Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel #4)(87)

Muttering a curse to cover her disappointment and the fact that she felt like crying, she opened her eyes, more than ready to tell the jerk to stop playing games, and found herself staring up into glimmering red eyes of a man who looked like he was in hell.

It was also when she realized that she wasn’t the one trembling.

Chapter 37

“I can’t do this,” he said in a strangled whisper, averting his eyes in shame as he moved to climb off her.

He forced himself to ignore the way her core gripped him tightly, refusing to let him go and the way that it felt to glide out of her, her warm juices coating every last inch of him, tempting him to slide back in for more, but he couldn’t, not without scaring her. He’d f**ked up. Christ, had he f**ked up. He should have known better, did know better, but his brain didn’t seem to work, not around Cloe.

She made him want things that he couldn’t have, shouldn’t want. He’d spent his entire life watching over his sister, protecting her and agonizing over her happiness. He would always love her and miss her, but after ninety years of playing protector, he should want his freedom and be willing to do anything to have it. Instead he was here, in bed with this beautiful woman that drove him out of his f**king mind, pretending that he could be something that she needed. He was obviously delusional and he would be paying for this mistake for the rest of his life.

Great, just what he needed, he mused, shaking his head in disgust, another f**king Kodak moment.

“Why not?” Cloe asked, reaching out to stop him, but he moved out of her reach, refusing to prolong this torture for another second longer.

“Sex doesn’t work for me,” he said, a f**king understatement.

He should have learned his lesson years ago in that cage, but obviously he hadn’t. He always let his dick convince him that he could handle it now that he was older, more in control, but it was always a bullshit lie that he told himself so that he could take what he wanted. He thought he’d learned his lesson forty years ago, but that first glimpse of Cloe in the pharmacy had him forgetting what he was capable of and had him panting after her like a teenage boy with his first hard on.

“Because……?” she asked, stretching out the word as she sat up, following his retreat.

“Just because,” he said, shaking his head in disgust at himself for being so f**king stupid.

He’d enjoyed touching her, loved it and would gladly give up his soul to do it again, but now he knew what he was missing. His c**k ached so badly, every movement sending sharp pain up his shaft and quickly making breathing a thing of the past. A cold shower wouldn’t help, he realized with a wince as he slowly made his way off the bed. The only thing that would help would be taking himself in hand, and with Cloe cursed with his condition, she’d know what he was doing. It was no doubt going to piss her off to know that he’d rather take himself in hand than finish with her, but right now he didn’t have a choice if he-

A grunt escaped him as he suddenly found himself shoved back down on the bed and Cloe on top of him, pinning him down.

“Get off,” he said, his hands clenching into fists as he forced his arms to remain where they were, afraid that if he touched her again that he’d lose control and f**k the life out of her. Not that Cloe could die, but he’d do enough damage to make the night he’d attacked her seem like a fun-filled day at Disneyworld.

He couldn’t do that to her, no matter how badly his body ached to be back inside her.

She cocked her head to the side as she looked down, studying him with open curiosity before she shook her head. “No,” she said, sighing heavily as she leaned forward, entwined their hands together and leaned back down until the tip of his cock, desperate to get back inside of her, was brushing up against her stomach just above where the hair that protected her sex began, “I don’t think I will. At least not until you explain why you keep playing with me.”

“I’m not playing with you,” he bit out, moving to pull his hands away from her and risk touching her when she shook her head and gave his hands a gentle squeeze in warning.

“Yeah, you really are and I’d like to know why,” she said, shifting over him so that the underside of the tip of his c**k brushed up harder against the smooth warm skin of her stomach, driving him out of his f**king mind.

“No,” he said through clenched teeth, deciding to put an end to this bullshit, “I’m not.”

“Really?” she asked, cocking a challenging brow as she abruptly released his hands, sat up and then-

“Oh, shit!”

Sat down on his lap, her wet warm pu**y landing right on top of the base of his cock. Locking eyes with him, she reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, giving it a squeeze. When she stroked him, he reached up, the broken links of his handcuffs clinking lightly against the cuffs as he reached out to stop her, but a warning squeeze around his c**k had him groaning long and loud and his hands dropping helplessly by his sides.

“So, then what are you doing?” she asked, stroking him as she pressed down, forcing the length of his c**k between her wet folds.

“Nothing,” he managed hoarsely, his eyes glued to the small tan hand wrapped around him.

“Nothing?” she murmured, watching him as she moved to grip him just beneath the head of his cock.

“Changed my mind,” he lied, licking his lips as he watched her tilt her hips, the move pressing her core and swollen cl*t right against him.