like an offering, spread out before him on her table. Never again would she be able to sit down and have a meal without remembering this, which was likely exactly what he intended. There was something so primal about knowing how much he wanted her it sent another shiver through her.

Tuck slid a hand beneath the small of her back and made short work of her skirt’s fastenings. With a quick jerk he tugged it down and over her hips, down her legs and off to drop on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her open blouse and stockings. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed as he turned back to her, reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants for his wallet to take out a condom.

Her gaze dropped to the bulge at the front of his pants and her inner muscles squeezed in anticipation. Cool air washed over her as she lay there, watched him undo his pants and shove them down along with his black boxer briefs. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed. Squirming a little, she tore her gaze away and looked up into his face.

“Hold on.” The gruff order sent another wave of heat through her even as he reached up for one of her hands and turned it so that she could hold onto the edge of the table. She did as he said and curled her fingers around the edge, the way he made her wait making this a thousand times hotter than she’d ever imagined.

And she’d imagined a
lot
. Though usually it was of her doing bad, bad things to him while he writhed in helpless agony. Things that involved scarves or soft rope to tie him to the bed and drive him insane with her mouth while he could do nothing but lie there and take it. Maybe she’d do that later tonight.

Her thoughts scattered when he tore open the packet and rolled the condom down his length. Without pause he took hold of her hips and pulled until they were near the edge of the table, then reached down to take her feet and place the soles on the very edge. Her toes curled at the feel of those large, hard hands on her inner thighs, the silky material of the stockings somehow heightening the sensation as he stroked his palms up to the juncture of her thighs.

With one hand on her hip he stepped into her body and positioned the blunt head of his cock against her opening. He was hot, hard, and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her. Finally, after all this time wanting him.

Tuck’s grip tightened around her hip as he eased forward, pushing the swollen crown into her. Celida groaned at the delicious stretching sensation and tried to wriggle closer but his fingers bit deep into her flesh, holding her still. “I said, don’t move.”

“No, you said not to move my hands.”

The hint of a smile played at the edge of his lips for a split second, then was gone, extinguished by the heat in his gaze. “Don’t. Move,” he repeated. “Or I’ll tie you down so you can’t.”

A shocking burst of arousal shot through her. With his advanced experience in subduing enemy combatants, she knew he could immobilize her without much difficulty, and knew knots she’d never even heard of. And holy hell that was hot. Forget the fantasy of tying him up, she was totally on board with handing over the rope into his capable hands. Body humming with anticipation, she did as he said and lay still, dying to find out what he’d do next.

As though he read her acquiescence, he held her in place with his strong hand and his will. Staring down into her eyes, he began a slow entry and withdrawal. Slow, shallow strokes that teased and seduced with the promise of what was coming.

She squirmed, she couldn’t help it, but got nowhere. The proof of his control over her only made her hotter, wetter. “Tuck.” It didn’t even sound like her voice, all breathy and pleading. Her fingers curled around the table edge.

“Shh.” He didn’t change his pace, didn’t bury himself in her body the way she wanted him to; only continued with that maddening shallow rhythm while he skimmed a hand up her belly to torment her nipples.

Celida hummed and arched her back, trying to take him deeper, but he wouldn’t allow it. In and out, in and out, he teased her, pulling all the way out every few strokes to glide the slick head of his cock up to rub against her tingling clit. She was wet from her earlier release but he was making her even wetter and she wasn’t going to be able to withstand the burn much longer.

The muscles in her arms, thighs and belly pulled taut as his cock caressed her most sensitive place, then slid back down to press inside.

This time he pushed deeper, slowly burying himself inside her inch by torturous inch. She gasped at the slight burn of the penetration, that heavy stretch that increased the ache inside her. Her hips rolled uncontrollably, her range of motion restricted by the iron hold on her hip. There would be marks there later on, and for some reason that knowledge only drove her arousal higher.

Tuck gave a low, rumbling groan as he pushed in the last inch or two, only stopping when he was buried deep inside her. “So goddamn good,” he muttered, and withdrew. She made an inarticulate sound of protest and his gaze sharpened on hers as he sank into her once more.