Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“You have to go?” Makayla echoed as her stomach dropped. Of course, she knew that Van would have to return to Azure to aid in the takedown of the other head of the trafficking ring, but she thought she’d have a little more time with him.
“I won't, if you tell me not to,” he rushed to assure her, and seeing how earnestly he was worrying about her feelings, she knew she had to give him the reassurance he was seeking.
Besides, this wasn't forever. He’d come back to her, and they’d get some time to spend together to properly get to know one another.
“Did something happen with the ledger?” she asked.
“Falcon called, said they can't decipher it.
There must be a code somewhere, probably in the possession of the remaining head of the ring, so they need me to go back in and find it.
Without it, we still can't convict anyone,” Van explained.
“But I told Falcon that I needed to talk to you first, and he agreed. If you don’t want me to go, then I won't.”
Framing his face with her hands, Makayla pressed a light kiss to his lips.
“I believe you, Van, and that means so much to me. But we both know you have to do it. You have to go back undercover, you have to find the code to the ledger, destroy them, and make sure everyone connected to them is punished. You have to go back undercover,” she repeated because she got the feeling that he needed to hear it a few times before he believed it.
“Only if you're sure you're okay with it. I don’t want you to feel like I'm abandoning you when I said I'd be there for you.”
“You will be there for me. It’s not like this is forever, we can pick things back up when you come back.”
“We can?” he asked with a hint of vulnerability she was pretty sure he wouldn't like accepting, like he was just waiting for her to decide that she didn't want him after all.
Deciding he needed a moment of levity, she reached up to ruffle his hair and smiled at him. “Of course we can, silly man.”
“No one’s ever looked at me like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like I'm not a black hole sucking the life out of everything around me and drowning it in my emptiness,” he replied so seriously that her heart broke for him.
“Oh, Van. You're not a black hole. Life has sucked for you, and you learned not to trust anyone because your experience says people hurt you. But I won't hurt you. Well, I might accidentally, I'm not perfect, but I won't ever deliberately do anything to cause you harm.”
“From where I’m looking, you're pretty perfect,” he told her, those black eyes of his no longer empty like when she’d first met him, now they practically vibrated with so many emotions.
“Don’t give me any excuses this time,” she pleaded.
If she was only going to have him for a short time before he put his life on the line again to bring down a dangerous trafficking ring, she wasn't letting him go before she felt him inside her, before they joined their bodies together, before they shared intimate moments.
“Excuses?”
“I want you, Van, all of you. I want to give you all of me.” Her hands reached for his waistband, and she let out a breath when he didn't grab her and pull her away.
“If you don’t want this, I won't push it, but I'm as okay as I can be given what's happened these last couple of weeks. I'm not going to fall apart, and I know I want this more than I want to breathe. But if you don’t want—”
Not getting a chance to finish her sentence, Makayla suddenly found herself flipped over, flat on her back on the bed, with Van above her, his much larger body pressing her into the mattress, his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, and a growl rumbled through his chest. “Better not finish that sentence, sweetheart, because I want you more than I want to breathe.” He said the same thing she had seconds ago.
“But I want you to be sure. I don’t want to be one of your regrets or another person who hurts you. ”
“That will never be you, Van,” she assured him, knowing deep down in her heart it was true. Just like she might accidentally hurt him, he might accidentally hurt her, but he’d never do it on purpose, of that she was certain.
“Okay, sweetheart, then we do this my way.”
“We did it your way last time.” She pouted, her body suddenly feeling like it was on fire and only Van could put out the flames.
“You have two gunshot wounds, and your feet are messed up. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“You were shot, too. I've never seen a bruise as painful-looking as the one on your chest.” Since he wasn't wearing anything, she reached up and trailed her fingertips along the black mark.
“I'm fine.”
“Well, I'm fine too.”
“If you want to argue, we don’t have to do this, Makayla,” he told her as his lips whispered across hers. Although she chased the kiss, he moved on, trailing kiss after kiss along her jaw, and then down her neck.
“Not arguing,” she assured him, utterly convinced that if she didn't agree to let him do this his way, they wouldn't be doing it at all, and that was completely unacceptable.
“Good girl,” he praised, and one of his hands disappeared from beside her face and instead dropped between her legs, a single finger sweeping across her aching center. “You're wet. Already. And I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Of course I'm wet. I want you, you make me all hot and needy.”
A very satisfied smile crossed his face. “Good. Because you make me feel like I'm going to lose control, and I don’t like to lose control.”
“Lose control with me, Van,” she begged.
“Already am, sweetheart. You ready for me?”
“Feels like I've been waiting all my life.” Which was a strange and yet not at all unpleasant feeling.
How could she have been waiting all her life for a man she didn't know existed, who she’d met under the worst of circumstances, and when she never even thought she was ready to meet someone to share her life with?
“Same, sweetheart,” he said as he shifted so his very impressive, thick and long, erection lined up with her entrance.
He didn't give her time to prepare, to think about it.
He just pressed into her in one sharp thrust, seating himself deep, filling her up, stretching and causing the most delicious stinging burn.
“So good,” she said with a roll of her hips, urging him to start moving.
“Nuh uh,” Van said, grinning down at her. “Rules are you don’t move, remember?”
“You just want me to lay here and wait for you to do something?” she asked in what could only be described as a needy whine, as embarrassing as that was.
“Exactly what I want.”
In a very impressive move, he flipped them so she was now on top, her knees on either side of his hips, him still buried deep inside her. She gasped at the sensations the move caused, and her internal muscles clamped down around him, desperate for more.
“Simple, you move, I stop,” Van told her, amusement dancing in his previously empty eyes.
“You like torturing me, don’t you?” she demanded, with no real heat to her tone, because there really wasn't anything more deliciously torturous than the expectation of what was coming.
“Like seeing you squirm,” he agreed as his fingers swept up her sides, along the bottom of her ribcage, and then circled her pebbled nipples without actually touching them.
Since she had no doubt he would follow through on his threat to stop if she didn't just sit here and let him play with her, Makayla placed her palms on his rock-hard abs, careful not to touch the bruise on his chest and take him out of the moment.
Then she did her best not to fight to get to the end and just enjoy the journey.
And what an amazing journey it was.
His fingers seemed to be everywhere at once, but nowhere for long.
They kneaded her backside, drawing moans from her.
They feathered across her skin, one second along her stomach, the next tracing the inside of her thigh, then tracing the ridges of her ribs.
Sometimes they paused to grasp one of her nipples, rolling it between those calloused pads of his, or tweaking it just hard enough to cause the tiniest hint of pain.
Every so often, they dipped to where their bodies were joined, found her swollen bud and fondled it just long enough to make her breathing grow ragged before they disappeared to caress her someplace else.
It was maddening. It was magical. It was perfect.
It was enough to drive her higher, wilder, more desperate than she’d ever felt before. But every time she was about to beg him for more, to let her come, she remembered his warning, and bit down on her bottom lip to keep her pleas from escaping.
Sometimes his touches were firmer, more deliberate, and he watched her every expression through heavy-lidded eyes that told her he loved every second of this.
Having her all needy and at his mercy, he needed this control to maintain his emotions, and since she was benefiting from it, she certainly wasn't going to complain.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, “so perfect.”
They were going to have to address his view of her being perfect at some point. She wasn't, and his thinking that she was put a lot of pressure on her to live up to those expectations.
But when his head lifted off the pillow, his lips closed around one of her nipples, the fingers of one hand claimed her other nipple, and his other hand found her bundle of nerves, she couldn’t think any longer.
All she could do was feel.
Her body, so hyperaware of each touch, so sensitive to each swipe of his tongue as it lashed against her nipple, each swirl of the pad of his thumb across her bundle of nerves, felt everything a hundredfold.
And when pleasure lit inside her, it didn't start with the flicker of a match, it burst to life with the ferocity of a wildfire, quickly consuming her.
Fingers curled into Van’s hair, no longer able to keep silent as cries and Van’s name fell from her lips.
Everything inside her went taut, and then the orgasm tore through her.
Van’s tongue and fingers never let up, even as she felt him come inside her, and the constant stimulation on her already overstimulated body should have been too much, but instead it prolonged her pleasure, and as the wave died, his touches softened, still there, but lighter now, less insistent.
When he pulled back, she immediately leaned in to kiss him. “Thank you. That was amazing.” As she pulled back and slumped down against his chest, trying to keep her weight off his injured side, she realized they hadn't used protection. “We didn't use a condom.”
“You're on birth control, and we’re both clean,” he said.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Not going to ask how you know I'm on birth control.”
“Prey did a deep dive into you when Azure took you,” he explained, right as there was a knock on the apartment door.
“We’re going to talk about what else you know about me later,” she warned.
“Knew everything I needed to when you didn't cry that day I caned you,” he said, regret heavy in his tone as a hand ghosted over the mostly healed welts. “That’s Falcon and the others. They want to discuss how we proceed. You up for meeting some new people?”
“I'd love to meet your colleagues, and some of the other women who survived Azure. Plus, I want to hear how you guys are going to destroy Azure.”
“We can use all the input we can get. I want a plan in place quickly. Without Nathan and Mateo, it’s only me and Griffin left undercover at Azure. I want this wrapped up so I can spend every second right here inside your body. You're my light, sweetheart, and I’ll always come back to you.”
“And you're my safe place, my person to trust, the one who takes care of me while I take care of everyone around me.”
Van thought she’d saved him, and maybe she had, but he’d saved her, too. She’d healed from her childhood ordeal, but she’d never found a place to let go, a place where she didn't have to be strong all the time, and have it all together.
Now she had.
Right here in the arms of this man.
Acceptable loss has always been Griffin Finch’s mantra, and nothing and no one is going to stop him destroying Azure, at least that’s what he believes, until a curvy brunette comes along in the fourth and final book in the action packed and emotionally charged Prey Security: Undercover Team series!
Get the next book in the series, DEFENDING GRIFFIN , available now!