Winters Heat (Titan) (12 page)

“Not a chance, doll.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Mia, honey, if you find yourself in a fair fight, you didn’t plan your mission correctly.” He wanted her to tear at his grip, to come apart while he held her in place. He wanted to see her, from head to toe, rocked in a cataclysmic orgasm.

His legs held their ground, and he undid the top button of her pants. As if he hit the slow-mo button, he dropped Mia’s zipper one stilted frame at a time. The pleasurable torment made his cock strain for its release.

He wedged his fingers past the tight opening in her pants, between her legs, and smiled in satisfaction when he found the damp underside of her lace panties. Her zipper bit at his wrist, but it didn’t matter.

She rubbed her sex against him and struggled to shift her pants down.

“That’s my job. These will come off when I say you’re ready.”

Moaning exasperation betrayed her. “Colby, now.”

He moved to her side, and she kept her legs open, rocking her against his touch. Winters immobilized her. One hand above her head. The other pressed against her mound.

He pushed the damp lace aside. One finger, then another, slid across her. If he thought he’d know how smooth and silky, wet and wanting she’d be, he was wrong. Stroking her was so far past pleasurable.

Her pants shifted over her hip bone. A small tattoo caught his eye. A symbol. Artful and delicate.

“You have a tattoo.”

“Hm-hmm.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Survivor.”

“Didn’t expect that.”

“It seems like you haven’t expected me at all.”

So true. His fingers dipped into her, then withdrew. A small shudder coursed through her body. He encircled her sensitized bud of nerves, so slick with her juices.

Mia struggled to lean up, straining against the wrist hold.
She wants to see?

And like she read his mind, she said, “I want to watch you.”

He was wrong if he thought he couldn’t get any harder, and he’d never been so close to losing it before.

“You can see.” His throat hurt with guttural vibrations. He didn’t recognize its sound.

“Not as much as I want to.”

He released her hands, and she arched into him, digging her nails into his shoulder blades. She clawed for blood. Marking him as hers. She could leave scars for all he cared. He’d own that constant reminder.

Her legs opened wider, straining at her pants, then she pulled from him and unclasped the front opening of her bra. Her swollen breasts fell free and taunted him. She was intentionally trying him. It was a game of who could distract who more. And it was fucking awesome.

“I told you I was calling the shots here. That’s the only reason you got your hands back.”

“I got my hands back because–”

He stopped her with a suck on her bare nipple.

She bucked against him, then ran her hand over her breasts, massaging. “You were moving too slow.”

Too slow? He was worried about moving too fast. His mind spun circles. Christ, if he died on this op, she’d be to blame because she was killing him.

He gave her ass a swift lift and tugged off the pants and small scrap of lace covering her, tossing it aside. She lay naked before him, a smile lighting her face. She wanted him. Trusted him. That was no small feat after the days she’d had recently.

He wicked his fingers over her wet folds with more pressure, tightening his attention on her clit. Arousal poured off of her, musky and mouth-watering.

“Stop teasing me, Colby.”

“Honey, we’ve only just begun.”

“I can’t handle it. I need release. Now.”

“You will.” It was a promise he would keep more than once.

“Please.”

He tried to shush her.

Mia reached for him. “Don’t make me beg.”

He rolled between her legs and kissed. She tasted extraordinary. Sweet and memorable. Her pleas broke off. Harsh breaths forced past her lips.

“You’ll come so hard, you’ll forget the hell you’ve endured.”
He’d do anything to wipe the attacks from her memory.

“Promise me.”

“Promise.”

He spread her wide, lashing his tongue over her. Her juices wept down his chin. Mia flexed toward him, calling his name. Damn straight, she could wear out his name. He loved hearing it pour off her tongue.

She fisted the comforter in one hand and drifted her other down her stomach. Her fingers met his tongue. The sensation whipped lightning-fast down his spine. She grazed, dancing with his kiss, and moved him swifter and harder. Her cries were louder, her legs spread further, heels digging trenches into the mattress.

He paused to watch. She wasn’t shy and thank God, because this worked for him in ways he didn’t know. A possessive need flashed, and he joined back in, his tongue commingled with her fingers.

“More.”

Sure thing.
He’d take orders from her. He speared her tight entrance with two fingers. Mia clamped around him. Such a tight pussy. Liquid fire coating his fingers. He’d explode if he entered her. She deserved better than an eight second rodeo, which was all he’d probably muster at the moment. He tried and failed to recount the steps of cleaning his rifle. He tried to list the phonetic alphabet. Backwards. Zeta. Yankee. X-ray. Nothing helped.

“Colby,” she said breathlessly. “Don’t stop. Harder. I need more.”

Harder
. He could do harder. He could do whatever the hell she told him to do. He grabbed her ass, holding her tight against his mouth. She pulled from him, pushed toward him, but it didn’t matter.

Finally, he couldn’t handle anymore and rumbled into her sweetness, the vibrations tearing the last shreds of her climb into an untamed climax. She bucked hard against his mouth, her hands ripping through his hair. She could pull every last strand out if it meant that orgasm was as strong as it sounded. She cried his name and cursed him. He forced her through it until the last of her ripples crossed his tongue, and she went limp.

One deep breath, then another. He released her from a grip that may have been far too tight. Marks outlined where he held her in place, but the satisfaction on her face did something barbaric to his need for her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Their break didn’t last long. Mia lifted her head from the mattress and snagged him with a look. “I need you. Now.”

Yes, ma’am. That’ll work for me, too.

She reached for his hair and ran her fingers through it. Nice to know he still had some. Directing him from his knees, she tore at his shirt. “Get this off.”

It was only then he realized he hadn’t disarmed.
Very gentleman like. Shit
. He stood, and un-holstered his Glock from the small of his back. The smooth metal was cold in his hand, a violent contrast to her sizzle and warmth.

One-handed, he pulled the slide, released the clip, unloading it in one swift move. The magazine hit the floor. He emptied the round in the chamber and placed his concealed carry on the nightstand.

“Show off.” She laughed, looking impressed.

“You liked it,” he said an octave lower than normal, saturated in arousal. He wanted to impress her. Needed her to see him as something beyond a street fighter, even if it was only a quick trick.

The gun holstered under his pant leg was still loaded. No way would he leave them vulnerable. Her fingers brushed over his belt clasp, working the buckle. His erection pressed hard into his pants, wanting her touch.

“I wasn’t complaining.” She rounded her hands onto his ass, encouraging him to step out of his pants and boxer briefs. He unstrapped the remaining holsters, set his backup and his tactical knife on the nightstand, and dropped trou.

His hard-on, freed of restraint, reached for her, and she didn’t hesitate. Mia clasped her hands around him. He grabbed a condom from his pants pocket. She stroked him, thumbing the crown of his cock, then took the condom from him. She tore it open and slid it down. One surprise after another.

“Come here.” He growled into her ear, praying he wouldn’t have to beg.

They moved to the middle of the bed, and he loomed over her. Had there ever been a more beautiful face looking up at him? Her bottom lip quivered. Her cheeks were flushed. She was stunning.

He guided his cock against her tight entrance. The tip teased, dipping in and pressing against her accepting muscles. Heaven help him. This minx could steal his soul if he didn’t put up a barrier.

As he inched in, she pulled him down to her, urging him. Waiting any longer wasn’t possible. He took advantage of her offer. He filled her. For a hot second, he almost lost it at first full thrust.

Deeper, then deeper again. Still it wasn’t enough. All of him, hugged tight by her
.
It shouldn’t feel this good. She shouldn’t be as accepting as she was, melting around him. Her muscles tightened, and she crushed a kiss on him, taking his lip and sucking hard.

Sweat slid down his shoulders. Moisture poured between their skin, from their kisses to their slick connection. Her legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. Her entire body hung on him, taut with a rabid hunger.

He pounded into her harder. Almost too hard. The sound of their slapping flesh burned his ears. She didn’t fight it. No, she seemed to crave it as much as he did. Her hips moved with him, begged him to keep up the intensity.

The lights were on. His woman was wild. They were out of control and completely in sync.
Sweet addiction, have mercy
. He struggled for more, struggled for restraint, but reveled in the complete lecherous abandon.

“Colby, please.” She begged, muscles constricting on his shaft. “Make me come again. Now.”

It was all he needed to push into overdrive. Palming her ass off the mattress, he gripped tight, fingers flexed, and aimed to please. He needed to explode, but not until that beautiful face had unraveled again. She’d come on his cock if it killed him.

A low growl choked from his throat. It was the desperate plea of a man waiting to detonate. Her head dropped back with a hoarse howl. Her pussy tightened, rippling over him. She called his name from some bottomless depth he’d never heard from a woman before. Her body bucked into his thrusts, her arms wrapped strangle-hold tight around his neck.

He came right after her. Every muscle in his body strained. He flexed the last thrusts, then collapsed over her. She was saved from crushing death by his caging forearms. Their sweaty cheeks pressed together, mouths agape.

Hard pants burned from his lungs. His chest heaved, shoulders rising and falling in sated, breathless satisfaction. Strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. To his forehead. Her eyelashes grazed his temple. Tonight defined world-stopping, better-than-amazing sex. And the only thing he could focus on was her.

Mine.

Possession blazed, shaking its fist, shouting into the night.

Minutes passed and neither moved. Their breathing stabilized together in painstaking slowness. One finger at a time, her hands relaxed from their death grip, and her legs unhooked.

She didn’t say a word. And thank God, because he had no idea what just happened.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Colby’s hard body held her still. Mia just existed. No thinking. No worrying. Nothing. She felt her limp, loose body sprawled on rumpled sheets. Numb satisfaction pulsed. Her fingertips tickled. Blood slowed its screaming rush in her ears. The taste of his kiss lingered, robust and vibrant, on her tongue.

That incredible ride was more than memorable. Repercussions of Colby ricocheted up, down, and all around her mind and body.

It felt like a night of firsts. The first time a man hovered over her, his stomach damp with their perspiration. Though it wasn’t. The first time a man made her cry out his name. No, that
was
a first. She truly lost control and begged. She cried his name in need and thanksgiving without thought or motivation.
Yes, definitely firsts
.

This night was different. His piston-powered force drove her to the edge and fell with her. She shuddered, recalling the pained look on his face, his teeth gritted, and muscles contracting around her. He held out for her.

He looked Herculean and chiseled, scarred and battle-ridden. The most handsome man to ever lay eyes on her was now lying
on her
. And if he stayed like this much longer, Colby could ask her to gun down a bad guy, and she’d pull the trigger without question.

His harsh stubble grazed her chin, his forehead meeting hers. The air was hard to breath, and she sighed.

This is too much like… Something more.

And she didn’t want
something more
. She could go with this tonight, letting her fantasy run to its full potential. But
more
with him was unrealistic. More might very well kill her.