by Zoe Dawson
“Your mouth,” he whispered. “Use your month on me.”
Her stomach a mass of trembling, electric butterflies, she closed her mouth over him, sucking and licking. He arched his back, the long line of his ribcage the perfect place for her to explore next. He twisted his head again when she dragged her nails across the ridges of his abdomen, loving the feel of his muscle.
“Damn!” he said under his breath, a heated whisper into the thick, passion-soaked air. With the flat of her tongue, she laved him, her hand coming up and tracing the line of his pectoral muscles, teasing his other nipple with her fingers, then pinching him hard.
He groaned low and deep in his throat, arching his back again. She raised her head and watched him unravel for her, and it was the most powerful feeling she’d ever had. Vin coming undone. Controlled, calm and collected Special Agent Vincent Fitzgerald. His face was stark with his desire, his mouth slightly open, his eyes glazed and unfocused.
She cupped his jaw, loving the roughness of his dark stubble against her hand, sliding it up and into his damp, silky hair, clenching her fingers in it and gently tugging his mouth to hers.
Capturing his lips, she kissed him over and over again.
He made a low growl in his throat and rose, groaning softly in pain.
“No, Vin, your shoulder.” But he either didn’t hear her, was too far gone, or didn’t give a damn.
He carried her out of the bathroom to the bed, where he gently let her slide down the length of his body.
Chapter Eight
He was in so much trouble right now. He should get control of himself, take this slow—slow it down.
He should be stopping.
But Sky had a different agenda. She hooked her fingers into his towel and looked up at him. “I want to see you. I’ve never really…do you mind?”
What the hell? Was she seriously asking if he cared if she looked at him? Was she out of her mind? He wanted her to look, touch, participate.
“Sky…” he said, truly not sure what was going to come out of his mouth but saying no to her was simply beyond his capability. “Take it off.”
She tugged at the towel, and it dropped off him, slid and fell around his feet.
She caught her breath and stared. Her eyes not just roving over him, but caressing him with so much fire, he could feel the heat down the length of his body. Her appreciative gaze slid over his abdomen and down to his dick. It was hard, jutting out from his body. She lingered there as if she were studying him for a test.
Slowly, she raised her head and met his eyes.
Yeah, he was fucked.
“Can I touch you there?”
He took a heated breath and gave her an incredulous look.
She dropped her head. “Please, Vin. I can feel that you’re worried about us being together intimately, but I want to know what it’s like to be with a man I truly care about.” She took a deep breath. "And I do care about you. This has only been bearable because of you. What you did to save me from those Russians…I’m so thankful.
“I’ve never been very good with the opposite sex. I'm very aware that I'm sexually appealing to men. I see the way they look at me. I’m so nerdy. I figure you can help. That is, let me explore and experience you.”
He leaned forward. “You are hot. You don’t have to ask permission to touch me.”
“It’s your body. I just thought…was that stupid?”
“No, you can touch me only for about a million years, then you’ll have to stop.”
“What?” Her head popped up, and when she saw his face, she smiled, “Oh, you’re being funny.”
Her hand moved over his lower stomach around to the small of his back, then she cupped him and pressed on his butt, driving his balls into her hand. He could barely breathe. He watched her, and the look on her face only revved him up more.
He closed his eyes when her hand slid over him, her touch tentative at first. There was nothing funny about this.
She leaned against him, her hand sliding up around his erection, then sliding back down.
“Looser,” he rasped, and her grip relaxed slightly, perfectly, so freaking good at the same time she palmed the head. He moaned, arching his back. His knees almost buckled as he reached out, bending forward at the exquisite feel of her, and set his hands against her shoulders. She trailed soft, slow kisses against his chest, passing over one of his nipples and sucking on him again.
He had no idea how much he enjoyed that until her mouth and tongue were driving him wild.
He snagged her wrist and pulled her away from him. She made a soft noise of protest, but he couldn’t take any more. “I don’t want to come in your hand, sweetheart.”
She pressed her face against his chest, her breathing erratic. It turned him on that she was so aroused from touching him.
“Condoms,” he said as he moved back and headed to the medicine cabinet praying there were some in there. Opening the door, he jerked when her arms slipped around him. She was completely naked. He could feel it against his hot skin.
She rubbed her face against his back, curling her hands around him and caressing his chest, then flowing down over his ribs, stomach and hips.
“Did you find them?”
Lost in the sensation, he said stupidly, “What?”
“The condoms?”
“Oh, damn, that’s right.” He used everything he had to focus his attention on locating them, breathing a sigh of relief when he found a full box.
She chuckled against his back, and he smiled like a fool. “It’s your fault. You distracted me.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, a naked woman kinda does that to a man.” He turned around, clasping the condoms in his hand. “You do that to me,” he whispered.
She gazed up at him, looking so striking in the warm light from the late afternoon sun. He had no sense of time. He was lost in her eyes, drowning in the bottomless blue depths.
For a split second he had doubts about this, but she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his. “You are making this something I won’t easily forget. You’re so wonderful, Vin. Do you know that?”
“I’m a friggin’ saint,” he said wryly, taking her hand and drawing her over toward the fireplace. “You’re going to get the chance to take control, sweetheart. I can’t put pressure on my injured shoulder. You’ll have to get on top.”
She pulled back against his hand, looking spooked. “But I’ve never.”
He couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over her, taking in her creamy shoulders, her delicate collarbones, flowing over her high, pink-tipped breasts, down the smooth expanse of her flat stomach, touching on her slender hips to the thatch of hair between her sleek thighs. He tugged her forward right up against him. “It’s okay,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be here every step of the way. How’s your head feeling?” he asked.
Her eyes went over his body. “Just a headache. I’m not thinking about it right now.”
Everything in him tightened. He lay down in front of the fire; the thick, warm, soft rug beneath him was so comfortable, but the pressure against his shoulder was painful.
She folded down next to him on the rug, looking awkward and unsure. Without saying anything, he grabbed her by the waist with his good arm and dragged her across his lap and promptly forgot about his shoulder.
“Do what feels natural, Sky. Chances are I’m going to like it a whole lot.”
She smiled and dipped down, pressing her mouth to his, whispering, “How will I know?”
“Oh, believe me, you’ll know.”
She pressed her mouth to his at the same time that she slid along his rock-hard erection. He groaned at the pleasure she gave him.
She raised her head. “Oh, like that?”
His breathing ragged, he said, “Exactly like that.”
“More?”
“Yes, ma’am, please.”
Her slick heat closed over him, and he wanted to get inside her, but he was going to ha
ve to settle for letting her control the situation this time. If he was in control—ah, when was he ever with this woman—he would probably have gone too fast for her, and that’s what he wanted to avoid. He didn’t know who the guy was who had been so insensitive to her needs, but he was missing out big-time.
He grasped her hips and dragged her across his chest, to his mouth. She made a soft sound in her throat, and he breathed deep of her heady, feminine scent. “Lower yourself to my mouth.”
Her hips jerked against his hands, and she complied as he clamped his lips over her lush core and sucked.
So hot and wet against his tongue, she cried out and arched her back. He used the tip to stroke, quick flicks with soft suction, then, a slow languorous slide of his tongue against her. She rode his mouth, her hips undulating; her pleasure-filled voice only made him want more.
“Vin,” she breathed right before she pulsated against his mouth as she released a long, drawn-out sobbing cry.
“Condom,” he ground out when she moved off him.
“But…I want…”
“Next time,” he rasped out, he couldn’t wait any longer. “Put the condom on me.”
She reached over and snagged one out of the box and opened the foil packet. “Damn,” he said between gritted teeth as she slowly rolled it over him. As soon as it was on him, he pulled her forward and groaned. “Lean toward me,” he instructed, and she braced her hands against the floor. Slipping inside her, he thrust at the same time that he pressed on her hips. But he didn’t have to help her along anymore. She made a heated sound in the back of her throat and met his thrust. Then, before he could catch the breath that was eluding him, she rode him hard and fast.
He captured the back of her head and drew her mouth down to his, and she kissed him, her mouth ravenous, her breathing erratic. “Sky…” He pumped against her, with every deep thrust wanting, wanting, getting so strung out, his mouth all over her—endless minute after endless minute, until she gave him everything he wanted, her body going stiff above him. He groaned softly as the pleasure built and built inside him. Her head went back on a cry, and her back arched. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, never felt anything more exquisite than the cascade of her contractions tightening around him, and it undid him. His breath caught. His release so fierce and hot, his hips came up off the rug, his back arching, crying out against her mouth.
She collapsed against him, and he wrapped his good arm around her, breathing hard.
She stayed on him, and he was okay with that as he absorbed the feel of her against him. Finally, she moved and slid off him. He rose, went to the bathroom and took care of the condom.
Back on the rug, he reached out for her, but she didn’t go far, snagging the throw blanket off the couch. Covering them both up, she slid down and settled her head against his good shoulder and buried her face into his throat where she pressed soft, heated kisses.
He rubbed his hand against her scalp. Her hair was thick and soft beneath his hand. He drew her face up and pressed his mouth over hers, needing the feel of her lips.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his mouth. “That was—”
“Fantastic?”
She slid her arms around his neck and tugged him closer. “Oh, yes, but that’s not what I was thanking you for, although I appreciate it.”
He kissed his way along the soft line of her jaw. “What were you going to say?”
She sighed and relaxed more fully into him, tipping her chin to allow him access to that tender spot beneath her ear. “That was much different than what I have ever experienced. I appreciate your patience.”
He kissed the spot where her pulse throbbed, eliciting the tiniest of moans. It was enough to make him hard all over again, aching to the point of pain. And he wanted desperately to hear her do that again. “This is the bottom line, sweetheart. That guy was a complete selfish jerk.”
She flinched at that, and her expression went uncomfortable. “I’m beginning to understand that.”
“It’ll be better when I can fully participate.”
“Better—” She broke off on a short moan when he cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb over her hard nipple. “Are you kidding?” she managed.
She pushed him back and dropped a set of fast, hot kisses against his neck, her hand slipping down his body to score his ribcage with her nails, which had his body twitching hard with a grunt deep in his chest. “No. I’m not.”
“Wow,” she said, her voice soft and husky.
Then she took his mouth this time, but she slowed it down, gentled the assault, which perversely turned him on even more. She teased, he taunted, they slipped their tongues more sinuously along the other, tasting, touching. Soft sighs filled the warm room. His, hers—he’d lost track. He was drowning, and he didn’t want to be saved. Reality would intrude soon enough. It always did. He wasn’t going to hurry it along any faster.
This time he rolled her to her side and reached for a condom. Ripping the foil open, he rolled it on one-handed, then his head bent down to her breast. He covered her nipple with his mouth, laving it with his tongue. He sucked on her, and she buried her hands in his hair, holding him to her.
“That feels so good,” she breathed.
“You taste so good,” he growled, moving to her other breast and her sweet, hard nipple.
“Vin,” she moaned. “Oh, God, Vin!”
He shifted them both to their sides, paused there for a moment to absorb the pain in his shoulder, kissed her, then moved the rest of the way, sinking deeply into her as she lifted up and wrapped her leg around his hip.
He held her gaze in between long, slow kisses, moving inside of her, feeling her match his steady rhythm as easily as if they’d done this forever. He finally slid his arm around her hips and tilted them just slightly, instinctively searching for the sweet spot that every woman had. She gasped and tightened around him almost convulsively. The spot he knew would take them both over the edge. But he held her there, for that one moment out of time, and looked into her eyes. “Sky…”
Her eyes glazed over at her name whispered with that hoarse cast to his voice. He shuddered at the connection and the trust. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her to keep her safe. He thrust into her, the pain in his shoulder mingling with the pleasure and making it bearable. His hips sped up, and she met each hard push with one of her own until they were both groaning raggedly as they dropped off the edge together.
Exhausted, they fell asleep as the fire crackled and the snow thickened outside the window.
His throbbing shoulder woke him. Extricating himself from her, he went to the med kit in the bathroom and took some painkillers. He turned sideways and looked in the mirror. There was no blood on the bandages. That was at least something. He rubbed his face. The day had slipped into night, and he really should check in, but he decided that he’d do that tomorrow.
“Vin?”
He turned to find her standing in the bathroom doorway, the ambient light from the fireplace illuminating her. She was dressed in one of his black NCIS T-shirts. Her long hair was a dark tousled mess. He’d never seen a sexier woman; his heart twisted at the sight of her.
She came into the small space, and he liked feeling crowded by her. “Are you all right?”
He turned toward her, and she reached up to feel his forehead, then fluffed his bangs.
“Shoulder is hurting like a bitch.”
“Come back and lay down. You should get more sleep. Exhaustion and stress aren’t going to help heal that wound. I’ll play one of my CDs. Great for relaxation.”
“If you try to get me to start chanting Om, it’s not going to happen, honey.”
“Om is not just a sound or vibration. It is not just a symbol. It’s a communion and a way to connect to your own being and the universe, whatever we can see, touch, hear and feel. It is a phonemic representation bridging to our spirituality.”
“You are quite serious about Om.”
“Oh, I see. You w
ere teasing me?”
He walked the short distance between them. “Yes, I was teasing you, but I’m intrigued. How does a hard fact scientist buy into the cosmos through spiritualism?”
“You forget my culture. One of our most fundamental mental challenges is to reconcile our scientific understanding of the world with our spiritual experiences and beliefs. There must be a unity at a higher level of reality, despite the outer appearances to the contrary.”
“Ah, that’s what led you to your master’s degree in sound and then to the yoga stuff.”
She blinked and didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yes. You are certainly good at observation and a very clever man. You have a sexy brain.” She reached up and curled her hand against his nape. “Yes, exactly. How are you with the Theory of Everything?”
“The Theory of Everything is all about combining the idea that there are many parts to the universe and there is one thing that links them all.”
“Smarty pants. So, this links to Om. It's not exactly a tangible thing. Not like hard science but the idea that it’s just as powerful.”
“I like it, sweetheart.”
“I have really underestimated your intelligence, Vin.” She moved closer to him. “Great in bed and can keep up with metaphysical conversations. I’m getting hot.”
“Okay, who’s teasing who now?” he said, sending his hand through the tangled strands of her hair. “I like focusing on the material universe, especially your material universe. It’s my…big Baang theory?”
She laughed and settled her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing. “I can almost forget we’re not in terrible danger.”
She tensed, and it tugged at his heart. She did that a lot, that heart-tugging thing, mostly without even trying. He didn’t want to intensify her worries, especially when it was his job to worry. This was a much-needed break from the running-for-their-lives thing. The balance to the bad stuff.
“So, what now?” she asked, sounding contemplative. With her brilliance, glossing over their predicament didn’t have a chance of fooling her.
“What do you mean?”
