Chapter 11 #2
She leaned in, nipping at his lower lip. Smiling at his hushed curse. “I can live with that.”
He arched a brow. “You sure?”
“Don’t you Americans ever shut up?”
More of that sinful grin, then he was claiming her mouth.
Pinning her to the wall. She wasn’t sure how the next hour would pan out.
If they’d make it to the bed, or if he’d simply take her there.
The wood paneling rubbing against her back.
Anything that kept the encounter primal.
Like their feelings. If he’d stay the night or vanish into the darkness.
While she wanted to believe this was more than just a familiar one-off, she wasn’t naive.
They’d just escaped armed men. Had played a deadly game of hide and seek. So, blowing off steam was normal. And there was no better adrenaline release than sex. That coupled with their history...
What was that saying? The perfect storm?
Which meant staying in the moment. Bleeding every bit of life out of this one encounter. Make sure these memories lasted a lifetime. She hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye, before. So, if this was how they’d leave things...
A shift of his head, and he’d deepened the kiss. Had her seeing those dots, again. Only this time, it wasn’t the lack of oxygen. It was him. Ethan Vale. The man who’d stolen her heart. Who’d be the benchmark no other man would ever reach.
Though, with a price on her head, maybe she wouldn’t have to worry. Wouldn’t live long enough to suffer having Ethan leave. Walk away like she’d done. The ultimate payback.
Concerns for later. Because, now...
Those magic hands of his were tugging on her jumper. Lifting it up and over her head. A flash of black fabric, then those hazel eyes, again. Even darker as he stared down at her.
It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t moving. Was simply standing there, mouth pursed slightly, one hand thumbing the edge of her bra. Had he changed his mind? Was put off by the new scattering of scars crisscrossing her body? Had he somehow fallen asleep on his feet?
She forced herself to breathe, to get her lips to work. “Ethan?”
If he noticed the hint of uncertainty in her voice, he didn’t react. Instead, he shook his head, grabbing the band of her bra. “These sports ones are harder than hell to get off. You’re gonna have to work with me, sweetheart.”
He was frowning because he couldn’t get her bra off fast enough? That she wasn’t naked, yet?
“Olivia... You need to bend forward a bit.”
Bend forward? Why wasn’t he cutting the damn thing off? She suspected he probably had a knife stashed somewhere. Sure, not the hoards that Gibson carried, but all of Ethan’s Delta buddies had a KA-BAR or two.
No time to worry. She just leaned forward.
Had her arms over her head in record time, shimmying back and forth as he gently worked the material up her chest then over her head.
There was a scuff somewhere behind her as he tossed it aside, then his hands were on her skin.
But they weren’t moving up—covering her breasts.
Giving her a hint of relief from the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach. The needy feeling between her legs.
Instead, he smoothed his hands down her ribs, tugged at her trousers. A few of her tools fell on the floor—probably rolled under the small night table or bed. She didn’t care. She’d find them later. Hell, she’d get London to send her more, because she was completely nude.
Somewhere between her wishing they were naked and getting distracted by the sound of the items scattering across the floor, he’d removed the rest of her clothes. Even her boots.
Had she blacked out? Stood there staring blankly at him as he bent down and undressed her? She couldn’t remember. Couldn’t find the strength to ask as he pressed against her, his fingers drawing lazy circles across her hip.
He wasn’t naked. His shirt lightly abrading her nipples, his trousers rubbing against her thighs. And was that his gun poking her in the stomach or his cock? Either way, he needed to strip. Fast. Five minutes ago, if he could manage it.
She fisted his shirt, but the bastard boxed her in, keeping her from lifting it off. “Damn it, Ethan, get starkers, already.”
He chuckled, then cupped her chin as he tilted her head up. “Starkers?”
“Starkers.” She huffed at his arched brow. “In the buff. Naked. Bloody hell, don’t you speak English?”
“Is that what that was? Though…” He slid his fingers back until he could wrap them around her hair. Hold her still. “I have to admit. The accent is surprisingly hot.”
She paused to see if he’d meant more by that statement. If, maybe, he wasn’t quite willing to forgive her enough to make a night of it, after all. When he simply stood there, toying with her hair, lips slightly parted. His breath rasping across her face, she smiled.
“Well, then, stop blocking me, and we can get to the shagging part.”
He grinned, the cocky bastard, then stepped back.
He held up one hand, halting her until he’d removed his holster—laid his weapons and a couple of foil packets on the night table.
Then, he was back, bending slightly, allowing her to yank his shirt over his head.
A quick flick at his waist, and she had the button open, had lowered the fly.
A few more agonizing seconds, and he’d toed off his boots and kicked his trousers and underwear across the floor. Was gloriously nude.
No man should look that good. That perfect.
Muscles rippling beneath smooth skin. A patch of hair at his chest. Not much, just enough to lose the pretty-boy vibe.
Give him a hint of ruggedness. She took a moment to savor it.
Drink in every detail in case this was the last time she got to see him this way.
Then, he was moving. Reclaiming his hold. Touching as much skin as he could reach. He nipped at her ear, chuckling at her rough gasp. “First time’s gonna be fast. Hard. But, after that… We’ll have some time to play.”
After that?
She hadn’t had sex since that night before the crash—since she last had him in her arms—and he thought she’d be able to stay conscious through multiple rounds?
Christ, she was already on the verge of climaxing.
Had to squeeze her thighs together to keep from dripping onto the floor.
Sixty seconds, and she was primed and ready to explode.
Not that her condition was anything new. Ethan had always gotten her off, quickly. Zero to orgasming in under a minute. Whether it was his voice, his words or just him, she wasn’t sure. But it didn’t seem as if anything had changed.
Smug bastard seemed to know it, too. Smiled against her skin as he pulled her close. Twisted her until she was facing a small desk—had her back to him. A press of his hand between her shoulder blades and she was bent over the edge. Arse on display. Goosebumps prickling her skin.
Ethan leaned over her, his breath warm against her neck. Hands smoothing up her sides. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot it is seeing you like this? You look as desperate as I feel. And your ass… Hold on to the edge, sweetheart. Then, we’ll take it slower... Maybe.”
Olivia barely had enough time to place her hands beside her head—grasp the lip of the table—before Ethan was gently kicking her legs farther apart.
Had one hand dipping between her legs. He moaned at how wet she was, spreading the warm essence around her clit.
Taking her to within a breath of release in all of three passes.
Him chuckling didn’t help. Didn’t cool the fiery burn of her flesh. Quench the need slowly driving her mad. If he’d just press a bit harder, she’d come.
Hearing a foil packet crinkle behind her had her closing her eyes.
Anticipating that first stroke. She wasn’t sure if he’d go slowly or just slide his cock between her folds and thrust inside.
God knew she’d been ready ever since he’d grabbed her in the hall.
Since then, every action had felt more like foreplay than executing an op.
She was half surprised they hadn’t opted for a bit of hand-to-hand after entering her room.
She might have knocked him on his arse, if he hadn’t kissed her. All it had taken was one brush of his mouth against hers, and she’d been lost. Hoping this is where they’d end up. That he’d been biding his time until the moment was right as much as she had.
So, when he drew his shaft along her cleft—nudged her entrance—she followed his lead. Pushed back against him—sank those first few inches inside her.
Ethan cursed, mumbling something about trying not to hurt her. But she didn’t want him tame. She wanted the wild side of him. The one that had promised to take her hard and fast. That couldn’t think beyond how hot and wet he’d made her. Was just as lost as she was.
He slapped her arse when she tried to lever back—push him all the way inside—before sighing and hilting himself within her. From nearly nothing to full penetration—his balls slapping her flesh, his fingers digging deliciously into her hips.
“Yes.”
That’s all she could get to squeeze past her throat. Past the sudden clenching of her teeth as her body spasmed, then broke. One thrust. And she was coming. Rocking back and forth, chanting a jumbled version of his name as heat exploded out from her core, numbing everything in a soothing warmth.
Ethan leaned over her back—pressed as much of his body against hers as he licked at the shell of her ear. “Again.”
He moved. Tilted his hips back then thrust forward, setting up a blistering pace. Out, then in, then out. Over and over, never stopping until she was begging for him to make her come. To take her over, again, just like he’d said.
Ethan grunted behind her, his breathing unusually loud.
She was accustomed to hearing nothing at all.
Not a sound, unless he was talking. Knowing how affected he was undid her.
Having him choose that moment to finger her clit—squeeze it—as he bit at the muscle threading from her shoulder into her neck pushed her over.
Had her shouting his name as she pulsed around him for a second time.
“Christ, Olivia.”
Her name. He’d actually said her name. The real one that she’d wanted to tell him from the start. Not Anna. The woman who’d let him down. Who hadn’t trusted him enough to come clean.
Feeling him empty inside her kept her release going. Left her gasping for air, praying she didn’t simply collapse on the floor. That he might, at least, consider carrying her the few feet over to the bed before deciding he needed to leave.
The kiss he placed on the base of her neck surprised her. Infused a bit of energy back into her muscles. She managed to twist slightly—gaze at him across her shoulder.
Eyes bright, lips curved into a cocky smile, he didn’t look as if he was thinking of leaving. In fact, he looked as if he could go all night and the following day. As if she was his next mission.
Another kiss on her lips and damn, that one nearly made her cry. Soft. Gentle. At complete odds to how he’d just claimed her.
Ethan eased back enough to slip free. He fiddled with the condom, then reached over and scooped her up—rolled her against his chest as he made for the bed. She arched a brow when he placed her on the sheets, keeping his head level with hers.
“Like I said. Now, that we’ve taken the edge off, let’s play.”