Wicked Edge (Realm Enforcers, #2)(32)

She swallowed, her body tensing. “You’re not serious.”

Both eyebrows went up.

She held perfectly still. Her lungs compressed. Though she was trained, and she had power, she’d seen him fight. The man was made for it. “Listen, Enforcer. When I drugged you, I didn’t even know you.” They sure hadn’t been intimate before she’d tricked him. Then she caught herself. What in the heck was she doing, reasoning with him?

“Good point.” He leaned in, his eyes an inch away. “I’ve been inside you now, and you’ve moaned my name, so that changes things.”

“No.” Regret mingled with the desire blazing through her. “I’m sorry.” Because she did see him. No way, no way, would he allow a woman he cared about to fight to the possible death, which was something she had to do. It had to be her. Forget equality, forget feminism, he was an enforcer and a protector. He wouldn’t stand by as somebody he cared about walked into danger, and if they continued to be together, he’d care. Whether he knew it or not, he acted from the heart and not the head. “What we had was one night in a blizzard. That’s all.”

“Prove it.”

“Wh-what?” she breathed.

He closed the small distance between their faces, his breath stirring her lips. “Prove you don’t want me. You don’t want more.”

Her panties dampened. She was at a distinct disadvantage when it came to experience, and she knew it. Her mate had been her first and only, and he’d been more a gentle roll and sweet trust. Although Daire had definitely tried to be gentle, there was nothing sweet about him. He was all fire and storm, and a part of her, a female part she’d denied for so long, wanted to feel the bluster and ride the burn.

His nostrils flared, no doubt scenting her arousal. “Go ahead. Say it.”

Denying the obvious was silly. “You know I want you, but I have a job to do, and if we continue, you’ll just get in the way.”

“I’m in the way now, baby.” His lips took hers.

Sparks exploded in her blood, and her mind blanked. He worked her mouth, bending her back, forcing her sex against his hard cock. Demanding, even through the jeans, it jumped against her.

She couldn’t move. He held her right where he wanted her, their mouths fused, her legs spread, her butt on his hard thighs, her breasts flattened by his chest.

Yes, Yes, Yes. She kissed him back, her hands frantic on his flesh, her body alive.

Warning clanged in the back of her head, and she knew she was making a colossal mistake, but she didn’t care. Right now, in Daire’s arms, she just wanted more. Wanted to feel like a woman, alive and whole. He gave her that. Even so aroused she could barely think, she knew, deep down, that Daire gave her that sense of completeness.

He released her mouth so she could breathe and peppered hard kisses across her jaw and down her throat, tilting her down between his knees and toward the thick rug. She arched against him, the decadence of the position thrilling.

With the grace of any panther, while holding her aloft, he dropped to his knees and stretched them both out. The second his groin settled against hers, they both groaned.

He ripped her shirt over her head in one smooth motion, and then his mouth found her breasts. Nipping and suckling, licking and kissing, he hummed enjoyment as he made her writhe with need. Electricity charged from her nipples to her clit, whipping up a maelstrom of hunger she never could’ve imagined. “So much,” she gasped.

“Just wait.” Without missing a beat, he shoved off her yoga pants. Then, levering himself up on one elbow, he held his hand, palm down, over her breasts. Fire crackled.

She jumped.

He chuckled, the sound dark and aroused. “Don’t move.”

She sucked in air, her eyes widening.

Fire cascaded across his palm, dancing and threatening, primal in its beauty. He waited a beat, then another one, and finally lowered his hand.

The heat caressed across her, biting softly. The air whooshed out of her lungs, and she laughed.

He smiled. “You like fire.”

She loved fire. At the thought, she sobered.

“Nope. Stay with me.” He rolled off her, throwing his jeans aside with the movement, and then sat with his back to the couch. Grabbing her, he pulled her toward him.

Big. Huge. Way big. She couldn’t look away from his fully erect penis. “Um—”

Both of his hands at her hips lifted her, and her knees dropped to the sides of his thighs. “Take your time,” he ordered, sounding like he’d swallowed gravel. Sweat dotted his upper lip, and the muscles in his arms flexed as if he held himself back.

She pressed her hands against his rippling abdominal muscles and slowly lowered herself down. Several times she had to stop and breathe out, relax her body, in order to take all of him. Finally, her rear rested against his thighs. He filled her, and mini-explosions rocked rhythmically through her sex. “You’re big,” she said, and sighed.

He laughed and smoothed hair away from her face. “I like the sweet, honest side of you, Felicity.”

She tried not to wince. In less than an hour, he wasn’t going to like her at all.

His lips firmed. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it.”

It was too late. She caressed down his abs to his thighs and then tilted her butt and lifted up.

His sharp intake of breath spurred her on. So she did it again. Tension crackled around them. Every time she moved, he scraped against nerves inside her, sparking shards of raw pleasure to her clit. Although she wanted to go fast, wanted to reach that climax, torturing him held its own appeal. Having command over such a powerful being, such a deadly one, was better than any aphrodisiac.