He leaned over her and began to unbutton her jeans. “Don’t know about that. Just think most people don’t bother looking.”
“They’re missing out.” She lifted her hips to scoot her jeans down over her butt. They got tangled in her ankles for a minute before she kicked them off.
“If you say so,” he said as he took her shirt off, along with her bra. Then she was below him, naked, and he was looming over her like her own Viking conqueror. She ran her hands over his beard. “What was high school Jamison like? I bet you got all the girls, the head cheerleader and the prom queen.”
His lips twitched. “I didn’t.”
“Impossible.”
“Late bloomer. I was scrawny as fuck, awkward and shy. Grew four inches after I graduated high school and put on forty pounds in basic.”
“What’s the equivalent of puck bunnies for the military then? Stars-and-stripes bunnies?”
He laughed out loud this time. “Wasn’t much of that, either.”
“How is that possible?”
“’Case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a charmer. Didn’t go to bars, dance, none o’ that shit.” He leaned down and brushed her nose with his. “Why you asking me about this? You want me to tell you again that you’re special?”
“No, I guess I want to believe that you were happy once.”
He froze over her, his muscles hardening to stone. Oh shit. She’d fucked up, gone too far. She didn’t know what he’d been through, but she knew him well enough to have seen the scars and wounds he carried inside. Goose bumps raced over her skin. “Jock, I’m sorry I—”
“I was. Okay? I was, then I wasn’t. Now I’m feeling pretty happy unless you’re gonna make me rehash shit I don’t want to rehash while I’m naked in bed with you.”
She pursed her lips together, hiding a smile. “No, Jock.”
“I’m gonna kiss you now, then.”
“That’s a good idea.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His tongue licked into her mouth, more demanding than he’d been before, and she reveled in it. Jock was safe; he would protect her. She didn’t have to worry. He’d stop if she wanted to stop, and he’d fuck her hard if she wanted that instead. Which she did. Oh yes, she did.
She hadn’t been a virgin when they’d taken her, but she’d been inexperienced. She was still a little nervous when Jock’s hand slid down her thigh with a smooth confidence and then yanked her leg up over his hip. He thrust against her, a beautiful roll of his body, and she gripped his ass, loving the power in his body that he was using all on her, for her pleasure.
The hard ridge of his cock rubbed against her clit, the feel of skin on skin deliciously erotic. Her skin heated, and she could feel the flush of arousal spread through her body. She clung to him and sucked on his neck, knowing she was leaving a mark and wanting to do it.
“Wanna go down on you again, baby,” he rasped into her hair. “Been thinking about it nonstop since last time.”
She pulled off his neck and admired the red mark. “I’ve been thinking about it since you did it.”
He moaned and slid down her body, pausing to press a few kisses to her breasts, her stomach, her hips, and the top of her mound. He knelt on the floor at the end of the bed and tugged her to him. After settling her thighs over his shoulders, he blew on her wet, heated folds. She squirmed, clutching at the hair on the sides of his head. She must have yanked a little hard because he grunted. “Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she said.
He grinned. “Nah, I like it. Love how aggressive you get. You know you do that, right? You pull and scratch.” This was embarrassing, and she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. But he wasn’t having it and clamped his hands around her thighs. “No, don’t. I love it. I love how hard you dig those nails into me. Do it all, baby. Bite, smack, draw blood, I don’t give a fuck.”
“You’re perfect,” she breathed, before she had a moment to consider her words.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Nah, just lucky.” Then he lowered his head, nuzzled his nose into her clit, and gave her skin one long, slow, hot-as-hell lick.
She arched her back and clenched his hair in her fists. Oh God, he was so fucking good at this. Once he started, he didn’t let up. Growls and nips and swirls, like he was feasting on her, and she wanted it, wanted to be his five-course meal.
When his tongue dipped into her entrance, her body seized. She hadn’t been expecting that, and he slowly lifted his head to peer at her. His face was wet from her, his lips plump and red, and it turned her on to see him covered in her. “That all right?”
She had trouble speaking. “I—yeah, it just surprised me, I guess.”
“Gonna add my fingers, baby. Can you handle that?”
Fingers. Thick and dry and it hurt…
“Fiona.” His firm voice brought her back. “We don’t—”
“I want you to.” She hated how her voice trembled.
She could see the gears working in his head before he said, “I’ll talk you through it, tell you what I’m doing. No surprises.”
She swallowed. That sounded okay. “All right.”
He smiled at her. “Gonna rub your clit here. It’s so swollen and a little hard because you want it bad, don’t you?”
She nodded and bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as he pressed on it with his thumb.
“You’re soaked, Fiona. So it’s gonna feel good when I put my fingers inside you, all right? Just one. I’m fucking dying to feel how hot you are inside. Bet you’re soft as fuck too.”
His finger circled her entrance, and she opened her eyes to find him watching what he was doing, his hungry gaze on her most intimate place. She was spread for him, her legs braced wantonly over his shoulders. She reached down and brushed the hair on top of his blond head. He met her gaze and she smiled.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Ready for me to go inside you? It’s just me and you here, and I’m gonna make you feel good. You know I can, right?”
“Yes, J,” she whispered.
A shudder wracked his body as he slowly pressed a finger into her. “Tell me how it feels.”
Full, she felt full. Jock’s thumb was on her clit, his other hand cupping her butt, and a thick finger was stretching her, filling her, reaching deep inside where she wanted to be claimed by someone who cared about her. Jock. Jamison. J. It would be him.
He crooked his finger, and at first she jolted, and then a warmth spread through her core, like he’d turned her insides to molten lava with one touch. “Oh God,” she gasped, pushing into him, her body automatically knowing what to do as her hips rocked.
“Yes,” he murmured and tongued her clit for a moment. “You look so damn beautiful right now.”
His finger felt so good, and when he added another, she thought she saw stars. He was working on a place inside her that was twisting her inside out, baring everything she had. Her hips rocked harder, and she gripped the bed, seeking purchase to get those fingers deeper, harder.
Jock’s head lowered again, and when he sucked on her clit, the fireworks went off. All the colors exploded behind her eyes and she screamed, clenching tightly around his fingers. She wasn’t sure what her body was doing. She didn’t have control. All she knew was that Jock owned her now with his calming voice, smooth hands, and wicked tongue.
Lips nibbled hers, and she opened up her eyes to see Jock looming over her. He was cupping her, and she felt soaked, wetter than she’d ever been in her life. He rubbed her gently as he pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth. “How was that?”
She would not cry again. But goddamn she’d needed that, like a cleansing. “That was incredible.”
He grinned, all cocky man, and she didn’t even care. He deserved it. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft. She loved his dick, loved the feel of it in her hands, the way the veins stood out underneath the skin, and the softness of the spongy head. She stroked him, and he rocked into her. “Fuck.”
She spread her legs on either side of his hips, even though her limbs were like jelly, and ran the tip of his cock over her wet folds. “I want this inside me, too.”
His eyes popped open and he pulled back a bit. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
He nuzzled her nose, kissed her jaw, then her lips, all while she stroked him, mixing his pre-come with her own juices.
He broke the kiss. “Let me get a condom.”
“You have some?”
“Don’t usually keep some on hand, but picked up some after the hotel.”
She didn’t comment on his optimism, just glad he’d thought to get some.
He broke away from her for a moment to roll on the condom and then he was back on top of her. He let some of his weight fall, bracing himself on his forearms, hands nestled in her hair. “Hope I can make this good for you.”
“It’s already good for me,” she whispered.
He swallowed. “Guide me in then, baby.”
He was giving her this, the control. She placed her feet flat on the bed, angled her hips, and pressed the head of his cock right at her entrance. Then she let go and grasped his firm, muscled ass. She squeezed and pulled him against her.
He didn’t push harder, didn’t thrust. She knew how much control this was taking him as his entire body was a trembling mass of tension. The veins in his neck stood out as he held himself back. And she loved him for it. She really did.
The head of his cock breached her, and she was so sensitive from her orgasm that she gasped. He stilled. “Okay?”
Her answer was to squeeze his ass harder and continue to pull him inside of her. He kissed her as his shaft slid inside, filling her more fully than his fingers had, impossibly full. It seemed to go on forever, that delicious drag of his length inside of her, until finally, his balls rested against her skin, and they were locked together. Jock twitched above her, and his hips jerked as his eyes fell closed, and his head dropped down. “Fuck, you feel like a goddamn dream. Pinch me, baby.”
She pinched his ass and his head righted as he grinned at her. “Nah, guess I’m awake.”
“Take over,” she said.
He tilted his head in question.
“Go on,” she said. “Give it to me. Let go. I want to feel you. I want you to take me. Make me yours.”
He settled his weight on one arm, and with the other cupped her cheek as his hips rocked gently. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, over her bottom lip. “Make you mine? You have been since the moment you shot me.”
She felt the tears coming, and no fucking way would she cry right now. “Do it, J.”
Fire sparked in his eyes, so damn hot that it seared her. She braced, but he only tilted back his hips, pulling his cock out to the tip and then slowly coasting back inside. Her eyes eased closed at the stretch of him filling her.
“Keep your eyes open,” he said on another soft thrust of his hips. “Want you to see it’s me.”
She listened, staring up into his blue eyes as he took his time, easing in and out of her body, one hand sifting through her hair as he dropped soft kisses on her jaw, her neck, and her lips. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t have to because everywhere he touched her was a promise, a gift.
She began to rock her hips with his, slow at first as she focused on his rhythm. His breath sped up, and he bit back a curse, so she knew he liked it, that he was affected. It spurred her on. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and moved with him, eyes locked on his. He surrounded her, his touch, his smell, his body, and it blocked out everything but that moment, them in the bed together.
She was going to come again. She could feel it gathering, and it felt so big, so much. Jock had her clutched to him, her face pressed into his neck, her body cocooned into his, cradling her.
“Beautiful,” Jock was muttering into her ear, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp. “So fucking perfect, my Fiona. Jesus fucking Christ.”
She sucked on his skin, the spot where his shoulder met his neck. There was a muscle—she couldn’t remember the name right now—but it was gorgeous on Jock, soft skin over hardened power.
He let out a groan as his hips stuttered, the rhythm falling apart, and he clenched his fingers in the sheet by her bed. His muscles strained, body vibrating, and the sight of him like that rocked her. Fiona’s orgasm roared down her spine, shattering her, and she clenched around his cock, her hips working as she clung to him. He arched his back as he pulsed inside of her.
He fell onto the bed on his forearm, still inside of her. Her hands fell from his shoulders to rest on the bed. She wasn’t going to move for about a hundred years. Already, she could feel her thighs begin to ache. Jock’s heavy pants filled her ear and though she longed to run her fingers through his hair, her muscles weren’t working. She could only lay there, eyes half-open, as Jock smoothed the hair off her forehead with a shaky hand. “Baby?”
“Mmmph,” she mumbled.
“Huh?”
“Can’t move,” she managed.
“Am I too heavy?”
She rolled her head back and forth. “No, too fucking good at fucking.”
He laughed, the gorgeous sound filling the room, and that got her to smile, too. He looked five years younger when he laughed. He stopped to press a kiss to her lips. “I’m gonna pull out, help you get cleaned up, then we’ll sleep. I’m not sure I can think anymore; my brain is boiled.”
“Mmm, same,” she said on a yawn. Her eyes closed, and the heat of Jock’s body left hers.
A minute later, something pressed between her legs, something warm and damp. She shifted restlessly. A blanket covered her, and she snuggled into it. Sometime later, a warm body pulled her into an embrace, and she nuzzled into it, loving the feeling of being surrounded by big arms and a masculine scent. She fell asleep to the steady beat of a heartbeat she knew would never fail her.
* * *
“You’re a stupid idiot.”
Jock hadn’t realized he’d missed Marisol until he heard her voice again.
“You’ll owe me? Fucking owe me?” She stood in his kitchen, a petite, green-haired spitfire wearing black and hot pink. Large hoops dangled from her ears as she gestured wildly. “Erick and I aren’t going to do this just so we can claim you owe us, dumbass. We’re all stuck together now. I knew that the minute we banded together for Flynn. None of us thought that was going to be the end. Hacking’s always a goddamn, never-ending web.”
Yeah, he’d missed her. She stomped over to the fridge and opened it up. “I need a candy bar or some shit.”
Fiona was watching Marisol with wide eyes, and yeah, Jock knew the feeling. She’d shown up with Erick and hadn’t stopped ranting since they’d told her the plan and asked if she wanted in. Erick stood along the far wall, a huge grin on his face. Jock was happy to see Erick in a good mood. During the last mission, Erick had revealed that he and Flynn had secretly been lovers. Jock hadn’t known Erick before, but Roarke had expressed many times that Erick wasn’t his usual joker self since Flynn’s death.
Marisol grabbed a leftover muffin and bit into it as she turned around. She stopped when she saw Fiona. Her body went tight for a moment before her face softened—something Jock hadn’t thought she was capable of doing. Then she gave Fiona a tender smile. “Hey there, kitten.”
Fiona returned the smile. “Hi.”
“Marisol, Fiona. Fiona, Marisol,” Jock said as introductions.
Marisol shoved the rest of the muffin in her mouth and swiped her hands on her black jeans. “Nice to meet you.” She cocked her head. “Jock treating you okay?”
Fiona nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’s been wonderful.”
Jock felt his chest puff up just as Marisol raised her eyebrows. “Wonderful? Huh. Jock can be human. Who knew?”
“Shut it, Marisol,” Jock rumbled, but she just grinned at him. When they’d first met, he wasn’t so sure about her. She was sarcastic and flirty and dug under his skin. But eventually they’d fallen
into a brother-sister relationship full of banter and insults. He’d found he missed it after the last mission was over. But now Marisol was back, full of that same fire.
“What you been up to since I saw you last?” he asked her.
“I thought I was supposed to shut it?” She punched him in the arm.
“Answer.”
“I don’t know, Grumpy. Here and there. Out and about. Honestly, I was getting a little bored and was about to start some shit just to keep life interesting.”
“Well, we got you covered.”
“I have such great friends.” Marisol beamed at him. She wore a deep purple lipstick, which made her teeth look even whiter. She turned to Fiona. “So, Wren’s my girl, and you’re Wren’s girl, so therefore you’re my girl. It’s, like, math or something. And I’m super excited to take down some assholes who’ve made my girl’s life miserable. Do I have that right?”
Fiona’s lip trembled, and Jock went into protective mode. In one step he was at her side, and she curled into his chest. She didn’t make a sound, but her shoulders shook with silent tears. He glared at Marisol over Fiona’s dark head. “What the fuck?”
Marisol held up her hands, actual alarm on her pretty features. “I’m sorry! What did I say? I’ll take it back.”
Fiona pushed on Jock’s chest, but he didn’t move. She pushed again and mumbled, “Let me go.”
He did, and she left his arms, reaching for Marisol. “No, you didn’t say anything wrong. I just…” She inhaled sharply and her voice dropped. “Having people at my back is going to take some getting used to.”
Marisol’s face fell, and now she looked like she was going to cry. “Oh kitten, we aren’t at your back. We’re the front line.”
Fiona threw back her head and, in a teary shout, hollered, “You people need to stop saying nice things or I’ll never stop crying!”
Marisol headed right for the wine rack. “That’s it. We’re drinking.”
“It’s not even noon,” Jock snapped.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Marisol said. “This girl needs a drink. I need a drink. Erick, you want a drink?”
Darkest Night Page 14
