7. Rand #2
I groan against her mouth, worshipping the lips that just brought me one of the greatest highs of my life.
Her hands tug at my shirt, and I obediently strip for her. My trembling fingers fumble at her clothes, too. I need to feel her against me, nothing separating us.
When we’re both naked, I find the strength to lift her up and place her on our bed. I arrange her body over mine, and she tucks her head beneath my chin with a happy sigh.
“That was amazing,” she says.
“I should’ve made you come first,” I reply regretfully. “I lost control.”
She flashes me that bratty grin. “Good. I wanted you to.”
I rub my thumb over her lips. “That mouth. What am I going to do with you?”
Her expression sobers slightly. “You’re going to let me explore you for a while. I want to see you.”
Her hand splays over my chest, directly over my heart.
My stomach dips. She’s talking about the tattoos.
“Do they scare you?” I ask, tense.
“A little,” she admits. “This is…a lot. But I’m giving us a chance. I can’t ignore what’s happened between us. You’ve known me as Karolina for years, but I’m only starting to really know you. Let me.”
I nod tightly. I’m afraid she’ll run from me again if I allow her to examine the tattoos too closely—the physical signs of my obsession with her.
“You shouldn’t have blindfolded me last time,” she admonishes, but it’s a gentle rebuke. “You hid these from me.”
She traces the curve of her tattooed cheek where it’s inked into my upper arm, and I can’t suppress a shudder of desire at the tender touch.
“I know I was wrong. I should’ve told you who I am at the hunt. I’m sorry.”
She presses her finger to my lips. “That’s enough apologizing. I need to take a few minutes to process this.”
She peers into my eyes. “Are you wearing contacts?” She glances at the glasses I discarded when we undressed.
My stomach dips. Does she suspect the contacts are concealing my true eye color: blue?
That was one defining characteristic that the shotgun blast didn’t change. The brown lenses I’ve been wearing as Rand have fooled her so far.
She sighs. “The glasses are fake, aren’t they?”
I force myself to maintain eye contact. “Yes. I thought they made me look more academic.”
It’s the truth. Barely.
To my surprise, she huffs a laugh. “I kind of like the slutty little glasses, Professor.”
She plucks them up from the nightstand and slides them onto my face.
“Have I mentioned smart guys are a turn-on?”
I can’t help grasping her hips and pulling her cunt closer to my cock. My dick stiffens beneath her.
She blinks. “Already?”
“I’m always ready for you,” I confess.
She taps my nose. “I’m not finished yet. Wait.”
I growl in warning, but she just releases a smug hum. She knows I won’t do anything without her permission. I pretend to be in charge, but she has me on a leash.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My breath catches when she traces the outline of her name over my heart.
“You know my real name,” she says. “I shouldn’t like it as much as I do when I hear you say it.” Her peridot eyes pierce my soul. “You’re the only person in the world who knows me now.”
My stomach churns. Yes, I know everything about her.
But she can never know everything about me. I won’t risk losing her if she learns the extent of my lies and my inner demons.
I shudder when she finds the long, thin scar across my abs. I’m not entirely unscathed from my years as an assassin, even though my face is whole now from the surgery.
“How did this happen?” she asks.
“In a fight.”
Her lips press together, and for a moment, I fear she won’t accept that half-truth.
Then she leans down a presses a tender kiss over the mark of my pain.
I can’t help myself; I grip her hips and roll atop her.
“I need you.”
She spreads her legs in invitation. “Then take me.”
I blindly grope for my pants where I left them beside the bed and find a condom in the back pocket. I wish I could side into her wet heat without a barrier between us, but I know she’s not on birth control.
Soon, I’ll come inside her tight cunt. I resolve to make the arrangements as soon as possible.
I reach between us and test her arousal. Her inner thighs are slick with her desire for me.
“I’m ready,” she assures me. “Fuck me.”
“Such a greedy girl.”
I slide two fingers into her pussy, ensuring she’s prepared for me. She wriggles and whines, so I capture her wrists in one hand and pin them to the pillow above her.
“Tell me you want me,” I command.
I circle her clit with my thumb. At the same time, I dip my head to her chest and flick my tongue over her taut nipple. Her back arches, and she wraps her legs around my hips, struggling to draw me closer.
“Please, Rand. I need you inside me. I want you.”
That’s more than enough to snap my control. I quickly sheathe myself in the condom and line up my cock with her slick entrance. Her heels dig into my ass, urging me to penetrate her.
I push into her in a slow slide, gritting my teeth as I attempt to hold back the savagery of my lust. She rocks her hips, joining us completely.