Wicked Edge (Realm Enforcers, #2)(26)
“Not enough.” He alternated kisses between her breasts, each one shooting a craving much lower. The sleeping bag caught him, and he swore, turning to jerk down the zipper and shove material out of his way. Cold washed over her, replaced by the heat of his body.
Then his mouth found her core.
She cried out, her nails cutting into his shoulders. “No, I—”
He sucked her throbbing clit into his heated mouth, and she stopped speaking. Stopped moving. She held her breath, unsure, her body rioting.
“Did you just say no?” he asked, sending vibrations through her most intimate parts.
“No, I, we, I mean,” she gasped, trying to find words. It was too much. Too intimate. “You.”
He chuckled, nearly sending her into another orgasm. “Yeah. Me.” He released her, rubbing the spot inside her, and then turned to nip her inner thigh with sharp teeth.
She gasped, her legs trembling.
His canines sank in deeper, piercing her skin. She cried out and tried to yank her flesh from his mouth.
He let her go. “It won’t scar, but you’ll wear my mark for the week.” Masculine satisfaction, lazy and dark, echoed in his tone.
She opened her mouth to protest, but one long, slow swipe of his tongue across her clit forced a whimper from her instead. He did it again, faster this time.
“Let’s get one more from you before we get serious,” he whispered, his heated breath all but killing her. Then he went to work, alternating between soft kisses and harder licks, keeping her on the edge, but not letting her fall over.
Sweat rolled off her forehead, and she moved against him, seeking relief, losing any sense of shyness. All that mattered in the world was reaching that peak he held so tantalizingly away from her. His fingers worked magic inside her, twisting and rubbing, but not quite giving her enough to ease the tension.
He increased the pressure, and a moan caught in her throat. “Now, baby.” He sucked.
She pushed against his mouth, waves crashing through her. The orgasm shook her, head to toe, emanating from his talented tongue. He prolonged the ecstasy until her body fell in limp abandonment onto the warm sleeping bag. She murmured a sound without any real meaning.
He drifted up her body, his skin hot, until his mouth took hers. The drugging kiss slid through her, soothing her ragged breathing. Then he clamped a hand across her butt, half lifted her, and powered inside her. Even with her body satiated, her core wet, the strength in his stroke took her by surprise and forced the air from her lungs.
Her eyelids flew open, and she pressed both hands against his fiery hot chest.
“Now we get serious.” He held her tight, moving out, and hammered back into her.
She’d thought she was done. Not even close. Hunger, edged with a pained demand, hit her so hot and so fast she could only hold on tight. He pounded into her, showing no mercy, a dangerous predator fully unleashed. She kicked her other leg free and wrapped them around his waist, tilting her pelvis for more. God, so much more.
He f*cked her, hard and fast, his harsh breath panting in her ear. Each thrust jarred her clit, shooting lava across every nerve. The slap of flesh against flesh filled the tent, along with the overwhelming heat that was Daire Dunne. The thrusts increased in speed, and a galvanizing heat seared her, rippling into fire, as she exploded into a violent orgasm. It washed over her, cooling her, taking everything she had.
He stilled, ground against her, and came hard, his body shaking.
Finally, he rested against her. Her legs dropped to the ground. Still inside her, he reached around and drew the bag over them. “Now you talk.”
She shut her eyes, her body too damn relaxed to drum up the energy to fight.
A ripple sounded through the night. Then a piercing light shone down, even through the tent.
“Damn it.” Daire withdrew and shoved his way out of the bag, tossing the sweater at her. “Get dressed.” Helicopter blades pounded through the weakening storm outside.
She shrugged into the sweater and stood. “You’re naked.”
“If it’s my brother, he’s seen me nude before. If not, we’re in a shitload of trouble, and my bare skin is the least of our worries.” He unzipped the tent and peered out, turning back to pin her with a dark green gaze. “It’s Adam, which is good news. Don’t think for a second our conversation isn’t going to happen. You have a reprieve, baby. Take it and get ready to tell all.”
Daire kept one eye on Cee Cee and the other on the papers spread out in front of him on the table. The plane was small, with a green sofa along the back wall, a bathroom behind that, and four chairs around a table. The carpet was an odd yellow with blue dots. “Finish that steak,” he ordered, ducking his head to read another printout. He waited until she rolled her eyes. “I saw that,” he said slowly. Things had changed, whether she liked it or not.
She blinked, and color slipped into her cheeks. But she took another bite of the meat from her perch on the sofa.
Adam had quickly flown them via helicopter to the mainland, shepherded them into the plane, and cooked steaks in the microwave. Now he sat across from Daire, curiosity bright in his eyes, as the pilots flew them through the Arctic storm to refuel in Greenland. Then they’d jump over Alaska, head south, and land in Seattle. Adam had followed orders perfectly by bringing both food and clothing.
The wool sweater and faded jeans had pleased Daire greatly, and the darker jeans and blue sweater fit Cee Cee well enough. The denim stretched nicely across her rounded rear, and he wanted nothing more than to strip her out of them.