Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
J asmine moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets as Patrick’s tongue slicked through her folds, hot and unrelenting.
“Oh, God?—”
She was past the point of thinking. Of reason. All that existed was this —the slow, devastating torture of his mouth on her, his strong hands pinning her thighs apart, holding her exactly where he wanted her.
It was madness.
A few hours ago, he’d rescued her from Amir. And now she was in his bed, trembling beneath him, undone by his touch.
She should have been afraid of a man like Patrick Burke—towering, lethal, honed by war and discipline. A man who could kill with his bare hands. Who had thrown himself into enemy fire without hesitation.
But here, with her, he was gentle. Devastatingly, ruinously skilled.
He flicked his tongue over her clit, sending a sharp bolt of pleasure up her spine. She gasped, arching, desperate for more, for everything.
She thrust toward him, shameless in her need.
Patrick growled against her skin, a deep, feral sound that sent liquid heat pooling low in her belly.
Damn, the man was thorough. Focused. As if this was just another mission—one he refused to fail. He devoured her like she was his last meal, his tongue working her clit with ruthless precision, his lips wrapping around it before sucking just right.
She shattered.
The orgasm slammed into her, her entire body bowing off the bed, thighs shaking against his shoulders. She cried out as the pleasure wrecked her, wave after wave, spiraling through her like an electrical surge.
Patrick didn’t stop. Didn’t let up. His tongue lapped at her like he owned her, like he couldn’t get enough. She twisted beneath him, overwhelmed, gasping his name.
Only when her body finally sagged against the sheets did he lift his head, his mouth glistening, his expression dark with satisfaction.
She grabbed his face, pulling him up until his weight covered her. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
“My whole body is tingling,” she whispered, dazed.
Patrick chuckled darkly against her lips. “Good.” His voice was a low, rough drawl. “That’s nothing compared to what I’m gonna do to you next.”
A delicious shiver rolled through her.
He brushed his lips over her jaw, her throat. “You okay with that?”
She felt him then. Pressed hard and hot against her thigh.
Oh, Lord.
Her eyes flicked down.
Holy crap. Would she even be able to take that inside of her? A bolt of nerves shot through her. It had been so long . Adam hadn’t touched her in years. Would she even remember how to do this?
She gulped, her desire overcoming her fear. “Yeah, I’m more than okay with it.”
He leaned over and rummaged in the beside drawer for a condom. “Think I’ve got some lying around in here somewhere.”
She smiled as he searched. “Don’t worry, I’m safe.”
He frowned. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I had a hysterectomy after Ryan was born. There were complications.” She pulled him back toward her. “I trust you.”
“I’m clean,” he said, as his lips brushed hers. His voice was molten, thick with need.
“I believe you.”
He took her hand and guided it between them, wrapping her fingers around his length.
Oh, God.
He was thick, solid heat in her grip, velvety skin over rigid steel. He hissed when she stroked up his shaft, his breath coming out in a low growl.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
Tentatively, she moved her hand, up, then down, watching his face. His jaw clenched, his eyes dark and intense as he thrust against her grip.
“Shit, Jasmine.” His voice was strained, his control slipping. “If you keep that up, I won’t last.”
“Isn’t that the point?” she teased, her voice husky, emboldened by his reaction.
His nostrils flared, and suddenly, she was flat on her back again, his body caging hers, his lips devouring hers with a hunger that stole her breath away.
He rocked against her, his cock sliding against her slick folds, teasing her entrance.
She gasped. “Patrick?—”
“You ready?” His voice was strained, every muscle in his body held taut, shaking with restraint.
She nodded, heart pounding. She didn’t think she’d ever been this ready.
He pressed inside, slow, careful, stretching her inch by agonizing inch.
“Oh—” She gasped, clutching at his shoulders. His thick, hard length filled her to the core.
“Relax,” he rasped against her skin.
He kissed her, coaxing, patient, letting her feel him . Letting her get used to the sheer size of him. She could feel his body trembling with the effort.
She breathed out, forcing her body to relax. Then he rolled his hips, pushing deeper.
She cried out, pleasure shooting through her.
Patrick groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder. “Fuck, Jasmine.”
She clung to him, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the intimacy, by him .
And then he moved.
Oh. God.
Slow, deep thrusts, each one sending her spiraling higher. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her fingers digging into his back as he rocked into her, stretching her, filling her like no one else ever had.
“You feel incredible,” he groaned against her ear.
“So do you,” she gasped, before he thrust again, and she was lost.
Patrick stared down at her. “Look at me, Jasmine.”
She hesitated, the intensity in his gaze terrifying.
“Look at me,” he ordered, driving deeper.
She met his eyes.
Her breath caught.
There was something there—something raw, something she wasn’t ready to name.
It frightened her.
But then he moved again, his rhythm increasing, and thought dissolved.
He rose up, gripping her hips, tilting her just right.
She cried out, her body clenching around him.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gritted out, driving deeper, harder, until she was writhing beneath him, hanging on for dear life.
It was too much. Too good.
His muscles bunched under her hands, his jaw clenched with restraint. But then she arched up, wrapping her legs around him, and he lost it.
He thrust harder, deeper, his control snapping.
“Yes, yes —” She gasped, head falling back, chasing the pleasure building inside her.
Patrick slammed into her, relentless, pushing her higher, higher?—
And then she shattered.
Her orgasm slammed through her like a tidal wave, pulling her under.
She screamed his name, her body wracked with tremors as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
Patrick groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his breath harsh against her neck.
Then, with a low, guttural growl, he drove deep one last time, his body stiffening as he found his release. She felt him pulse inside her, filling her with heat, his breath ragged as he buried his face in her neck.
Her entire body was limp, boneless, her heart still racing.
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe .
Patrick let out a slow breath, rolling onto his side and pulling her with him, his arms still locked around her.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, he brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead, his voice rough. “I just want you to know, this was not what I had in mind when I brought you back to my place.”
She let out a breathless laugh. His arms were warm around her, and she curled into him. “It doesn’t matter. For the first time in a long while, I feel safe.”