Chapter Twenty
Danny stood frozen in Bella’s living room, the scent of honeyed jasmine and citrus surrounding him as Bella stared up at him.
He’d been a Navy SEAL, for Christ’s sake. He ran toward danger.
Thrived on it.
Staring into Bella’s stormy eyes, he realized a hard truth. This pint-sized woman scared the hell out of him. There was only one time in his life when he’d run away—the first time he’d laid his hands on her and buried himself deep inside her.
But he wasn’t running this time. Even if it would be better for Bella.
He was done being noble.
Done doing the right thing.
His arms came around her, securing her firmly against him so she could feel his answer.
“Are. You. Sure?” He enunciated his words.
Her grip on his shoulders tightened. “Yes.”
No hesitation.
He fought the instinct to claim her mouth, his body trembling with the effort to go slow. Instead, he bent and scooped her into his arms.
Trip bounded ahead of him as he took the stairs two at a time.
Bella gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not fucking you in your living room, honey.”
Her pupils flared.
“This time, we’re doing it the right way. In a bed where I can take my time.”
“Sorry, buddy,” he told Trip. “We don’t need an audience.” Danny closed the door with his foot, leaving the dog on the other side.
Then he laid Bella on her bed and straightened slowly, taking her in.
The tousled ponytail. The short-sleeved blue knit shirt that hugged her breasts. The jean shorts that exposed smooth, tanned legs. And those toes painted a hot pink.
Damn. Maybe he had a foot fetish.
That’s where he’d start.
Sitting on the bed, he cupped her foot, his fingers ghosting across her toes.
She giggled, trying to pull away. But he held on, kissing each toe before putting his mouth on her ankle and dragging his lips across the satiny skin of her calf up to the soft underside of her knee. He licked her there, and she gasped.
The soft sound sent a shock of electricity straight to his dick.
The last time he’d touched her like this, it had been desperation. Grief.
This time would be slow. Deliberate.
“You taste good, Bella.” His hand smoothed over her knee to glide up her thigh, beneath the hem of her shorts. “And I haven’t even gotten to the best part.”
“Don’t tease.” Her hips moved, restless, seeking a relief he wasn’t ready to give her yet.
“Not teasing. Tasting.”
His attention shifted to her hair, removing the elastic tie that kept it bound, letting the silken strands fall through his fingers.
The shell of her ear beckoned him next. He traced it with his tongue and was rewarded when Bella trembled.
So sweet and tempting. He wouldn’t rush. If this was the only chance he ever got to touch her again, he intended to imprint on his memory every sigh and every moan. The feel of her skin. The scent of her hair.
The taste of her arousal.
His lips slid down her jaw to the crease at the corner of her mouth. A nip at her lush bottom lip, then a swipe of his tongue.
Cinnamon. Sweet and spicy.
The need to possess her raged in his blood.
Slow. Steady. He clung to the mantra like a man hanging off the edge of a cliff.
He kept his kisses leisurely, coaxing her into twining their tongues together as he explored her mouth.
Tentative at first, Bella grew emboldened, her arms joining around his neck, fingers delving into his hair, nails scoring his scalp as he stoked the fire burning between them. Her touch was a brand, tattooing her name on his skin.
One he had a feeling would never fade.
“Danny,” she moaned, and the sound rushed to his cock, making his hips jerk.
That’s what he wanted. His name on her lips. Breathless. Hungry. He moved to the sensitive skin at her neck and sucked hard, leaving his mark for the world to see.
Mine.
The curve of her breasts beneath her shirt taunted him. He palmed them and squeezed. So soft and full.
“I want to see you.” Deftly, he undid the top button, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. Then he unfastened another.
Her eyes narrowed. She pushed against his chest and sat up. “Too slow.”
Unbuttoning the rest, she shrugged off the top.
“Someone’s impatient.” Danny’s chuckle got strangled in his throat when Bella reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting the nude fabric fall down her arms before dropping it over the side of the mattress.
She motioned with her hand. “You, too.”
He furrowed his brows at her words, his brain short-circuiting at the sight of her bare breasts with their tight pink tips.
“The shirt—ditch it.” Her face was flushed, eyes bright with hunger.
The offending garment sailed over his head to land somewhere behind him. He returned his attention to her breasts, marveling at the feel of his callused palms scraping over the soft, satiny mounds, their rosy peaks beckoning his mouth.
Leaning in, he suckled her, reveling in the arch of her back, her quiet moans that ignited his blood and sent need raging through him like a forest fire.
More. He needed more of her.
His hands shaped and molded her breasts, then her ribs, his mouth following until he reached the waistband of her shorts.
The zipper hissed its way down.
He slid down the bed, dragging her shorts and panties past her feet, then positioned himself between her legs.
Damn.
His sweet, proper Bella waxed.
Or shaved. Either way, she was bare.
That he hadn’t expected.
“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was little more than a rasp. He’d spent years telling himself she was off-limits. His sister’s friend. Someone he should never have touched.
But staring at her now, that lie shattered.
The glistening folds of her pussy were wet. For him.
He swiped a finger through her slit and brought her sweetness to his mouth.
Familiar. Unmistakably Bella.
Lowering his head, he feasted.
“Oh, God.” Her hands slapped against the headboard, knees squeezing his shoulders as he tongued her clit.
The throb of his dick grew more insistent. If he didn’t regain control, he’d come before he ever got inside her.
And that wasn’t happening.
He slid a finger into her, then two. Slick heat coated his hand, her inner walls clenching around him.
Bella’s mewling cries, her obvious pleasure, heightened his own. Made him feel downright predatory. He was the one who brought her pleasure. Only him.
God help any other man who tried to touch what belonged to him.
So much for taking his time. He needed to be inside her. Now.
“Come for me, Bella.” He returned his tongue to her clit, increasing the speed and intensity of his strokes. When her body drew up like a bowstring, he gently bit down.
She let out a keening cry, her clit throbbing against his tongue, her pussy trying to suck his fingers deeper inside. He kept going, drawing her orgasm out until her hips collapsed onto the mattress, her knees falling open in surrender.
A light sheen of sweat coated her skin. He licked her inner thigh, tasting salt, honey, and Bella.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Just…wow.” Lines appeared between her forehead and a tinge of pink dusted her cheeks. “What about you?”
He grinned. “I’m just getting started.”
“Good.” Bella’s fingers delved into his hair, applying upward pressure. “Because I need more than your fingers inside me.” Her voice was so damn sexy, a sensual purr he’d never heard from her before.
He let her drag him up to her face and kissed her, sharing the taste of her on his lips. He could spend all day exploring her mouth, but the savage need ripping through him demanded more.
Condom. His hand reached back and flailed for the wallet tucked into the back pocket of his tactical pants. Removing the packet he kept there, he shucked his pants and briefs, then used his teeth to rip open the foil and quickly sheathed himself.
Moving over Bella, he braced his hands on either side of her head and met her eyes. The dazed, sated look she’d had a moment ago was gone, replaced with hunger and a need that nearly took out his knees.
The past rose to meet him. Bella’s desire-drugged eyes staring up at him, still innocent. Trusting.
“One last chance to tell me to stop,” he growled, now, like he had then. He was hanging on by a damn thread, and if she did tell him to stop, he’d have to drown himself in the shower with the water cranked all the way to arctic to recover.
Bella’s soft hands cupped his jaw. “I don’t want to stop.”
Same answer she’d given him thirteen years ago.
Thank fuck.
He gathered her hands and pinned them over her head, then thrust his hips. A groan tore from him as her tight, wet sheath protested his invasion. His thrusts were shallow, testing his control as he worked his way inside her, staying focused on her face for any sign he was hurting her.
“You feel so fucking good.”
He kept his gaze locked with hers as he seated himself fully, stopping long enough to let her body accommodate him.
Those beautiful eyes were doing that thing again, the one where she seemed to see through to his soul.
His chest tightened, and he slammed his lids shut, afraid she’d see the guilt, the regrets he still harbored.
How much of the messed-up teenage boy still lived in his head.
Nails scored the backs of his hands from where he held her in place. “Don’t think, Danny. Feel.”
He thrust his hips hard at her words.
Again. And again.
He could spend the rest of his life inside her. He set a steady pace, keeping his focus on her—every nuance of her expression. The flare in her eyes when he hit that spot that parted her lips in a moan. His balls drew up. Already he could feel her tighten around him, gripping his cock.
Not yet.
Not until he made her come again.
He bent over her, latching onto the tip of her breast, and hollowed out his cheeks. His fingers drifted down the side of her ribs and in between their bodies until he reached her clit. Stroking firmly, he swept her over the edge.
She gripped his hair, her voice hoarse as she screamed her pleasure. Her body fisted his in a vise that cannonballed him into his own orgasm. A few hard strokes, then blinding pleasure detonated behind his eyes.
In. Out.
His lungs dragged in desperately needed air.