by Lora Leigh
“We have approximately forty-five minutes before I have to explain to your father what you were doing in the cockpit of the Navy’s newest baby instead of the transport he ordered,” he growled. “I want payment before I take the asschewing that’s coming.”
As he spoke, he moved close to her, crowding her, forcing her to lie back on the leather seat as he came over her like a hungry predator determined to devour a meal.
And he was in a devouring mood. A hungry mood. His lips didn’t catch her lips first as she expected though. Instead, his teeth raked over her neck as he parted her thighs and pressed the thick bulge of his cock between them.
Her hips jerked as pleasure swamped her. Determined to keep her unruly hunger under control—after all, her father was waiting for her at the town house—her fingers dug into his hard biceps and she turned her head to the side.
But the pleasure only grew. His lips, teeth, and tongue built a fire that began to whip through her bloodstream. Rough velvet and heated sharp tingles resulted from the stinging kisses, until she was desperate to feel it at her lips. To consume him. To taste him.
“Oh God, Kell, I can’t stand that,” she whimpered as he locked his fingers in her hair and held her in place, his lips trailing from her neck to her collarbone as the fingers of his other hand tugged at the loose neckline of her summer top.
The light weave of the stretchy threads gave easily, revealing one swollen mound, and the lace of her sexy half bra.
“God, I love your breasts,” he rasped as his lips followed his fingers.
Emily would have shrieked with the incredible pleasure of his tongue swiping over her nipple if she’d had the breath. Instead, she gasped, going completely still beneath him to make sense of the incredible sensations whipping through her.
His tongue ringed her nipple slowly before licking over it. That made her hot. Incredibly hot. Then, his lips surrounded the peak, drew it into his mouth, and began to suck.
Her hips jerked from the powerful punch of pleasure that sang from her nipple to her womb. Her pussy drove into the hard ridge of his cock, then she paused to writhe. Not that she could help writhing. The pressure on her clit was incredible, almost enough. If she could just move into the right position, if she could just find the right rhythm—
“Here you go, sweetheart.” His hand clamped on her hip, and as his lips returned to her nipple, his hips began to move.
It was incredible. It was a shock of driving heat each time he thrust against her, but it was never enough. Her clit became a hard, swollen knot of sensation. Her nipples began to burn and she couldn’t touch him enough.
Tugging at the shirt he wore, she struggled to reach bare skin, then gave up and jerked at the neckline instead, dragging it aside so her lips could move to his neck. Once there, she proved what an apt pupil she could be.
She ate at his flesh, nibbled, and drew her tongue over the tough flesh throbbing with life before she let her teeth rake over the pounding vein. The caresses were instinctive. Because the firm, heated draw of his mouth on her nipple was too good, too good to think. She could only feel. And burn.
“Kell. It’s so good,” she moaned against his neck as he drew the material of her blouse back into place before revealing her other breast.
“Damned good,” he muttered against the flushed mound. “So good I should be shot for starting this here.”
Her head tipped back on a cry as his teeth raked over her nipple and his hands drew her shirt up, pushing the material past both breasts as he stared down at her with wicked, knowing eyes.
“Tell me what you want,” he groaned.
Her lips parted on a gasp. “What?”
“Where do you want my mouth? Tell me, Emily.”
“Tell you? I want your mouth everywhere, Kell,” she cried out fiercely. “I don’t care where you put it. Just put it someplace.”
She couldn’t get enough of his wild kisses, his caresses, or his cock rubbing between her thighs, his goal hampered by the jeans they both wore.
“Tell me where, Emily,” he commanded then, his voice darker with passion now. “Tell me what you want.”
What she wanted. Her tongue touched her lips as she tried to drag in enough air. She couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen to her brain. Just enough to clear the fog of hunger.
“I want you to take me,” she whispered.
His eyes flared as a grimace twisted his features.
“Not in a fucking limo,” he groaned. “Hell, I need more time than I have for that.”
His head dropped between her breasts, his lips moving between them, his tongue caressing her with little laps that had her holding his head to her, needing more.
“Kell?” She felt the loosening of her jeans, his fingers parting the material.
“I have to feel you.” His fingers slid inside. “Just for a minute.”
Callused flesh rasped over her, slid beneath the band of her panties, and before she could prepare herself, touched the naked folds of her pussy.
“God, I love your pretty naked pussy.” He nipped delicately at the side of her breast as she arched and cried out his name again.
His fingers slid through the heavily saturated flesh, sliding erotically around her clit as she arched and cried out breathlessly.
The shock of pleasure stole what breath remained in her lungs. Then his fingers slid lower, found the entrance to the desperately aching flesh below as his thumb found her clit again, and rocketing sensations began to explode along her nerve endings.
She could only hang on for the ride. His lips moved past her breasts, licking and kissing her stomach, her abdomen, then moving to the parted material of her jeans as his hand drove her insane.
She wanted to touch him, but she couldn’t pull her senses together enough to figure out how. She needed to scream, but she couldn’t drag enough air into her lungs.
All she could do was writhe beneath the fingers gently probing, pressing against the entrance and sending a shock of heat and pleasure exploding through her system.
When they slid inside, stretching her, filling the entrance, her womb spasmed with an impending orgasm.
“Kell.” She twisted beneath him desperately. “Oh God. More.”
“More,” he muttered against the flesh above her mound. “God yes, more. The scent of your pussy is making me crazy, Emily.”
He was jerking, tugging at her jeans, his thumb sliding from her clit only to be replaced by his suckling mouth and licking tongue.
Emily’s fingers locked in Kell’s hair. Her hips arched and as she felt his tongue moving slowly, too damned slowly, around her clit, she began to beg.
“I need to come, Kell.”
He lapped at her clit with a slow, long lick.
“Oh God. More. Harder.”
His lips puckered and he kissed it gently, almost pushing her over the edge.
“Please don’t tease—please.”
He licked around it, causing it to tighten further, to throb in need. The blood was racing through her veins now, perspiration slickening her body as she writhed beneath him. She was dying for more, reaching, pressing against his mouth as her hands tightened in his hair to drag him closer.
She wanted to be rid of the jeans. She wanted to be naked in his arms and covered by his weight. Instead, the denim material around her thighs held her in place as his mouth tormented her. Tortured her. As his fingers stroked, stretched the opening, and had her lifting, trying to force them deeper.
She needed them deeper. Agonizing hunger resonated from the depths of her pussy, tightening the muscles, spasming through them with a force that had her flying higher, faster, than she had in the Black Hawk.
“Kell, please,” she tried to scream his name. “Please. I’m dying—I need—more.”
The wail that left her throat was one of exquisite agony. Pleasure too sharp, too fierce to be endured. Yet she endured it. Ecstasy ruptured through her, piercing her bloodstream and burning through her body with a force that
tightened her body and left her shuddering in the aftermath.
Twelve
ONCE HE GOT HIS DICK inside her, he was going to kill them both before he managed to satisfy the hunger clawing at his balls.
Kell fixed her clothes quickly, drew her into a sitting position, and breathed out a shaky breath as he moved into the opposite seat and stared back at her.
At least the panel between the driver and the seats was soundproof. Damn, that cry that had come from her had nearly had him coming in his jeans. Long, drawn out, aching with pleasure and need combined.
Looking through the windows, he quickly estimated how much time was left before they arrived at the house then ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to restore some kind of order to it as Emily pulled a comb from her purse and quickly straightened hers.
“Want me to do yours?” She flashed him a saucy grin as she held the comb out.
“Go for it.” He loved daring her.
The smile that curled her lips had his thighs tightening and his fingers digging into the seat beneath him as she moved across the short distance and straddled his legs before sitting on his lap.
“Brave girl,” he growled playfully. “It’s all I can do not to tear those jeans off you and show you just how tenuous my control is right now.”
“Hmm.” She drew the teeth of the comb through his hair, using her free hand to smooth over the strands as she worked. “Just imagine the surprise Daddy’s butler would get when he opened the door for us.”
Kell grimaced. He knew that butler. Seaman Rogers had been with the senator’s SEAL team at the time the senator had been wounded. Several years later Rogers had been taken captive. Before his team could rescue him both legs had been broken, several ribs cracked, and the fingers of one hand nearly pulverized.
Once he healed and took a discharge, Stanton had hired him. The other man had been with the senator ever since. Nearly twelve years now. His wife kept the town house ready for occupancy and both of them adored the senator and his daughter.
“There, you’re all nice and tidy. If it weren’t for that hickey on your neck, Daddy would never know I’d been molesting you in the limo.”
His gaze caught hers. There was a hint of fear in her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” she whispered as she moved back to her own seat and rubbed her hands nervously on her jeanclad thighs. “Maybe he won’t notice.”
“Probably not.” Bullshit. Kell knew that was the first thing her father would notice. “But that’s not as much a problem as the one on your neck. And I did mean to put it there.”
Her hand flew to her neck then she dug into her purse, pulled her mirror free, and stared at it in shock.
It wasn’t blatantly obvious. It was small, the slightest marring of her creamy flesh from the bite of his teeth. It would be gone within hours. But they didn’t have hours.
“We’re dead.” She swallowed tightly. “This is bad, Kell. Very bad.”
“Yep, we’ve broken several laws,” he agreed mockingly. “Look at it this way, at least he can’t tell I had my mouth buried in your pussy.”
“Stop trying to shock me.” She snapped the mirror closed and shoved it back into her purse. “What is your deal? Why are you so insistent that he know we have anything between us? This is insane.”
“Why would I want to hide it?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at her thoughtfully.
Her head dropped back against the seat as she stared at the upholstered ceiling.
“We are so screwed. He’s going to demand you marry me, I’ll refuse, and he’ll have you demoted to ship’s barnacle remover or something.”
His lips twitched. “I hardly think so. He’s a senator, not an admiral.”
Her head lifted slowly. “You forget, my godfather is an admiral, Kell,” she whispered in horror. “And he’ll be at the town house.”
“Admiral Holloran.” He nodded. “Don’t worry, he likes my brash sense of humor.”
“YOU SHOULD REALLY BE MORE worried about this.”
“I’m not worried, Emily.” Because he had every intention of marrying her, just as soon as she came around to the fact that it was going to happen.
A man didn’t force a woman like Emily, he gently led her. Like the vixen she was, she’d dig her heels in and stubbornly refuse to breathe if someone were to try to make her do it.
There was no doubt that he and the senator, and most likely the admiral, would be having a hell of a conversation later though.
“I’m not marrying you!” she snapped. “I don’t know you. I don’t even know if I like you.”
“But you’ll go to bed with me?” He arched his brow mockingly.
The question had her pausing. “Well, I like you fine when you’re kissing me rather than playing games with me. Don’t think you have me fooled, Kell. Whatever your agenda is, I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
He had no doubt she wouldn’t.
“No agenda, sweet pea.” He smiled back at her, not bothering to hide the fact that he was amused by the predicament she found herself in.
Hell, she should have gotten her father in hand years ago. She had the ability to do it. And if she didn’t learn how now, then Kell was going to have to. Then he would have to soothe her ruffled feelings as well as the senator’s. And it would be a hell of a lot harder for him to soothe a senator’s ruffled feelings than it would be for her.
It was barely eleven in the morning when the limo pulled up in front of the town house. Ian and the driver were out first, flanking the door as Kell opened it and stepped out.
“We have a clear,” Ian murmured, touching the earwig communicator he wore.
Kell nodded then gripped Emily’s arm and helped her from the limo before moving behind her and following her up the steps to the senator’s brownstone town house.
The door opened immediately and Rogers’s tall, imposing form slid into view. He shielded Emily’s side as she whisked into the house, entering the large foyer and staring around with a sense of regret.
She had left here five years ago and moved to Atlanta to get away from the stifling atmosphere of her father’s over-protectiveness. Now, she was returning, and the smothering feeling that had driven her out was coming back with a vengeance.
“Emily.” Her father stepped from the study at the far end of the foyer, a smile creasing his face as he moved toward her. Behind him, Commodore Samuel Tiberian Holloran stepped into view, bringing a smile to Emily’s face.
Uncle Sam. He wasn’t really her uncle, but he was her godfather, her father’s best friend, and once an ally she could depend upon.
Behind her, Kell and Ian came to attention, only relaxing marginally when her father and the admiral returned their salutes.
“Hello, Daddy. I thought you weren’t staying here?” She stared around the foyer.
When her father wasn’t in semipermanent residence, then Fay didn’t come in from the little house they lived in behind the town house. But there she was, her white apron brilliant against the dark blue slacks and matching blouse she wore.
“I’m not, Emily,” he assured her. “But I thought you might need Fay’s assistance while you’re here.”
He gripped her shoulders firmly, planted a kiss on her brow then drew back with a frown, his gaze going to her neck before looking behind her.
“Say a word and I’ll walk out,” she informed him quietly, barely keeping her voice from shaking. “You start a fight in front of Uncle Sam and I’ll never forgive you.”
He gazed back down at her, his eyes narrowing as his lips tightened in anger.
She could feel the mark burning on her neck. It was a declaration. Even as she had checked it in the limo she had known what Kell intended it to be. A declaration of ownership. A male brand of possession.
“I mean it, Daddy.” She stared right back, feeling the dread that began to rise inside her. “I won’t have it.”
“Emily Paige, girl, you’re as pretty as a
picture.” The admiral stopped beside her father, giving them both a stern look before he pulled Emily into his arms for a quick hug.
“And you’re as handsome as always, Uncle Sam.” She tried to smile back.
He cut quite a dashing figure for a man who had just celebrated his fifty-fifth birthday. He was trim, his hazel eyes as sharp as ever, though his dark brown hair was now completely gray.
“Of course I’m as handsome as always, unlike your old man here.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at her father. “I’m only getting better with age.”
Emily’s lips twitched before flattening at the look in her father’s eyes.
“Has my dress arrived?” She turned to Fay to ask the question.
“Everything arrived yesterday, Miss Emily,” she answered, her gaze taking in the look on her father’s face as well. “I put everything in your bedroom, and Lieutenant Krieger’s dress blues arrived as well. They’re in the room beside yours.”
Emily nodded sharply. “I need to call Wilma Dunmore and make certain everything is running smoothly. I’ll have to thank her for taking care of this for me.”
“Go ahead and do that, baby,” her father said, his voice tight. “I’ll talk to Krieger about the information we’ve gotten so far.”
She just bet that was what he wanted to talk to him about.
“Don’t cause me to leave, Daddy.” She didn’t bother to disguise the warning in her voice. “I don’t want to let you down this weekend, but I would.”
“Emily.” Kell stepped behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders in a move that she considered highly unwise. And to make matters worse he kissed the top of her head gently.
The commodore’s brows lifted to his hairline as he glanced back at her father.
“For a smart man, you’re starting to make me believe you have very little sense of self-preservation, Kell,” she snapped, stepping away from him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to take care of. If you want to be stupid, you can do it all on your own.”
Pulling away from him, she took her overnight bag and purse from the chauffeur before heading to the stairs.
