Chapter 10 #2
“What the fuck,” I hiss, hands already reaching out to trail down her sides. I rake over every inch of my skin. No bruises, no marks. She’s fine. She’s fine. She’s fine.
She swallows. “The dress was tight. You could see the panty lines through the fabric.”
“You walked into that den of vipers looking like that with nothing on under your dress?” I growl as I come around back to her front.
“I had no intention of letting them know that,” she shoots back, jaw set stubbornly. It’s so sharp, yet it makes me want to kiss it…all of it.
My lips seek hers out immediately at the thought. Drawing her close by the back of the neck, I press my mouth against that stubbornness, eliciting a small gasp from her lips. “May I remind you that you are married.”
Fingers press tightly into my arms, holding me in place. Encouraging me on.
“I don’t hear my husband complaining.”
The hands trailing down her skin pause between her legs, where there is nothing preventing me from palming her sensitive nakedness.
Her gasp comes out as more of a moan. The sound is delicious and instantly goes straight to my cock.
“He’s not,” I whisper up her jaw.
For all her restraint, confidence, and pragmatism, it’s Mia who moves first.
In a flash, her arms are locked around my neck, holding me down to her level so that she can press her lips against mine.
It’s a filthy, filthy kiss. All teeth and tongue scraping against my own, drawing out hot, panting breaths from us both. I want all of it, need all of it. Every movement is such perfect evidence of her well-being; it soothes something deep within my soul.
My hand remains between her thighs, giving her something to grind upon as we battle for dominance. I practically whine in her mouth at her desperate thrusts.
She desires this; she desires me.
And fuck, if that doesn’t tear me apart and unleash something entirely primal within me. I feel it in the way my fingers dig into her waist, possessively.
Mine, mine, mine.
I feel it in the strain of my pants, the way my teeth gorge themselves on her neck. Claiming, marking.
Mine, mine, mine.
“If you don’t fuck me soon, I will bite off your fucking ear,” she whispers far too close to the offending appendage.
Her voice is delirious in her desperation, a perfect match for my own feelings as I push a finger through the slickness between her thighs.
There’s a cry and then, “Not that.”
I ignore her, coating my finger before pushing it against her opening. She immediately slumps against me as I press it into her.
“Not again…not…” Her voice is strangled, barely indistinguishable from her groans. “Just fuck me, please.”
But it’s intoxicating the way she crumbles under the rhythm of my hand, like I’m the only thing holding her up. It’s so vulnerable, it’s so unlike the woman I have begun to get used to having in my life. No one gets to see her like this but me. It’s all mine.
“I want you to enjoy this.” I nuzzle into the side of her hair. “I want you to be able to take me comfortably.”
“F…f-fuck that,” she hisses.
I’m so distracted by the way she starts quivering that I don’t notice her arm reaching down to snatch my hand away. She gives me no time to retaliate, slipping out of my grip entirely and moving over to the bed.
“Fuck me. Now.” She looks angry. Fiery. Desperate. Her lips are swollen with the feverish kisses she just adorned my body with.
How can I deny her a goddamn thing?
I strip out of my pants immediately, my cock already thick and hard in my hand. I allow myself a stroke as I look down at her. Then another, as I reach the side table for the lube.
“I said, now,” she half-yells as I take my time coating myself thoroughly.
When I return to her, I place my spare hand over her mouth. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?”
She glares at me over my hand, green eyes half-clouded with lust as I align myself at her entrance.
“No complaints about entering a den of vipers, but as soon as you need something from me, well…” I push into her, barely past the tip.
My heart shudders at the sight of her eyes rolling back, her moan smothered by my fingers.
“It’s maddening.” It takes considerable effort to get the words out. “No regard for your own safety. Even now, you want it rough, don’t you?”
Her back arches as I push all the way to the hilt.
“Listen to me closely.” I withdraw, only to slam back into her again. This time, the sound she makes escapes my fingers. “I’m the only one who gets to be rough with you.”
I slam into her again, and my vision begins to blur. “You don’t take risks with anyone else.”
Her legs tremble with the effort to meet my next thrust, driving me even deeper. “And you’re going to start wearing a fucking heart rate monitor.”
Teeth bite into my hand as I lose all semblance of control. Her fingers scrape down my back, making her own marks on my skin. Dear God, do I love it. I love that she’s claiming me as I’ve claimed her.
I love the way her tightness around my cock gives me the most excruciating pleasure I’ve ever known.
I love that she’s here and safe and writhing beneath me. The only bruises and markings on her body are the ones that I’ve put there.
I feel it when her body clenches, when the spasms of her orgasm hit, and the most beautiful sound erupts from her mouth. I could listen to it forever, I could so easily stay with her like this, fall into…
My orgasm hits with brutal force and unnerving clarity. As I gaze upon the stars in my own eyes, the ones that cast her in an ethereal sort of softness, the pressure in my chest becomes too much.
This is too much. All of it, these feelings—the way she feels—is all too much.
Fuck.
I wrench my mouth from her skin, from where I could taste her sweat and desire, and push myself away.
It’s done. I’ve done what was needed. I can’t keep feeling this way.
Because it feels far too much like vulnerability. It feels too much like a weakness to be exploited by my enemies. It feels too much like clouded judgment.
I would have jeopardized the mission tonight for her in a heartbeat.
She moans out her protest as I yank myself out of her, but I keep putting the inches between us. Clawing away from that soft, raging thing that threatens to consume me whole.
It feels like an obsession.
Unnatural, unhealthy, unwarranted obsession. I want to lock the doors and never let her leave this room again.
My breath comes out in short pants as I try to gather my willpower. Every breath of distance between us gives me a new sense of clarity. I cling to it, pulling myself away and off the bed.
“Leon?” She looks up at me in half-delirious confusion, blankets pulled haphazardly over her perfect body.
It would be easy to close the distance again, soothe the worry of her brow, tease a hand through her hopelessly tangled curls. But it’s too dangerous a path. I can’t fuel this obsession anymore.
“You can sleep here tonight,” I manage to choke out in a level tone. “We can debrief in the morning.”
I turn to leave, grabbing my discarded clothes from the floor as I do.
“Are you…walking away from me right now?”
The betrayal in her voice is the hardest thing to stomach, and when I reach the bedroom door, the bile tastes rancid in my mouth. “There was nothing in our vows that specified cuddling.”
I close the door behind me before she has a chance to respond.