Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(41)

“D’you remember that sense of wonder you felt the first time you found something that made you happy? It might have been your beloved Blanco, or the first time you picked up a knife here. It’s that feeling in the pit of your stomach at the idea of never having it again—of losing it all.”

He tucked wet strands of hair behind her ear as he pulled her close, the need to have her there nearly overwhelming him in that moment.

“You don’t have to have felt love to know once you’ve find it, Luna,” he said with the slight smile at the look in her eyes—starry-eyed wonder. “You’ll know.”

Going up onto the tips of her toes, she kissed him, taking him by surprise for only a moment before he dragged her closer, and took her mouth the way he wanted.

He coaxed her lips to part, even as he bent to grab her by the back of her thighs and lifted her up. He carried her through the water until she was nearly completely out of it, though it still came up to his knees.

Drawing her legs off from around him, she stared up at him with wide eyes as his fingers tugged at the panties she wore, nearly ripping them off her in his need to get her bare.

Shifting out of the water, she was poised at the ledge, legs spread in invitation. Just the sight of her like that, the same hunger he felt reflected in her eyes was enough to make his cock hard. Droplets clung to her skin, drawing his gaze to her *. He couldn't resist the urge to touch her there, drawing his index finger up her lips then between, drawing a breathless moan from her.

Just seeing the way she squirmed, the restlessness that had already overtaken her made masculine pride flare. He'd barely touched her, just the slightest brush of his fingers against her and she was already sensitive to the touch, just begging him to give her what she clearly wanted.

But the last time he had her spread open for him like this, he had wanted it to be about her, for her to understand how good it could feel.

Now? Now was about him.

He wanted to see how far he could push her—how far she could go before she broke.

Kit admired strength in others, but he often liked to test it.

He could feel her squirming beneath his touch, whether turned on or shy, he wasn't sure, though he thought it was a combination of the two. She even went as far as to attempt to cover herself, but he grabbed hold of her hand before she could.

An idea sparking in his head, he drew her fingers back until he only had her middle and ring finger extended, then he carefully guided her where he wanted them.

“I don't … but I want you to touch me,” she murmured, voice barely loud enough for him to hear.

“I will,” he promised, “but not before you touch yourself—I want to see.”

He expected her to deny him again—coaxing her into it had always been his intention—but she surprised him when her fingers moved almost experimentally, as though trying to mimic what he’d done to her.

This was what he wanted—the abandonment. He wanted her mindless and needing whatever he chose to do to her.

The need to stoke a fire in her was riding him hard, but he reined it in, contenting himself with the sight of her playing with her *.

“Talk to me,” he said as he drew closer, his face now mere inches from her where he was dying to be. “Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how wet you are."

She murmured words he couldn’t understand, but her * told him what words couldn’t.

Fuck, the way she clenched and unclenched around his invading fingers made his own breath hitch as he realized she was— “Don’t come yet, Luna.”

Her lips parted, but whatever she thought to say was forgotten as her body seized and it was too late for her to heed his words. If anything, his words only seemed to make her jolt harder as she came, riding the wave he’d sent crashing through her.

Before she could come down, he pulled his fingers free before replacing them with his mouth, dragging the flat of his tongue up her cleft before delving between.

The taste of her was like a drug, heightening his f*cking senses as he sucked her little clit between his lips, taking satisfaction in the feel of her thighs pressed against his head.

She was lost to the sensations, her fingers sifting through his hair before grabbing the strands tight. He loved her like this, open and willing to accept whatever he gave.

He relished in it.

A ragged moan tore from her throat as he ate at her, his fingers digging in to the flesh of her thighs so hard he was sure she would have bruises by the morning.

But she didn’t complain.

She didn’t try to pull away.

She took it all, like she was made for him.

“Dios mio …”

Her words washed over him in a rush, making him smile against her slippery flesh. He knew what she wanted, could tell from the way she restlessly rolled her hips, silently begging for more.

But she knew that wouldn’t do.

He needed more from her.

“Kit, I-I need you.”

“Oh?” he asked as he drew away, carefully pushing two fingers inside her, greedy feminine muscles sucking him in. “Is this what you need? Does your * need to be filled?”

Even as he punctuated his words with a sharp twist of his fingers, he already knew the answer she wasn’t yet brave enough to speak. It wasn’t enough—she wanted his cock.

Her need was too great, and he was only playing with her.