Chapter 24 #2
Always, before the teeth crushed his windpipe and ripped him apart, he woke. Thank God.
“Dream,” he said roughly. “Happens sometimes.”
She sat up next to him but didn’t make a move to invade his space. He reached for her, dragged her against him until she’d slung a leg over his body and an arm around his waist.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Did he? Not really.
“You don’t want to hear about the things that give me nightmares.”
She traced a finger over one of the scars on his torso. Souvenir of a knife fight in Syria.
“I had nightmares for a long time, but they’re gone now,” she said. “I think I just channel those feelings into disemboweling Viktor. Oh, and I often wish for a handy lion when I’m doing it so I could feed the pieces to it.”
He snorted an unexpected laugh. “Damn, Princess, you’re diabolical as hell.”
“Remember that when you consider driving to the next meeting without me.”
His belly twisted. “Already told you about it so how could I go without you?”
“I’m not sure, but I know you’d do it if you thought you could get away with it.”
“I would,” he acknowledged. “Unfortunately for me, tying you up and locking you in my SCIF for the duration isn’t an option. Because that’s about the only way you wouldn’t show up.”
“True.” She moved, the soft hair of her pussy sliding against his hip. He dropped a hand to her ass, cupped the perfect mound of one cheek, let his fingers glide into the wetness between her legs. She gasped a little and widened her legs to give him better access.
The sound sent an arrow of desire straight to his dick. He’d already fucked her twice last night and he was ready to do it again. What made this particular woman impossible to get enough of? That’s what he didn’t understand.
He’d had her many times over the course of the past few days, and still he wanted her like he was a teen boy getting his first piece of ass. He was forty-two years old, and he’d long ago achieved the ability to regulate his needs.
Not with Diana. With her, he wanted more. Every time he was inside her, it was a revelation. The way her walls gripped him tight, the way she moved, the sounds she made. He couldn’t get enough.
He told himself it was the newness of it.
The fact they’d clashed so often before succumbing to the heat between them.
This thing would burn itself out. Maybe not today, and not next week.
But soon, because there was no way he could keep wanting her with this kind of intensity.
This kind of need didn’t last. It was raw, elemental, not rational or logical. It was instinct.
Her hand wrapped around his dick, stroked him firmly. He would have flipped her on her back and thrust inside her body, but she rolled to a sitting position on top of him, holding his cock while she sank down on it.
“Jesus,” he hissed when he was fully seated inside her.
She threw her hair over one shoulder, but it tumbled back in a silky waterfall. He hooked a hand behind her neck and dragged her down for a kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She rode him slowly, her hips undulating, their bodies moving in rhythm. He was happy to let her have the lead.
For now.
But when the urgency started to build in his balls, when he needed to slam home inside her and make her shout his name, he flipped her onto her back and drove into her again and again while she took everything he poured into her.
Need, loneliness, fear—a lifetime of pain that was his alone.
He told himself to throttle it back, that it was too much, that he was pushing her too hard.
“Like that, Alex—oh God, like that,” she gasped. “Yes, don’t stop…. Please don’t stop.”
Freed, he powered into her, drove her into the headboard until she braced her hands on it to hold herself in place. For him.
It happened fast. Her back bowed, her pussy squeezing him tight, his name tearing from her throat in a broken cry that included a prayer and a curse both. He drew out her orgasm as long as he could—and then he planted deep and poured himself into her, pulse after pulse, until he was drained.
“Oh damn, that was good,” she whispered up to him, one hand skimming down his back while the other threaded into his hair and held him to her as he collapsed onto her.
His heart thundered along with hers as he took them over again, taking his weight off her. He draped her on his chest, their bodies still connected, feeling every pulse and twitch of her walls around him.
“Why does that feel so fucking amazing every time?” he said between breaths. “And why do I always want more?”
She kissed his chest, her mouth moving lazily over his skin. “I have no idea, but it’s the same for me. If you’d asked me two weeks ago, I’d have said sex was nice enough but not a big deal.”
He ran a hand over her back, down to her ass, gripping a handful because he loved touching her. “Is it a big deal now?”
“It is with you.”
Those words should bother him a lot more than they did. He didn’t want her growing attached because he wasn’t staying once this mission was over.
But for the first time since his boots hit the red clay of Alabama, he wondered if he could.
He fell asleep with Diana lying on top of him, her even breathing lulling him to follow her into sleep.
For the first time in a long time, there were no wolves lurking in the shadows of his dreams.