Sweet Seduction Secrets (Sweet Seduction, Book 8): A Love At First Sight Romantic Suspense Series

by Claire, Nicola

  I’m not sure if it was the thought of someone walking in on us or the admission that Charlie meant more than just another quick fling, but I was on my knees in the next instant, her leathers undone and being tugged roughly down her legs, until her sweet little pussy, with blonde curls, and a blast as hot as a fucking furnace coming from them, in my face.

  My nose buried between her thighs, her legs still held together by her pants around her ankles, but her hips canted at an angle that invited my tongue.

  “My turn,” I growled, and she sagged slightly, making more room for me to reach my goal.

  And then… heaven. Her scent. Her taste. The way she moved and moaned and demanded in non-verbal pleas for more. She was wet. So fucking wet. And I was about to come all over the floor just from licking her, tasting her, moving her.

  I slipped a finger inside. We both moaned.

  I sucked on her clit. We both shuddered.

  I ground my jaw against her roughly. We both sucked in a shocked breath of air.

  And then her hands were in my hair, fingers tangled in the strands, and she ground back. Hard.

  “Take it!” she demanded, breathlessly. “Take me.” The last said almost shyly.

  She was a dichotomy, this woman. A puzzle that just kept getting more interesting. I knew more about her now, and still I knew I’d never discover enough.

  I added another finger, pumped into her with a hunger that was only matched by the throbbing of my cock. Then maniacally licked and sucked and devoured her clit, offering a small teeth scrape at just the right moment.

  She shuddered above me, her walls spasming around my fingers, her pussy pulsing beneath my lips. Moisture ran down my chin as she panted and moaned, riding the wave unabashedly.

  I pulled back and looked up at her; this woman that stole all thought. Firecracker was right; blindingly bright and the most colourful fucking thing I had ever seen. Charlie coming was a vision. Controlled enough not to scream. Wild enough to combust.

  I watched on as she rode my fingers, my thumb pressed firmly into her clit, giving her a little more. I watched on and saw beneath the shell, saw a part of her that I’d bet not too many did. If ever. She hadn’t fully relinquished control, but when her eyes opened, that stunning grey staring down at me like a fog cloaked winter’s day, I knew she’d given me more than she’d intended. Lost herself in the moment, floated away on the wave.

  And then with a wicked smile she pulled back, making my fingers fall free. Licking her lips, she kicked her leathers off completely, spun around, palms slapping flat against the wall. Fan-fucking-tastic bare globes of her arse presented in invitation as she arched her back.

  Holy fucking shit.

  The room was forgotten. The covered dome camera. The mic, on or off. The unlocked door.

  I stood up, somehow managed to fumble with a condom, and then grabbed either side of her hips, and thrust forward.

  It was only as I sank into Nirvana that I realised the grin on her face hadn’t been wicked at all.

  But calculating. Charlie, my little lying firecracker, wanted to take back some of the control.

  And as I lost myself to the rhythm, to her panted breaths and pleas for harder and more, I allowed her the victory.

  Because, sometimes, a guy just has to take the fall.

  Chapter 19

  I Would Have Caught You

  Charlie

  Something welled inside me, something big and dark and ferocious with a mind of its own. I’d never experienced anything like it before, never felt a sensation as potentially soul destroying and lethal. I’ve faced off against many things in the past ten years, but none of those moments compared to this.

  It was just fucking. Or was it?

  Something I’d done a hundred times before to get the job over with, to reach a goal; either a professional one or a personal one, it didn’t really matter. But this didn’t feel the same. The need, the hunger. The frantic, no-holds barred, got to have now, can’t breathe without my next hit, desire. Adam slayed me. He stealthily set out to seduce my senses and in the process he annihilated my former self.

  This woman - panting, sweating, grasping, moaning, begging for more - was not me. How could she be? This woman felt. This woman lived. This woman was on fire. I was none of those things. And although a part of me recognised the danger I was courting, another part, an until now silent part, wanted more.

  “God, you feel so fucking good,” Adam groaned on a slow thrust forward. He’d initially taken me hard and fast, but like any worthy adversary, once he’d spotted my weakness, he’d tailored his assault.

  “Faster,” my lips demanded breathlessly.

  “Not yet,” Adam replied, reaching around and cupping a breast under my bra. A nipple twisted between his thumb and forefinger making me buck back against his achingly hard cock. Then his spare hand found my clit and mirrored the sensation there as well.

  “Adam,” I growled, or at least, it was meant to be a growl. Instead it had come out more like a plea.

  “So good,” he semi-repeated, as though incapable of intelligent conversation right then. Not that I was doing any better.

  “Fuck me,” was all I managed when I was sure there was more, like, “Fuck me faster or don’t fuck me at all!”

  “Oh, I’m fucking you, firecracker, but on my own schedule, not yours.”

  Huh. I guess he was more capable of communication than I’d thought.

  And then, “I need to see your face,” was all the warning I got, before he pulled out, leaving me hollow, for more than one reason, and momentarily confused, as well. And then he spun me around and hauled me up his chest. My legs wrapped around his hips so damn naturally, as his hands slapped onto my rear adding lift, and then a sense of weightlessness followed as he lowered me, deep blue eyes holding me still while his cock pressed its way back in.

  Oh, fuck. This was worse. So much worse. This was too much. I watched as his nostrils flared and his lips parted just a fraction and hot air eased out on a sigh. His lids lowered, his hands shook, and a small grunt succeeded it all. Seated deep inside me, he twitched, but nothing more. The air hung heavy in the room. Time seemed to stop.

  “Faster,” I finally managed, desperately scrabbling for some semblance of control in front of this man.

  “Kiss me,” he shot back, a wicked glint in his eyes, well aware of how trapped I was, how completely naked I was to the touch of his gaze. How impossibly desperate I was for him to free me from the moment.

  His lips brushed against mine, softly, reverently, and it almost undid me. I writhed on his thick shaft, his hands clamping my hips still as he took what he wanted and denied me what I needed to breathe. To survive this.

  His eyes stayed open the entire time his tongue danced with mine. The entire time my heartbeat pounded inside my chest. The entire time my body trembled in his arms and my pussy clenched in wanton desire around him.

  “Let go,” he whispered, between caresses of his lips. “I’ve got you,” he added, which only made me fume.

  How dare he bare me so completely. How dare he see through my façade with such careless ease.

  And how dare he understand what it was that he saw.

  He rolled his hips, just once, just barely enough to assuage the hunger.

  “I’ve got you,” he repeated, and then again and again as he started to thrust.

  “I’ve got you,” said on a groan as I flexed my internal muscles, stroking him as he stroked into me.

  “I’ve got you,” branded on my brain as much as his touch seared my soul.

  “Charlie,” a kiss, a slow, measured thrust, “I’ve… got… you.”

  I came apart looking into his eyes, something I have never done before. Tied to someone in that moment of intimacy, a connection that seemed so very fragile but somehow survived the most violent emotions of all. I didn’t want to be looking at him as I climaxed. I didn’t want him to see inside me at that most vulnerable time. I didn’t want the connection, but
could not deny its existence.

  I never lie to myself, even if every other word out of my mouth is a falsehood.

  “Fuck,” Adam said on a breath of heated air. “So beautiful,” he added. “Now” he licked his lips, “we go faster.”

  No. He’d just stripped me. He’d just made me experience something I had never shared with another human being before. He’d just changed me. And now he was giving me what I had asked for?

  But I wasn’t sure I could take it. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough. Not when my heart ached and my body thrummed and my mind was whirring. Not when I felt so raw and unprotected, so naked and so laid bare.

  Not now.

  I opened my mouth, but his lips and tongue and teeth plundered. I moaned, writhed beneath him, almost as though I was trying to get away. But that wasn’t right either, because my body was betraying me; my movements enticing, inviting, not the actions of a woman trying to escape.

  And then his hands found mine, his fingers twining between my fingers in a way too familiar embrace.

  “Hold tight,” he said on panted breaths. I automatically squeezed his fingers in return, a reaction that left me bewildered. But in the blink of an eye he had my hands above my head, pressed back into the wall. The only way to stay on his hips was to tighten my legs, and they too acted of their own accord. I clung to him, tensing my thigh muscles, as he rocked into me again and again and again. My arms stretched over my head. My body claimed with each purposeful thrust forward of his cock. My breasts pressed up hard against his rippling chest. My chin and lips bruised and raw from the stubble along his jaw.

  Oh, dear God. I didn’t stand a chance.

  He was sweating, his perspiration mixing with mine. It smelled delicious. It tasted delicious when I licked up the side of his neck. I lost myself in the moment. In every thrust forward as his fingers tightened to almost painful on my hands. I gave myself over to the sensations; pleasure, just shy of pain, hard and fast, desperate and controlled. My arms shook, my body rocked back on each hard pound forward from his hips, my breaths left me in shocked and turned-on gasps.

  And my heart broke out of my chest.

  He could have pulled a knife on me and I wouldn’t have noticed until I bled.

  He could have asked me anything and I would have answered. Truthfully. Albeit breathlessly.

  He could have had anything in that moment, anything at all that he desired. But all Adam wanted was my capitulation; my utter surrender. For me to let go and let him catch my fall.

  A slither of sanity invaded my mind, a small window of opportunity to pull back from the abyss and maybe be able to walk away from this encounter still intact. A second or two where I could have reached for the me I always knew.

  I sucked in a breath of air, my vision sharpening, my movements ceasing, my decision made.

  I am not this woman. I could never be this woman who felt and lived and burned.

  And then Adam groaned, a panicked look crossed his face. His eyes snapped open; so lost and frantic and pleading.

  “Too soon,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “Ah, fuck it!” he swore as his body tightened and his cock swelled and his thrusts lost any semblance of their measured glide and became desperate.

  Oh, he looked so… glorious. Innocence wrapped up in a wicked package, sealed with a filthy bad-boy bow.

  “Charlie,” he shouted, as the first heated shots of his release hit my insides; the condom doing nothing to separate me from the moment.

  “Oh, fuck,” I managed, but I was sure he hadn’t heard me; his moan of ecstasy drowning out all other sounds.

  Even my moan of ecstasy, as I came in a rush of undeniable delight and a shockingly brilliant realisation. I had never orgasmed as powerfully and as thoroughly as that. So body tremblingly, limb shakingly, mind numbingly, soul destroyingly hard. In that moment, Adam Savill owned me. Totally. Completely. Utterly.

  I’d let go, but I had no idea if he’d even been aware that I had, lost in his own world altering release.

  So I had no idea if he’d caught me.

  I couldn’t think. I couldn’t decipher what it was I was feeling. Emotions swirled inside, some sated, some awed, some traumatised. I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t in control. My breathing, already too fast, escalated. My body, already beyond exertion, struggled to ready itself for war.

  “Fuck me,” Adam whispered, his forehead resting against my shoulder, his eyes still closed, his fingers still wrapped up in mine, his impressive, already re-hardening cock twitching inside.

  I swallowed. Blinked against the brightness of the lights in the room… and then forced myself to roll my shoulders and stretch my neck.

  Adam stilled. Slowly he pulled back and looked down at me; God alone knows what he saw. I hoped it was the spy. I feared it was someone I didn’t know at all.

  It took too long for him to say something and what he did eventually say said more about his perceptiveness than anything else.

  “You look well fucked,” he murmured, pulling back and helping me to my feet.

  “I feel well fucked,” I said, my voice steady, my pulse returning to normal, my smile a playful grin.

  I didn’t feel like playing, but my life had been one game after another, and I always win.

  He stared at me for a long, drawn out moment, and then reached down and pulled up his pants. His eyes stayed on my face as he buckled his belt and I redressed, neither of us sure what to say next.

  I might have looked like the Charlie I’d always portrayed, but somehow I was sure Adam could see inside now. As if that connection we’d shared, when we’d looked in each others eyes as we’d made love, allowed him that intrusion now. Gave him a weapon that no man had ever had.

  I glanced around the room, having to pull my gaze from his too knowing face. My jacket lay discarded over a chair, his was lying on the table. A black t-shirt hung off the ceiling, covering the dome camera in the corner, blue electrical tape haphazardly used to attach it.

  My eyes automatically and inexorably found their way back to his naked, chiselled chest. I took too long raising them to look in the amused deep blue of his.

  “That was not a one time deal,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

  “What makes you think I want a repeat performance?” I asked archly.

  He smiled, that wicked smile he has. The one that says he’s in charge. I hadn’t categorised it before now, but it made perfect sense. Adam was a watcher, a stalker, he observed and gathered facts. He was often overlooked, because you never saw him coming. No matter the environment.

  He was a secret weapon Nick Anscombe deployed when the target was least expecting it.

  And I hadn’t expected him at all.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised that Nick’s prepared to use his assets in such an underhand way,” I quipped, walking over to my leather jacket and beginning to put it on. I needed more coverage, a t-shirt just wasn’t enough.

  “What do you mean?” Adam asked carefully.

  “He didn’t put you up to this?” I replied, without turning around. It took everything in me to keep my back to the man. He’d burrowed beneath my defences so easily, I needed to think laterally to exorcise him. “Ask you to play along with me, do whatever is necessary to help me lower my guard?”

  I turned around and caught the shocked expression on his face. The one mixed in with a small measure of guilt.

  I huffed out a laugh. “Don’t take it too hard, Stalker,” I drawled. “I’m trained to recognise such traps.”

  “And trained to set them too, Charlie?” Adam asked in a faux pleasant voice.

  “Touché.” He flinched at my tone of voice. My hands wanted to fist.

  Another deep breath, roll of my head, stretch of my neck and I was back in control.

  Adam’s fists remained clenched.

  “So, what now?” I asked. “We’ve tested each other’s defences. Impressively, neither of us has given an inch.” I’d meant that as a compliment, but by the look of a
nger crossing Adam’s face, it hadn’t been received as such. “Do we hunt Caleb tonight or do I leave you to your hunt of Wayne Pascoe?”

  “You think Nick would let you go? Just like that?”

  “I’ve told him everything I can.”

  “Hardly,” Adam snapped back.

  I levelled a look at his implacable face. “If I want to leave, I will leave,” I said. “There is nothing Nicholas Anscombe can do about it.”

  Adam let out a frustrated breath of air and turned away, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. I knew what those strands felt like now. I knew the scent of his shampoo.

  And I knew I was being too hard on him, if I was honest. And as I’m always honest with myself, the realisation hurt.

  Oh, Nick would have told Adam to keep me close, to gain my trust somehow. And from what Nick had said when he’d burst in here before, he’d even told Adam to “break me.” But I had no doubt that Adam had sex with me for no other reason than because he was attracted to my arse. Because, like me, he couldn’t say no. Because, he didn’t want to.

  Shit, and now I was thinking about the sex, the unbelievably fantastic sex. My eyes darted to the wall where he’d held me, arms stretched above my head in a move I rarely allowed anyone. Especially when the rest of me had gone AWOL. I’d lost control. He’d taken it.

  A shiver raced down my spine.

  When my eyes came back to the rest of the room, Adam was watching me. There was no knowing look on his face, in fact, he’d hidden every single emotion away like a pro.

  “Wayne Pascoe can wait,” he said.

  I smiled. He had no idea how wrapped up in all of this the drug dealer was. I didn’t educate him - I didn’t know the full story - that would come with time. First, I needed Caleb. Or we really would all die.

  “We hunt your man,” he added. “But, Charlie?”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “We do it my way or not at all.”

  I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest.