A Dom is Forever (Masters and Mercenaries #3)(113)

He smoothed a hand up and down her spine, letting her adjust. It was so f*cking hard when all he wanted was to shove his way in, to dominate her, but this was the way to do it. Patience and caring. His hips moved in measured thrusts, easing his cock head in and out, gaining a centimeter here and there. “Relax. The worst is over. Tell me how you feel.”

He slipped a hand around her hips and toyed with her clit. Her * was soaked and swollen. The minute he slid the pad of his thumb over her clit, she pushed back against him and took him deeper, his cock shifting and easing inside.

“I feel full, Li. So full. It burns a little, but I think I like it.” Her back shivered as she rolled her hips, taking him deep.

His skin lit up when he slid inside, his balls nestling against the cheeks of her ass. He had to hold himself still, allowing the heat and tightness to wash over him. His balls were snug against his body, waiting to go off again, to give her his semen. It belonged to her. He never wanted to wear a damn condom again. Nothing between them. She would walk around with his come inside her, and he would never stop feeling her grip his dick.

“Are you all right?” He prayed she was. He was dying.

“I am. It’s not bad.”

“All right. Then tell me how this feels.” He carefully dragged his cock out until just the head was inside.

“Oh my god. What is that?”

“Nerves you never thought you had.” He foraged back inside, every centimeter a pure joy. He got to show her just how good it could be.

She slammed back against him. This was the push and pull he wanted. This was the sweet fight. Avery started to move, trying to keep him in, then trying to push him back out. She was beautifully impaled on his cock, and she seemed to love every minute of it.

And it was all happening too fast. She felt too f*cking good, too hot and tight and perfect. He couldn’t last. He f*cked deep inside and then pinched down on her clit.

Avery’s cries filled the room, and she clamped down around his dick as she came, sending him hurling into his own orgasm. Semen shot from his balls, filling her up and sending a wave of pleasure through his spine. He fell forward, utterly exhausted, his body driving hers into the bed. The lavender smell of the soap he’d used to wash her skin filled his nose, and he let his face rub against her damp hair. His arm felt like hell, but he forced it to move so he could wrap her in his arms.

“Mine,” he said, twisting so he didn’t crush her.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a little possessive?” Avery asked with a happy sigh as her head found his chest.

“Not once.” He hadn’t been before he met her. He squeezed her tight and kissed her forehead. “I love you, baby. We have to get a move on. Back into the shower with you. I don’t want to miss our show.”

Worry darkened her eyes. “All right.”

The moment was broken, but he promised they would have more. They were getting out. They were going someplace where the past could never touch him again.

Avery got up with a sad little smile, and Liam laid back.

“I put your boots by the door. I almost tripped over them earlier,” Avery called out. “We’re going to have to talk about your housekeeping skills.”

Boots. For just a second, he was back in his nightly dream, looking down at those boots that always seemed so wrong to him. He’d stood there, trying to figure it out all those years ago. Memory was a tricky thing.

It hit like a flash, like a lightning strike that blinded him for a moment.

His dreams had been trying to warn him. Only a silly man wouldn’t listen. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. It was still fuzzy, like a tape that had been slightly warped, but it was still there. The boots had been the key. He hadn’t understood why he got caught on those boots every time. He’d imagined it was because those boots had told him his brother was dead.

But he remembered quite clearly now. Rory’s boots had been at the edge of the couch in that ramshackle death house, but he hadn’t been wearing them.

The boots were wrong because they had been empty, one on its side and sitting straight up as though the owner had simply dropped them after he’d changed into new clothes, a fresh disguise.

Rory had left them behind just like he’d left Liam behind, vestiges of his old life that he’d tossed in an incinerator like old trash.

Bits and pieces of the puzzle started to wind themselves together in his brain. If Rory was working with Nelson, then Nelson had likely had a plan for him. From everything he understood, Nelson hadn’t used those bonds to set himself up somewhere comfy. No. He’d used them to start building something. Ten million wasn’t enough for a man like Nelson. It wouldn’t be enough for Rory either. In the end, what both men truly wanted was power. Nelson was a tricky one. What if he’d kept Rory alive? What if he’d had bigger plans for Rory?

If Rory was alive, then what had he been doing for the last five years?

There was plenty of power and money in the arms business. It would intrigue a man like Nelson, but it wasn’t like opening a gas station. It would take time and planning and years of patience to get to the big time. Nelson had the contacts, but he wouldn’t have the money to set it up. He wouldn’t have an infrastructure to distribute on a wide level.

The UOF had both money a plenty and a way to distribute through their relief shipments. And it had a man at its helm who no one had seen for years before he’d decided to take back over his charity.