Chapter 4 #2
Shifting my grip, I frame her jaw. The delicate texture of her skin makes my calloused palms feel rough as gravel. Tilting her chin upward ensures she meets my stare.
"I'm kissing you now."
The declaration hangs in the air, a heavy warning.
Parting her lips just a fraction, she offers a silent invitation.
I crash my mouth down on hers.
The brutal claiming slams our bodies together. My mouth devours hers, a starving man finally tasting his first meal. Coffee mixes with mint across her tongue, entirely intoxicating.
A desperate whimper vibrates in the back of her throat, sending a surge of blood straight to my groin. Her fingers tangle tightly in my hair, dragging my face closer.
Groaning into her mouth, my tongue sweeps past her teeth, dominating the wet heat inside. Consuming her entirely becomes my only goal, erasing Kaila Reyes until only Kaila Gunnar remains.
Sliding my hands from her jaw, I push the heavy leather aside to grip her bare shoulders. My thumbs trace the sharp line of her collarbone directly over the frantic thrum of her pulse.
Her hips jolt upward with every shift of my grip. My tongue strokes deep, turning her muscles to liquid.
Tearing my mouth away, I rest my forehead against hers, hauling oxygen into my lungs. Harsh pants echo loudly over the cooling fans.
"You have zero idea," I growl. "Keeping my hands off you requires actual physical agony."
"Your hands are definitely on me right now," she notes, her vocal cords completely wrecked.
A dark, rough chuckle vibrates in my chest. "This is absolute restraint, Little Ghost."
Sweeping my palm beneath the hem of her tank top, my callouses scrape across her burning flesh. My fingers map the bumps of her spine, tracing the delicate column with territorial accuracy.
"Daniel," she moans, arching her back into my solid grip.
"Yeah?"
"Don't stop."
The breathless demand obliterates my control.
Sweeping my hand around to her ribs, I roughly cup her breast through the thin lace of her bra. She cries out, bucking her hips straight off the seat.
"You like that?" I murmur. Rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I pinch the tight peak.
"Yes," she hisses. "God, yes."
Shoving my free arm across the desk, I clear the surface in one violent sweep. Keyboards, papers, and empty coffee mugs crash to the floorboards.
Gripping her thighs, I hoist her out of the chair and plant her onto the hard edge of the desk.
Her legs immediately clamp around my waist, heels digging firmly into my lower back. Rough denim scrapes against the soft, bare skin of her inner thighs. The burning heat of her crotch aligns perfectly with my straining erection.
Burying my face in her neck again, I sink my teeth lightly into the sensitive cord of muscle.
"You drive me completely feral," I mutter against her ear.
"Good," she pants. Her nails scrape down my back, tracking the bunch and flex of my lats. "I want you completely ruined."
A harsh breath punches out of my lungs. "Careful what you wish for."
Hooking my wrists under her thighs, I hike her higher and yank her flush against my pelvis. My hips snap forward, initiating a slow, heavy grind that presses my thick cock directly against her wet heat.
The punishing friction through the layers of denim and cotton nearly blows my mind.
"Daniel," she moans, throwing her head back to expose the long stretch of her pale throat.
Trailing open-mouthed kisses down her throat, I bite at her collarbone before targeting the high swell of her breast.
"I need to see you," I demand.
Hooking my fingers under the thin straps of her top, I drag them downward. She eagerly shrugs the cotton off, letting it pool around her hips.
A deep, mottled flush paints her chest, her hard nipples stabbing against the sheer white lace of her bra.
Leaving the undergarment exactly where it sits, I opt for pure torture. Dragging this out feeds the beast in my blood.
Dragging my callouses roughly over the lace, I watch her eyelids flutter shut in pure ecstasy.
"Perfect," I rumble.
Leaning down, I fasten my mouth right over the lace-covered peak.
A raw, uninhibited scream tears from her lungs. I swallow the sound, suckling her violently through the mesh. The abrasive fabric generates a vicious friction that sends her writhing against my chest.
Her fingernails dig into my scalp, locking my head against her chest. "More. Please, Daniel."
Shifting to the opposite breast, I bite the tight bud while my heavy palm slides flat down her stomach, dipping straight past the rigid denim waistband of her jeans.
Pressing my wide palm flush against her cotton panties, the sheer heat radiating off her crotch burns my skin. Slick moisture has completely soaked the gusset.
"Wet for me," I note, peering up at her flushed face. The blood roars violently in my ears.
"I can't help it."
"Don't ever stop. I want you dripping. I need you completely slick for my cock."
Driving the heel of my hand hard against her clit, I apply a punishing, steady circular pressure directly over the damp cotton.
A wrecked sob tears from her throat as she bucks into the friction. "Daniel, please. I need..."
"Tell me what you need," I order, grinding my palm faster.
"I need you inside me."
The raw demand slams directly into my chest. Tunnel vision darkens the edges of the room. Raw instinct demands I shred her pants, free my straining cock, and bury myself to the hilt right on top of this cluttered desk. Marking her deep would permanently brand her as mine.
Ripping myself backward, I haul air into my lungs. Violent tremors wrack my arms as I rest my sweaty forehead against hers.
"No," I rasp.
Her dark eyes struggle to focus. "What?"
"Not yet."
"Why?" Her vocal cords crack, entirely wrecked.
Locking both hands on either side of her jaw, I anchor her gaze to mine. "Eight months of Costa hell still clings to your skin."
"I don't care about that," she chokes out.
"I do."
Crashing my mouth against hers one last time, I deliver a hard, intensely territorial kiss.
"When I finally take you," I swear, the gravelly vow vibrating between us, "I refuse to settle for a hurried fuck on a desk while anticipating another digital attack. A careful, excruciatingly slow claiming comes next. And it happens only when you're completely secure."
Forcing my spine straight requires every ounce of willpower I possess. My aching balls throb in vicious protest.
Snatching up the heavy cut from the back of the desk, I haul the leather over her exposed chest. Yanking the lapels tightly together hides her swollen breasts from view.
"Work awaits," I note, clearing the grit from my throat. "Kevin's signal continues bouncing. Stabilizing the trace before sunrise remains priority one."
She sits entirely still, her chest heaving heavily beneath my club patch. Swollen, reddened lips and disheveled dark hair paint the picture of a thoroughly fucked woman, despite leaving my pants zipped.
Staring up at me, the hazy lust in her dark eyes slowly morphs into crystal-clear understanding.
"You're a stubborn ass, you know that?" she whispers.
"I'm a Gunnar," I reply, pivoting back to the glowing monitors to prevent myself from throwing her on the floor. "Stubborn runs deep in the marrow."
Dropping into the spare rolling chair, I forcefully regulate my oxygen intake.
"Daniel?"
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch her clutching my leather around her throat like a shield.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
A low grunt rumbles in my chest as I fixate on the cascading code. "Save your gratitude. We haven't extracted him yet."
My heavy fingers hit the keyboard. The burning phantom heat of her skin remains permanently branded across my callouses.
Burning the entire town of Pine Valley to ash suddenly seems a reasonable price to keep the devotion blazing in her eyes. The mutual knowledge of zero retreat anchors us both.
Mine. The next time her back hits that particle board, absolutely zero fabric will survive my blade.
Logging into the encrypted comms channel, a green message bubble from Austin immediately flashes in the corner.
Perimeter secure. Shane found tracks near the north ridge. Wolf.
I hammer out a rapid response.
Copy. Keep eyes open. Costas are hitting the digital fence. Desperation might push them toward the physical perimeter.
Shifting my focus back to Kaila, I find her knees pulled tight to her chest. Wrapped safely in my leather, her dark eyes track my every keystroke.
"Get some sleep, Ghost," I instruct. "I've got the watch."
She stubbornly anchors her chin on her knees. "I refuse to sleep while you work."
"Stubborn," I mutter.
"I learn from the best."
The wheels of her chair squeak over the carpet as she rolls closer, closing the distance until our forearms press firmly together. A silent sentinel settling firmly at my side.
For the first time in an entire decade, the quiet lacks its usual hollow ring. A solid anchor replaces the void.
Returning my attention to the glowing screen, violent strategies dominate my thoughts.
The Costas want a war, and I fully plan to obliterate their entire operation, brick by digital brick.
My heavy boot taps the floorboards as the terminal hums. The solid heat of Kaila's arm presses firmly against my bicep, grounding the rage into lethal focus. Keeping her secure means finishing this job.