by Lora Leigh
He saw it in her now, felt it in her. She was as wild as the wind, the sexy, sensual creature he had known existed inside her.
Holding her firmly, he restrained that fire, controlled it, and watched it burn brighter inside her as her lips opened over the thick crest and took it into the burning heat of her mouth.
Clenching his teeth, Travis only barely held back the groan of complete ecstasy as the inexperienced wonder on her face held him entranced.
Innocent though she might be, she knew how to drive him crazy. Her tongue stroked around the too-sensitive head as she sucked at his cock hungrily. The heated licks were a hot counterpoint to the firm sucks, to the warm moisture he was delving into as she took as much of his dick as she could into the wet, velvet interior of her mouth.
“Hell yes.” He couldn’t hold back the growl, the hoarse rasp of complete pleasure that tore from his chest. “Damn you, Lilly. Your mouth is like pure pleasure.”
It was more than pleasure. There were no words that he could find for the exquisite sensations racing from his cock, to his balls, and up his spine. It was like being immersed in pure sensation, pure ecstasy. Undiluted with worry, danger, or upcoming missions. It was a pleasure that built upon itself, that intensified and filled him with a driving need for nothing but the pure heat of her body.
His thighs strained with the effort it took to hold back. He could feel perspiration building at his temple, on his shoulders. Heat surrounded him, burned through him. The effort it took to hold back, to allow her the time she needed . . .
“Fuck yes!” Her head lifted from his cock, slid down the shaft to the tight sac below where her tongue licked and stroked, played and wreaked havoc on his control.
Damn, she was making him crazy. Rapid-fire pulses of sensation raced through his dick, tightened through his balls, and tore across his nerve endings as he fought to enjoy it for a few more seconds.
Just another lick. Just another kiss of those satiny lips. Both his hands went to her head, his fingers threading through her hair. Short, agonizing strokes of his cock past her lips tested that final limit of his control as he fucked her sweet mouth, slow and easy.
He was on the edge. Holding back his release was nearly impossible but he had no intention of allowing it to end here. When he came, he had every intention of coming deep and hard inside her tight little pussy rather than the suckling heat of her seductive little mouth.
Ignoring her startled mewl of protest, he forced himself to remove his cock from the ecstatic grip she had on it.
“Not yet, minx,” he growled, as she gripped his thighs and attempted to pull the hardened flesh back to her honeyed lips.
Gripping her shoulders, he tried to ease her back onto the bed. That wicked feminine smile that drove him insane crossed her lips. She resisted him, refusing to ease back.
Travis’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m going to taste that sweet pussy before this goes any further,” he informed her, his tone rougher than he intended. “I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, suck that hard little clit, and feel you unraveling to my mouth before I fuck you.”
Her gaze glittered, the green flaming as her face flushed with heightened arousal.
“Sounds like a rather tall order.” Still on her knees, still so tempting, so seductive and demanding, she blew his fucking mind.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Before she could evade him he had her on her back, struggling halfheartedly against him, a light, arousal-filled laugh leaving her lips as he forced his way between her thighs.
Before she could push him back, before she could distract him, he wedged her thighs farther apart, then laid his lips and tongue to the sweetest honeyed flesh he had ever known.
Her juices were slick and hot, like the finest syrup, glazing his lips and tongue as he bestowed kiss after kiss to the intimate folds. He sucked her clit into his mouth, tasted, laved it with his tongue, and lost himself in the intoxicating taste and heat of her.
Lilly stared at the ceiling, dazed, submerged in sensations that washed over her with the force of a tidal wave. Spreading her thighs wider, she tangled her fingers in his hair and lifted her head, watched and became mesmerized by the complete sexual absorption on his face.
This was paradise. It was pure ecstasy. His tongue licked around her clit, flicked the tender bud, causing her to jerk with an excess of sensations.
“Travis.” The little cry came unbidden from her lips as pleasure raced through her system. It wasn’t confined to the area he was kissing so intimately. The pleasure tore across her nerve endings and invaded every cell of her body.
Perspiration sheened his flesh as well as hers, as her juices glazed his lips.
He parted the swollen folds with his fingers, and his tongue licked, laved, loved. It circled the clenched opening to her pussy, flicked inside only to retreat as her hips jerked closer in a silent plea for more. Always more. She could never get enough.
She arched beneath him, her hips lifting to his lips, watching as slowly, so slowly, he licked to the aching center of her pussy, then, slow and easy, pushed his tongue inside her.
A long desperate wail left her lips. Her fingers tightened in his hair, trying to force him closer as she felt his tongue inside her taking quick shallow licks that stroked and caressed nerve endings she hadn’t been aware she possessed.
It was incredible.
Heat surged inside her, built around her. White-hot, blinding pleasure exploded inside her with a force that had her arching tight and hard to his lips, her pussy flexing around his tongue as she cried out his name, held on to him, relinquished control and gave herself to him.
She was still flying. Ecstasy still held her in its grip when she felt him move between her thighs and thrust inside her with a fierce, hard stroke.
The forceful, immediate stretching of tender muscles, the pleasure-pain that tore through her, brought her higher. Shock widened her eyes, rapture tightened her body, as he pulled back and began working inside the tight grip of her climaxing pussy with powerful strokes that pushed her deeper into ecstasy, flung her into a white-hot center of pure pulsing sensation that refused to release her.
Travis was dying. Sweat dripped down his face as he buried his cock inside her to the hilt on the fourth stroke. The orgasm that held her in its grip tightened her pussy to a near-painful snugness that had his release threatening to explode out of his control.
Pushing inside her again, he stilled, grimaced, and fought not to come. Hell, he was going to come. His balls were so tight they were painful, the sensitivity in his cock was near agonizing. He wanted to fuck her forever but he knew if he didn’t come soon he was going to die of a stroke.
Her pussy rippled around him, the ultratight muscles clenched and gripping, milking him with ever-increasing little tremors that stole his mind.
He was lost in a world of such sensual pleasure that nothing mattered but the moment and the woman. He was bound to her, more than just physically, more than just his cock buried inside the tightest, sweetest pussy he had ever known. He was bound to her soul, and he knew there was no way to escape.
Flexing his hips, he moved, dragging the fiercely throbbing length of his shaft back before thrusting inside her. Slowly. He couldn’t go faster, not yet. One wrong move and he was gone. He’d never manage to feel her pulsing around his cock in release again, he’d spill into her without thought.
Without thought.
He shook his head. He fought to pull free of her.
Condom.
There was a condom in his bag. Across the room. Clear across the room.
“Lilly.” He groaned her name as her legs wrapped around his hips and held on tight. “Baby. No condom. I forgot. Fuck.”
She shook her head as he tried to pull back again.
Her eyes opened, deep green eyes filled w
ith mystery, with promise.
“Fuck me, Travis. Harder. Oh God, I’m so close . . .” Her hips churned beneath him. “I’m so close.”
And she was. He could feel her tightening beneath him again, feel her pussy heating further, her juices slick and hot as her entire body seemed to flush beneath him.
“Lilly.” The protest was halfhearted at best.
Never had he had taken a woman without protection. Never had he filled a woman with his come, even the wife that had betrayed him. He had never given that much of himself.
Lilly already held all of him.
Throwing his head back, he gritted his teeth and let go the last measure of control he had held on to. Fucking her with desperate driving strokes, he felt his release building, heating, threatening . . .
Lilly exploded beneath him. A long, low wail of completion filled the cabin as he powered into her again, again, driving her through another orgasm as fierce, as deep, as the first.
Her pussy flexed around his shaft, stroked it tighter, gripped him, milked him, sucked his release from him with such a violence that he knew he had lost himself inside her forever.
Burying in deep, hard, he gave in to the fierce, white-hot spurts of semen as it began to jet inside her. The more he gave her the more her pussy tried to milk from him. It rippled and gripped, stroked and sucked at his cock until he was shaking, shuddering, certain he would never survive.
When it finally began to ease, as the strength seeped from their bodies and left him collapsed over her, fighting just to breathe, Travis began to wonder at exactly what point he had lost his heart to her.
With his head buried in the pillow next to hers, one hand gripping her hip, the other buried in her hair, he tried to tell himself he could control this, even though he knew he couldn’t.
He felt her lips at his shoulder, her breaths shuddering through her body, then he finally felt her relax. He knew the moment exhaustion took her, eased her into sleep, and left her completely vulnerable in his arms.
He had taught her years ago to never leave herself vulnerable to a lover. A lover could be a killer. He could be the enemy in disguise. He hadn’t taught her that he loved her. He hadn’t taught her that he could be her greatest enemy.
But there she was, slipping into sleep, as he eased away from her and forced himself from the bed. A mumbled protest left her lips as he padded to the sink, dampened a small towel in warm water, then returned and cleaned her gently.
Spreading her thighs, he ran the warm cloth along the swollen, reddened folds of her sex, cleaning her juices and his come from the tender flesh, amazed at the complete trust she gave him as she continued to sleep.
How long had it been since she had felt safe enough to sleep? he wondered. How long since Lilly had felt safe, period?
After cleaning himself he moved to the bag he had dropped at the door and pulled his weapon and a spare clip from inside. He moved back to the bed, eased her beneath the quilt, then slid in beside her and pulled her into his arms after tucking the gun beneath his pillow. She cuddled against him with an innocent trust he was certain he should lecture her about later. After all, he was supposed to be no more than the wolf in sheep’s clothing. The enemy posing as the lover.
Smoothing her hair back, he let his eyes close and let himself sleep. It wasn’t a deep sleep, not here, not yet. He didn’t know if there was security here, he didn’t know the area, but he knew Lilly and he knew she protected herself. For the most part.
Once they were dressed and ready to face the day, then they would have to discuss this night, and they would have to face the implications of what the night had wrought.
Until then, she was sleeping in his arms, against his heart. And for now at least, she was his totally. The Ops didn’t matter, the mission be damned. For now, he was just a man holding his woman, and he wanted every moment that he could steal.
Chapter 8
lilly walked through the wide double doors of her family’s home the next afternoon to face the combined disapproval of her mother and her uncle.
“Where have you been?” Her mother was smoking again. This time, she wasn’t bothering to hide it. The cigarette was held between her fingers as she glared at Lilly furiously. “Do you know I was ready to call the FBI? For God’s sake, Lilly.”
Guilt seared her. She should have called, perhaps left a note. Travis had lectured her about that.
“I’m sorry, I needed time to think.” She lifted her shoulders in an uneasy shrug as her gaze shifted to Desmond.
He was furious. His pale blue eyes glared back at her as he crossed his arms over his chest. The muscles beneath his fine cotton shirt bulged, attesting to the anger that flushed his ruddy complexion further.
“Where is your mind?” Angelica turned and stalked back into the family room, her head held high, the sharp odor of tobacco following behind her.
“I would suggest you step into the family room,” Desmond bit out between clenched teeth. “Running and hiding will do you little good this time.”
Lilly arched her brows. “I’m twenty-six, Uncle, not six,” she informed him.
“Then perhaps you should start acting your age,” he retorted as he, too, turned on his heel and followed her mother.
She really wanted to do just as he had told her not to. Run and hide. Facing her mother’s wrath had never been a preferred sport as far as she was concerned.
Blowing out a hard breath, she pushed her fingers through her hair before following the two. Entering the room, she moved toward the bar first, ignoring her mother’s muttered curse as she reach for the whisky.
“That is a gentleman’s drink,” Angelica reminded her. “It is not a drink for polite young ladies.”
“I’m no longer a polite young lady,” Lilly told her.
Pouring a shot, Lilly tossed it back quickly, her eyes fluttering at the pleasant burn that hit her stomach. Come to think of it, she distinctly remembered the fact that a glass of wine normally accompanied any conversation with her mother. Angelica was a dominant personality, and not always easy to get along with, even for her children.
“The least you could do is show me the respect of telling me when you will be out playing your foolish games all night,” Angelica snapped behind her. “It would keep me from informing the FBI that my daughter has been kidnapped again.”
“Kidnapped?” Lilly turned back to her mother. “I wasn’t kidnapped the first time, Mother.”
Angelica tamped out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray before staring at her daughter disdainfully. “And how do you know? Have you remembered the past six years?”
“Why, no, I haven’t,” she stated clearly. “But I think I would know if I had been kidnapped, Mother.”
“I rather doubt you would,” Angelica told her, her voice cold and brittle.
Lilly lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “According to the investigator’s report, I had quite a bit of freedom in the past six years. I can’t see kidnappers allowing their kidnappee to carry a gun. And I don’t remember a mention in that report of a ransom being demanded.”
Lilly propped her elbows on the bar behind her and stared back at the couple.
“I’ll call Dr. Ridgemore first thing in the morning,” Angelica said between clenched teeth. “Clearly you need help that I cannot provide.”
Ridgemore? Lilly stared back at her mother in shock. She was well aware of who and what Dr. Ridgemore was and what he did. He was co-owner and head psychiatrist at Le Fleur in France, a psychiatric hospital where her mother’s cronies often sent their children for evaluations when they were considered unruly.
“Mother, that isn’t a mistake you want to make,” Lilly stated gently. “After all this time apart, do you truly want to make sure that I never return to this family again?”
Le Fleur was the bane of every chil
d’s existence among the social set Lilly had once been a part of. If they disobeyed their parents, they were sent to the hospital. If they became dependent on drugs, tried to marry someone their parents disapproved of, made any decision on their own, then they were shipped off.
It wasn’t every family that practiced such heinous decisions, but there were more than a few. They couldn’t handle their children, so obviously something was wrong with the child, not the parent. In Angelica’s case, the threat and the concern were very real. When one of her family members didn’t conform something had to be wrong with them.
“As you seem determined to get yourself killed, it seems the preferred alternative,” Angelica responded furiously. “You read the report Desmond received on you, Lilly. Did you even consider the repercussions such a life could have on your family should it become known? Do you even care?”
Her mother’s voice rose on each sentence, fury filling each word as her fists clenched at her side, her face flushing a delicate, rosy hue.
Once, Lilly would have been desperate to appease her mother. There had been a time when she had known nothing but fear of her mother’s rages. Not because she would hit her, or even punish her, but because with it came the censorious silences, the lack of an allowance, the car keys taken, friends turned away at the door.
How childish each of those punishments seemed now. If only she had no more to worry about than lack of an allowance.
“I’m sorry, Mother, I can understand how that investigator’s report could affect the family,” she stated, resignation filling her.
Her mother would never let her live that report down. It would never matter what the truth eventually turned out to be; the fact that there was the slightest hint of impropriety attached to her name was enough to ensure Angelica never forgot that her daughter had been accused of such a thing. Or that that accusation could become public knowledge.
“I very much doubt you gave your family a moment’s thought during the years you were away,” Angelica charged. “Had you cared even a bit, then you would have at least let us know you were still alive.”
