Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Nick stared down at Sloane, her teal-green eyes edging more toward a deep pine, her hair a perfect mess across the sheets. Hints of red hued her cheeks, the shade matching her kiss-swollen lips.
She really was stunning, and not just on the outside.
The way she’d dropped everything when he’d sent out the ECHO — gone dark from the CIA — risking more than just her career, risking her life… He knew he’d never find someone who completed him the way she did.
Who he trusted with his heart, his soul.
Sloane bit her lip, and he realized he’d been lying on top of her, lost in thought while she’d been waiting for an answer. And by the way the light dimmed in her eyes, she wasn’t convinced he was on board.
That he didn’t believe in her the way she obviously believed him.
He tsked when she started to look away, capturing her mouth in a soul-searing kiss as he angled his hips, inched inside. Her breath left her on a long hiss, her head pressing into the mattress, exposing the sleek line of her neck.
He dipped down, sucked at her pulse point, grinning at the light blemish he left on her skin as he slid forward and bottomed out. “Did you honestly think I wasn’t all-in?”
She blinked, speared her fingers into his hair, pulled him down and kissed him as if she needed his air to breathe. Needed every inch of their bodies touching as he slowly withdrew, then thrust forward, reclaiming every lost inch.
Sloane arched against him, her chest rising frantically as she clung to him, fingers digging into his skin, her ankles hugging his back. “I… god, Nick.”
Hearing his name undid him. Wrecked him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
Whether it was her voice or just the fact it was Sloane — the woman he’d been in love with for what seemed like forever — he wasn’t sure.
He only knew that it squeezed his chest, had his heart racing to the point he thought it would just explode.
He lowered, kissing her, again, needing her taste, her touch as he set up a slow rhythm. She wrapped herself around him, meeting every teasing thrust, keeping his body locked to hers. A familiar pressure built along the base of his spine, threatening to drag him under with every stroke.
Either Sloane sensed the change, or it burned through him and into her because she inhaled, whispered, “More,” a moment before he levered up and picked up the pace.
Fast, then faster, until the bed frame kept time with the rain, tapping out a similar rhythm against the metal wall. Sloane followed him up, nipping at his chest, changing the angle. He must have hit that sweet spot because she stiffened, tipped her head back, eyes rolling slightly, body spasming.
He let loose, each punishing stroke shaking the bed harder as he pushed her higher — took her to the edge before stopping.
Her eyelids flew open as he dipped his shoulder and exchanged places.
Sloane inhaled as she loomed over him, her legs hugging his hips, her hands braced on his chest, every damn inch still fully inside her.
She glanced at his thigh and arched a brow, but he simply smiled, helped her ease up his length, then slide back down.
He gritted his teeth against the assault. She was too hot, too wet, and he knew he’d never get enough. Never love her enough to kick the need strumming through his veins.
That a lifetime wouldn’t come close to being enough.
Her mouth opened in a perfect O, sweat dotting her brow, a dreamy look in her eyes as she lifted, then dropped, pushing him so damn deep, light flashed behind his eyes. He palmed her thighs, kept her anchored as she set up a pace he knew would destroy what little sanity he had left.
Their ragged breathing filled the air, all that auburn hair bouncing around her like a fiery halo. She snagged her lip between her teeth, head tipping back as a strangled cry tore from her lips.
Nick pushed up, trapped her between his chest and thighs, her breath catching at the new position. She locked her gaze on his, still moving as he ran one hand across her jaw, speared his fingers through her hair — tugged until she responded with a guttural moan.
He added a sharp tilt of his hips, growling when she rasped his name. “Christ, Sloane, what you do to me.”
She closed the distance, kissed him until his lungs burned, all that heat in his spine tearing through his resolve. He took a chance, started thrusting from beneath, each stroke hitching her voice higher until she arched back over his thighs, trusting him to keep her from falling.
He cinched his hands around her waist, watched her tip over the edge, his name a rough plea as she spasmed around him, fingers digging into his shoulders. He lost it — started pushing up into her as he chased his release.
Sloane cried out, muscles clenching, her body squeezing him so damn tight, it took all his strength to keep moving. He thought about stopping — flipping her over, pounding into her from behind, but he was too far gone.
Too close to the edge to play.
He managed another few minutes before the blaze ignited, and everything exploded in a wash of bright light.
He gave in to the rush of heat, emptied inside her in a series of stabbing thrusts, finally collapsing into her arms once the fire had ebbed, left him drifting in a numbing haze. Her head fell forward, her face buried against his shoulder as they sat there, fully entwined, hearts racing.
The rain eased beyond the window, the waves still roaring against the cliff when Nick finally opened his eyes. Sloane curled into him, holding him tight, body shaking through her shuddering breaths.
He smoothed his fingers along her cheek, tilted her gaze to meet his. A few tears dotted her face, though he suspected they were the happy kind. A testament that he’d pushed her past her limits, the way she’d pushed him.
He dipped forward, took her mouth in a soft kiss. “If that’s any indication of how it’s always going to be between us, you might kill me before this Reaper guy has a chance.”
She laughed, chin quivering as she swallowed. Hard. “That… You… I’ve never…”
He simply smiled, kissed her again. Longer, deeper. “Me, neither, sweetheart.” He thumbed her jaw. “Would you like to have a shower, or are we throwing caution to the wind, saying fuck it, and passing out?”
“Ignoring the fact I’m not sure I can even walk, what are the chances we’ll have time in the morning?”
“With everyone searching for answers? I’d say left of zero.”
That earned him a chuckle before she tilted her head, looked at him as if he’d freed her soul. “You won’t let me fall, right? Because my legs…”
“Never.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Unless you’re falling for me.”
“Already did that.”
He froze for a moment, the honesty in her voice more than humbling before he grinned, nuzzled her neck. “Good, then you’ve almost caught up to me. C’mon.”
It took a moment to roll, actually peel himself off her when all he wanted was more time.
Sloane stood on shaky legs, looking as wrecked as he felt as he tossed her a hoodie, tugged on some boxers and a shirt, then took her hand in his.
He stayed close, ready to hike her into his arms if she so much as twitched wrong, as they crept out of their room, down a couple doors to a shower room.
The water hissed as he turned on the taps, warming enough they wouldn’t freeze before he ushered her beneath the spray.
They didn’t linger, washing the important parts before grabbing towels and drying off.
Nick tsked when she leaned against the counter, looking as if she wanted to sleep right there, before gathering her in his arms, heading back to their room.
Sloane sighed. “I could have walked.”
“I know. That’s not why I’m carrying you.”
“Then, why?”
He stopped at their door, kicked it open. “Can I just take care of you for a bit without you thinking I’m questioning your strength?”
Her mouth hinged open before she shook her head. “And just like that, I’ve fallen even more.” She lifted her head, kissed him. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “For shutting up?”
“Absolutely.” She traced her thumb along his jaw. “And for loving me.”
He elbowed the door shut, then crossed to the bed, placed her on the edge. “Couldn’t stop if I tried. Now, scoot. Something tells me we’re not going to get much sleep before someone’s busting down the door with new intel.”
Sloane’s breath caught, the weight of his words filling the room before she shuffled over, curling into his chest as soon as he slipped beneath the covers, her head tucked into his shoulder, one hand resting on his ribs.
He gathered her close, drinking in the hint of citrus on her skin from the soap mixed with a sweet scent that was uniquely hers. One he knew he’d recognize anywhere.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, loving the way her breath feathered across his skin, her gentle weight grounding him. While he’d had a handful of relationships — lovers, really — they’d never felt this right. This was freeing. As if he’d been playing the part before instead of living.
Sloane hummed, drawing abstract patterns on his chest. “When this is over, you owe me a full week in bed. Just us. No assassins. No teammates ready to barge in.”
“I can promise the bed and no teammates, but no assassins… Sweetheart, that’s just another day in the life.”
“The one you were supposed to leave behind.”
“I tried. They followed me.”
“Fair.” She smiled against his skin. “Fine, I’ll settle for the bed and no buddies walking in on us. But there had better be a view.”
“Trust me, it can’t get any better than from where I’m looking, right now.”
Sloane stilled, then levered up, kissed him. He palmed her shoulder, slid one hand up into her hair, held her as he responded in kind, deepening the kiss once they’d grabbed a breath. Heat built beneath his skin, that one small act quickly escalating.