Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(48)

But he wasn’t going there.

Oh, no.

He may have made the decision to take a taste of what she was offering since it was likely going to be his last meal, but he was damned well going to stop before the main course. Because he knew she had feelings for him, and he knew she talked big about not thinking he’d be taking advantage of her if he…well…f*cked the shit out of her like he wanted to. But the truth of the matter was, despite her bravado and protestations to the contrary, Vanessa Cordero was a bleeding heart romantic. And if he let this thing between them reach the pinnacle of physicality, he knew she’d regret it.

She’d regret it when she realized he wasn’t lying about keeping his emotions locked away. She’d regret it when she knew he really wasn’t coming back for her no matter what. And, she’d definitely regret it once he was dead and buried and there’d be no way for her to salvage her pride and tell him off for the previous two infractions.

So he’d offer her what he could, and take from her what he felt she could afford to give without suffering any self-recrimination, and he’d hold what they shared in—maybe not his heart; he was making damn sure to keep that particular organ out of the equation—but, perhaps, his soul. Oui, somewhere safe. Somewhere where he could take it out and cherish it when the end was near.

“Oh, Rock,” she gasped, stroking him so expertly it took everything he had not lose it right then and there. In fact, he needed to make this thing happen. Now.

He found the hard, slippery knot of nerves at the top of her sex with the pad of his thumb. Rubbing it gently from side-to-side, he worked his fingers, pumping quickly.

“Rock, Rock…” His name became a chant she whispered over and over against his lips and then…

Sweet Lord in heaven, she came.

With one long cry of triumph, she clamped down on his fingers, sucked his tongue into her mouth, and moved against his hand with the kind of wild abandon every man dreams of. Rocking her hips, her inner muscles spasming, hard at first, and then more softly, she rode out her orgasm. And all the while her hand was still working on his raging cock, sliding, stroking, spreading his own wetness down the length of him until it felt so good he knew he had to stop her.

With his free hand, he grabbed her wrist, but she refused to let go, refused to stop that maddening stroking. Pulling back on a strangled gasp, he found her watching him, a dark, feminine knowledge glowing in the depths of her eyes.

“S-stop.” That’s what he said with his mouth, but his body demanded more, more, more. Evidenced by the fact that his pelvis tilted slightly forward, seemingly of its own accord.

“I’ll stop,” she breathed, still working him, still looking up him, the very picture of female provocation, “if you make love to me.”

“N—” For an instant the pleasure was so intense he couldn’t make his vocal cords work. But when he squeezed her wrist, managing to slow her movements, he found it within himself to shake his head. “Non, chere. I can’t do that. I won’t.”

For a long second, she just watched him and…oh, Lordy, is she ever somethin’! With her cheeks all flushed from desire, her lips swollen from his kisses, and her dark eyes half-lidded and lazy from spent passion. Then she seemed to come to some sort of decision, because her expression changed and—

Oh, hell. I know that look!

It was the same one she’d given him when they’d been standing in the middle of that jungle trail back in Monteverde Cloud Forest. And that look was, in a word: determination.

He had a moment to feel a skitter of apprehension slip up his spine, but that was it. Just one, all-too-brief second to try to decide how to best remove her firm grip from his cock without doing himself serious harm, before she leaned up and snagged his lips, licking slowly into his mouth as she did something crazy with her hand. And then he not only forgot that he was supposed to be stopping this thing, he also forgot his own name.

Zut alors! He didn’t know what she was doing, some sort of magical twist and tug, but it was the best damn thing he’d ever felt. And before he could try to wrangle his scattered thoughts, before he could pull his wits about him and take back control, she released his lips, only to kiss her way back to his ear and whisper, “Come for me, Rock,” right before she bit down on his earlobe.

His orgasm exploded through him like a landmine, quick and startling and completely debilitating. Colors flashed, sounds echoed, the world around him condensed into a tight ball of sensation, and Vanessa worked at him until she’d wrung every last drop of the pleasure from his body.

And only when he slumped against her, his forehead on her shoulder, his breath sawing out of his lungs like he’d just wrestled an alligator, did it begin to sink in what had happened.

Sonofabitch! This isn’t what I wanted. This isn’t—

“Your thoughts are incredibly loud,” she whispered, placing a series of gentle kisses on the bandage that covered the wound on his neck.

He pulled back to look at her, at the beauty of her face, at the perfection of her small, triumphant smile, and something in him threatened to soften. For a brief moment, he once more found himself wishing things were different. Wishing he’d chosen another path all those years ago when his family died, when Lacy died, and the specter that was The Project and Rwanda Don offered him a chance at another life.

But then an image of his parents’ bodies, bloated and unrecognizable, flashed through his brain, an image of Lacy, looking up at him from her hospital bed with such sadness, skewered through his mind, and his heart hardened once again.