Into the Lair (Falcon Mercenary Group #2)(53)

He’d never been kissed so thoroughly by a woman. There was nothing inhibited about her, and he found it extremely arousing.

One hand left her breast and glided downward until he cupped the bandage over her wound. He held her gently to protect the area as she continued to ride him, but she wasn’t having it.

She grasped his wrist and dragged his hand back to her breast, moaning when his fingers stumbled over her nipple. Remembering the night before when she’d urged Ian to bite her, he gathered the taut point and pinched, lightly at first and then with more pressure.

She went liquid around his cock. Oh hell yeah, she liked the pain, needed it.

“Harder,” she panted.

He stared up at the hot-as-hell image she posed, head thrown back as she rode him with abandon, her br**sts spilling into his hands as he worked her ni**les with his fingers.

He pinned them both with his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed as she shuddered around his dick.

“I hope you’re close,” she said in a strained voice. “Because I’m so ready to come.”

“Then get there,” he ordered, his statement spilling out raw and demanding. His release was a razor’s edge, sharp and sliding closer.

He arched his hips, pounding into her as she fell to meet his thrusts. Her thighs gripped him as her hands came down to grasp at his shoulders.

He pulled mercilessly at her ni**les, leaving them red with his fingerprints. A harsh cry of pleasure tore from her mouth and then her body seized. Her pu**y rippled and contracted, spasming around his c**k like molten lava.

“Yeah, baby, like that. Come for me, Katie.”

His ass left the bed as he bowed and arched wildly. He exploded like a canon just as she dissolved around him. She fell, and he caught her, gentle even amidst their animalistic mating.

This time…this time he was the reason for her soft, sated sounds, and the sweet lethargy of her body. Pleasure that had nothing to do with the mind-blowing orgasm he’d just experienced rippled through his body.

She lay across his chest, limp and unresisting as he stroked her back.

“Should I get you drugs?” he asked wryly. “You’re hell on stitches, woman.”

She trembled slightly, and he couldn’t be sure if it was pleasure or pain making her shake. And he was loath to move enough to see. His fingers made slow circles on her back and shoulders. He slid them to her nape where he gently massaged.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “And cold.”

“It is pretty frigid in here. Either we don’t have a heater, or no one bothered to turn it on. There’s a fireplace in the living room. If you feel up to it we can go in there. I’ll build a fire and see about cooking up some grub.”

“Where’s Ian?” she asked as she pushed herself gingerly off his chest.

“Asleep on the couch.”

She glanced down to where their bodies were still joined. “Is this going to bother him?”

He curled a hand behind her neck and kissed her hard. When he pulled away, her eyes were slightly unfocused.

“I can’t answer that. But I can guarantee he won’t go off the deep end like your previous lover. One, he’d never hurt a woman, and two, he’s well aware that I’m as attracted to you as he is.”

“Guess we’ll go find out,” she whispered.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Katie showered with Braden, more in an effort to use their body heat to keep from freezing than a need for intimacy. The temperature had continued to drop in the cabin, which told her that there was probably heat at one time, and now there wasn’t.

Figured.

She stepped shivering from the tiny shower cubicle, hugging herself in an effort to get warm. Braden stepped out beside her and wrapped his big body around hers while he dried them both with his towel.

“Get dressed. I’ll go build a fire and then get started on the cooking,” he said as he arranged his towel over shoulders.

She watched as he walked naked from the bathroom. She absolutely loved his pale ass. His tan line stopped at his waist, and only a fine dusting of hair disturbed the lighter skin of his behind.

She’d have been disappointed if he turned out to be a pretty boy who sunbathed nude out of vanity. Of course Braden didn’t strike her as the type to sunbathe at all. And he certainly lacked the smooth, polished good looks of pretty boys like Paulo and Ricardo. Braden and Ian both were rugged. Not good-looking in a classical sense or even drop-dead GQ gorgeous. But she positively shivered each time she looked at them, even when they annoyed the piss out of her. They wore power like it was the most natural thing in the world, and they had an I-don’t-give-a-f*ck look that she found enormously appealing. Maybe it was because it was a sentiment she echoed.

She searched for clothes, and to her surprise discovered several pairs of jeans and sweaters in her size. Or close, anyway. And then she found a pair of boots just half a size larger than what she wore, and she nearly cried. Stupid to get so emotional over boots, but after going so long barefooted, she wanted to kiss the worn leather.

She pulled on heavy wool socks, delighting in the warmth they offered her freezing feet. Then she put on jeans and a sweater. For a moment, she considered the boots just for the luxury of having shoes, but she put them back down and padded out to the living room in her sock feet.

Ian was awake, though he didn’t look like he’d been that way for long. He sat on the couch a few feet away from the roaring fire, his hair rumpled, and a sleepy, disgruntled look on his face.