The Tycoon's Temporary Bride: Book Four (40 page)

Tashi stiffened, her nails dug into his back,
and her eyes popped open as the head gained entrance and nestled
just inside her sweetness. Adam sighed into her mouth as the
electrifying sensations of entering a wet furnace washed over him.
He lay still for a moment, breathing control into his system.
Finally he raised his head and gazed down at her. “Now for the main
course,” he said with a heated smile.

She chuckled and he slid a little farther in,
conjuring a little “Oohh,” out of her.

He thrust again, grazing her tender walls
with the rigid head of his shaft, coaxing sweet moans out of her.
She licked her lips as she tried to adjust to his size. They’d made
love so many times in the past three days, yet each time he entered
her, Adam was amazed at the tightness of her body. As she’d
mentioned, it was like taking her cherry all over again.

He swallowed the ache of passion in his
throat. “You asked me a question three days ago in the kitchen, to
which I gave no response,” he said. “Do you remember?”

Her forehead crinkled and she shook her head.
“No.”

“You asked me how I know I didn’t love
Claire.”

She licked her lips again and lowered her
lashes.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly as he drew
his hips back and thrust, pushing more of his cock into her
slippery warmth.

Her lids fluttered open even as her muscles
contracted around him, clinging to him, inviting him to go deeper
inside her warm feminine abode. “I know I never loved her,” he said
between a gasp of sheer pleasure, “because—because I didn’t feel
for her, or any other living soul, what I feel for you. Her leaving
me at the altar is the second best thing to ever happen to me.”

“What—what’s the first?” Her legs tangled
around his thighs as she raised her buttocks to meet his downward
plunge.

He lay halfway inside her, fighting the need
to bury himself and begin some serious thrusting in and out, but he
wanted to make sure that she heard every word he was about to
utter. He cradled her face in his hands and stared into her eyes.
“You,
cara
. You are the utmost best God has ever—will ever
bestow on me, and I’m smart enough to know that I need to cherish
you, protect you, and honor you with every beat of my heart, every
fiber of my being. I swear as I kneel over you, half buried inside
you that I am yours now and forever. When I promised to protect
you, it wasn’t just from the threat in New York. It was from
everyone on this planet, including Claire or any of my other exes
who might foolishly think they still have a chance with me. They
don’t. We’re not temporary, baby. We’re permanent.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “Are you
saying—”

“I’m saying… Dear God,” Adam hissed as her
muscles squeezed him. “I’m saying that I love you, Tashi Evelyn
Holland Andreas. I love you.” He pulled way out and sank into her,
feeling her velvet walls spread with a bit of resistance that only
increased the friction between them.

“Oh, Adam, I love you, too. I love you so
much.” Her arms tightened around his neck and her legs around his
waist.

“Then let’s seal our love, darling,” he
whispered, easing back, leaving only the head nestled in her moist
heat. “Tell me you love me again. Pledge yourself to me forever,”
he whispered.

“I love you, Adamo Alessandro Andreas.” Tashi
moaned as he sank partially into her and stayed there. Her muscles
clutched at him.

“And?”

Tashi choked on a soft sob. “And I will never
feel insecure again.”

“
Sei amato
. Say, ‘
Sono amata’
!
I’m loved.” He still didn’t move.

“
Sono amata. Sono amata, Adamo,
” she
said with an ultra sensuality that rocked Adam’s heart and soul and
mind to the core.

Her hypnotic emerald eyes sparkled, and as
she gazed up at him with and love and surrender, Adam pushed
through her tight heat until he felt the tip of his cock hit
bottom. He stayed there for a moment, savoring the feel of being
sheathed in hot honey. But she wasn’t having it. She squeezed her
legs against his sides tightening her muscles and increasing the
fiery friction as she began to move beneath him, raising her hips,
pulling him in, daring him to hold back, and as her tight muscles
began to work their lustful magic on him, she pulled his head down
and thrust her tongue inside his mouth.

Adam knew he wouldn’t last long. He grabbed
her hands from around his neck and pressed them into the
lounge.

He began to thrust wildly, his buttocks
tightening, his hips bucking as their damp bodies slapped together,
and their tongues matched the thrusting tempo of their hips. Her
velvet muscles gripped him fiercely, trapping him inside her,
forbidding his to leave her snug channel as he retreated, but as he
pushed forward again, she parted and welcomed him, welcomed the
vigor and strength and pleasure of his thrusts.

He was out of control. Lost. With one course
in mind. Release. No other woman had ever done that to him. He had
always been the one in control. The fiery feel of her was driving
him mad with lust, and love and passion. His back stiffened as a
distinct bolt of lightning ripped through his pumping body and
churned in his groin. He tightened his hold on Tashi’s hands and
pressed them harder into the cushion of the lounge. His lungs
constricted. He clenched his teeth, trying to capture the
electrifying moment, fighting the flames that threatened to
incinerate him.

“No…. No…” he groaned in a continual sensual
protest, even as he hammered fiercely into her, even as his tears
wet her throat, even as the sweet agony threatened to rip him
apart.

“Yes…” Tashi demanded against his ears,
opening wider, arching higher to meet each of his powerful downward
strokes. He had driven her to the edge of passion’s uttermost
summit. But she wanted him to surrender to her, first. Her hands
were still captured above her head, but Tashi locked her lower body
to his, sealing their wet skins together, and tightened all her
muscles securely around the hardness of him. “
Scopami di brutto,
Adamo! Scopami!
”

On that lubricious command, a harsh sound
rumbled through the air as the liquid dam of fire broke, plunging
Adam into the consuming heat. Three more deep thrusts, and he
erupted into Tashi’s womb.

With a triumphant moan, Tashi followed him
into the blazing pit of ecstasy.

For long moments, their harsh groans and the
heavy sounds of labored breathing could be heard above the gushing
waterfalls. It was a long while before their heartbeats returned to
a steady pace, before their bodies were quiet again. Tashi’s knees
were slightly bent, her feet resting on his legs. And Adam lay
exhausted and helpless within the cradle of her thighs.

Tashi had a satisfied smile on her face as
she stroked his slick back and felt the tense muscles slowly relax
under her fingers. She relished the feel of his weight, and the
final pulsing of his semi-hard ambassador inside her. He never ever
went completely limp after a climax. It brought her a sense of
power. She was still smiling when Adam eventually lifted his head
from her throat and looked directly into her eyes.

“You are a wicked woman, Tashi Andreas. A
real nymphet,” he said in a slurred, rough voice. His azure eyes
were glazed with lingering passion. He brushed her damp hair back
from her face then kissed her lips tenderly and sweetly. “Where did
you learn that Italian phrase?”

She chuckled, making her muscles tighten
around him. “Shania taught it to me.”

“I’m having a word with my cousin about his
wife corrupting mine. And I don’t think I want you playing with
those bad wives again.”

Tashi felt a distinct feminine glow light her
heart as she held his hair back from his face. “Why, because I made
you lose control? Now you know what it feels like.” She chuckled
mischievously. “What happened to all that talk about breathing and
holding and controlling?”

“The night isn’t over yet,” he
threatened.

“I would hope not. You wouldn’t want to ruin
your infamous reputation for keeping control.”

Adam’s lips ruffled temptingly as his fingers
brushed the curls at her hairline. “I think I lost control the day
I met you,
cara
. I just didn’t like admitting it.”

His eyes probed intimately into hers, and
Tashi felt a new warmth circulating in her lower stomach. That
fierce explosion had left her hungry for more. She had asserted all
her energies to giving him pleasure, to making him yield to her.
And it felt wonderful to know that she had the power to break him,
even though her inner and outer muscles ached from his rough
demands.

But the feminine side of her longed for a
different kind of pleasure. One that was slow, and sweet and
drugging. She needed that, too. She stirred restlessly beneath
him.

“I’m too heavy for you,” he grumbled.

Tashi winced as Adam slid out and off
her.

He lay on his side, resting his head on his
arm.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, stroking her
fingers up and down his arms.

“I had a heavy luncheon meeting. Maybe
later.” He trailed his fingertips across her stomach, lightly and
intimately.

“Me, too, with the girls. But I have freshly
shucked oysters.”

“Your shucked oyster is the only kind I’m
sucking juices from tonight.” His warm hypnotic gaze probed her
deeply.

Tashi flushed and trembled from the intensity
of his gaze and the evening air cooling her damp skin.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“It’s a little chilly now that the sun has
gone down.”

“Let’s head inside. I need room for what I’m
going to do to you next, anyway.” He scooped her up in one fluid
motion and carried her up the steps of the podium and into the
bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed and came down beside her.
“You promised to come for me, over and over again tonight, and I’m
holding you to that promise.”

She delivered.

Jake Fletcher tightened his jaw as he walked
briskly down East 39
^th
Street in Upper Manhattan. He was
being tailed—for the second day—and the idiot following him either
wanted him to know, or he was an amateur on his first surveillance
job. A five-year-old would have made this guy in ten minutes. Jake
doubted it was one of Boris’ men. They were too well trained to be
this obvious.

Or perhaps Boris was messing with his head,
letting him know that he was watching him, especially when they
were a week away from making their first shipment of girls after
several months of inactivity. After that shoot-out a year and a
half ago on the upper end of the island, Boris, a wannabe Russian
mobster had been forced to halt his family-run human trafficking
operation.

Boris was back in business, and seeking
revenge for the money and the crew he’d lost—two brothers, an aunt
and an uncle, three nephews, and a cousin—manpower Jake and a few
other newbies had replaced. Boris had been searching for the man
responsible for their deaths, but most diligently for the girl he
blamed for all his troubles. Jake knew it was only a matter of time
before he found her. Boris had plans for her—personal sadistic
plans, before he shipped her off to the worst whorehouse in
Russia.

She would have been better off in Sheikh
Armad’s palace harem.

Hastening his steps, Jake took a left on to
Lexington Avenue. Half a block down, he ducked into a familiar
bagel shop and headed for the restrooms. The breakfast rush was
over and it was too early for lunch, so the place was deserted. He
tried the door to the one marked ‘Women’ and finding it unlocked
and unoccupied, he stepped inside and left the door a fraction
opened. He peeped into the semi-dark hallway and just as he’d
expected, a few seconds later, his tail passed by and went into the
men’s room.

In a flash, Jake was out of the ladies’ room,
and in the men’s. He grabbed the man from behind, slammed his face
into the wall and patted him down. Satisfied that he was unarmed,
he wrestled his hands behind his back with one hand, and pressed
the barrel of his Glock into his neck with the other.

“Who are you, and why are you following me?”
he growled, putting pressure on his lock. The man was about six
feet, a couple inches shorter than Jake, and muscular to boot, but
Jake was confident that he could hold him.

“It’s not what you think,” the man said. “I
have a message for you. Someone you know asked me to deliver
it.”

“Who?” Jake barked, not easing his hold.

“I can’t say his name, man. The walls have
ears.”

Jake stiffened. Could someone in the agency
be trying to warn him about impending trouble or changes? Boris’
business was small and still in its early stages of operation—which
worked well in Jake’s favor. The FBI was determined to purge it
before it festered to inflict more pain and damage on innocent
victims. To that end, Jake had gone deep undercover after that
fatal night a year and a half ago—the night Paul Dawson died.

“Listen man, I’m not here to hurt you.”

Jake scoffed. “Like you could.”

“If you look in my left back pocket, you’ll
find an envelope addressed to you. It was delivered to my place of
business two days ago.”

“What kind of business is that? What kind?”
he demanded, when the man hesitated.

“Check-cashing! I run a check-cashing
business.”

“Is it legit?”

“Yes. I swear.”

Jake smirked as he felt the man tremble under
his hold. His decision whether or not to investigate the claim that
his business was legitimate would be determined by the nature of
the message he delivered.

“If you twitch as much as a muscle, I’ll put
a hole in your neck.” Jake released the man’s hands and pulled a
white envelope from his left back pocket. He ripped it open with
his teeth and fingers. A return envelope and a note were inside.
Jake read:
Package arrived in mint condition. Have taken action
to make permanent. Are flies buzzing?