Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)(25)

As quickly as he silenced her with a kiss, he dragged his lips across her jaw and down her neck, biting down just enough to keep her aware of what he was doing.

His hands diving beneath her skirt, he tugged her stockings and panties down her legs, just far enough that he could get his hand down between her legs. When he had his thumb circling her clit, her head fell back, her hands squeezing at the material of his jacket.

“Now how exactly do you want me to prove it to you?” Niklaus asked at her ear, pressing closer, making her aware of the erection that was straining his jeans.

“Niklaus…” His name was a whisper, her attention solely focused on the way his thumb moved against her.

She felt him smile as he said, “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Is that what you want? You want me to f*ck you right here?” He asked, and this time, the humor was gone from his voice, replaced with a strain that she felt too.

Her thoughts may have been in chaos, but the moment the question was hanging between them, she seized on it, her sex clenching at the very idea.

“Please, Niklaus. Right now.”

He didn’t waste a second, dropping down to practically rip her stockings and panties off her. She was already one step ahead of him, stepping out of her shoes to make it easier. The moment she was bare beneath her skirt, he was back on his feet and her hands were at his belt, tugging the leather free.

Pulling a small square from his back pocket, he tore it open with his teeth, letting the aluminum packet fall to the ground at their feet.

When she finally got his jeans open, her hand closing around the hard, long length of his cock, stroking up and down. He only allowed it for a moment longer before he was sheathed in a condom and had his hands at the back of her thighs as he lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist.

Niklaus didn’t waste any time as he angled his cock at her entrance and pushed in. The last time they had been together, he had waited ages, teasing her for what felt like hours before he finally gave in.

Now…now there was a feel of desperation to the way he handled her, from the way he was sliding inside, to the almost painful grip he had on her ass as he held her steady.

“Shit.”

Niklaus froze the minute he heard the expletive leave her lips. Held up against a wall by 190-pounds of lean muscle was enough for a tremor to slip up her spine. It might not have been very long since the last time she was with him, but her body had obviously forgotten just how f*cking big he was.

How it took a moment for her * to stretch enough to fit him in.

He didn’t stay still for long, gradually pulling out, enough to scrape across every nerve ending inside of her, then thrusting back in, harder than the first.

A ragged moan spilled from her lips as her back hit the wall, her hands clutching onto his shoulders, but he didn’t stop—not when she was crying his name or as she exploded into pieces in his arms.

Only when he gave one last brutal thrust inside of her did he finally come, his grip on her loosening just enough that she could finally take in a good, lungful of air.

As that haze of lust cleared, Reagan fell back to reality very quickly, pulling away from him as she straightened her clothes as best she could.

It was almost annoying how quickly his disheveled appearance disappeared when he didn’t have to do nearly as much as she did—and she bet she still looked a mess.

“Reagan—”

“Don’t—just don’t, Niklaus.” Shoving her hair out of her face, she rolled her eyes. “Is that even your name?”

He didn’t look the slightest bit concerned by her question. “I didn’t lie about that.”

Oh? She had expected he had, going over various names in her head. She had looked up his name once before, learning that it was Russian in origin—but thought that maybe his parents liked the names because he definitely didn’t sound Russian to her.

“Kind of hard for me to believe that when you disappeared six months ago. No one had even heard your name before.”

“Wanna talk?”

Reagan stared in disbelief at just how casual Niklaus asked the question—as though she wasn’t accusing him of being a liar, at the very least that he had f*cked her up against an alley wall.

“I have a feeling that my definition of talk is different from yours.”

“No,” he said reaching for her hand. “I mean it.”

“About anything? You’ll tell me everything?”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Reagan didn’t have time to ponder his words, or that he hadn’t actually answered the question, he was already leading her down the street.





Chapter Thirteen





“A definite step up from the last one, but you have terrible taste in hotels,” Reagan said as she entered the room of Niklaus as he held the door open.

He merely smiled at her words. “It’s enough for me.”

She would just have to take his word for that.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she carefully removed her shoes, wiggling her toes into the carpet for comfort as she had been standing on linoleum and concrete all day.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” Niklaus said as he reached for the bag that was sitting next to the night stand. “Wanna join me?”