Bait & Switch (Alphas Undone #1)(21)

He was quiet for a moment. Then he reached over and placed his hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze. “Nothing’s going to get you.”

“No? Why not?” Hope blossomed in my chest, and I hung on to his every word like it was a lifeline.

“Because they’d have to get through me first. And that ain’t f*cking happening on my watch.”

My heart slammed against my chest and my breathing shallowed. Those were the best words on the planet; everything I’d longed to hear.

But I knew something he didn’t. Something that would make him put me on the first plane back home without even a good-bye. My secret had seemed too big and important to tell at the time, but now, I wished I’d just come clean from the beginning. Because I knew the truth would have to come out at some point, and by then, it would be a huge, ugly divide between us. An insurmountable lie of omission.

But Nolan didn’t press me, didn’t take me by the shoulders and demand answers like I expected. And his blind trust stung more than if he’d yelled and screamed in my face and demanded I come clean.

I waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t. Which was good, because I didn’t have the answers he needed.

Suddenly, he leaned over and seized my mouth in a possessive kiss. A whimper escaped me and my fingers dug into his shoulders. The kiss turned deep and molten, our tongues dueling for control. I wasn’t about to back down from this big, powerful man who held the promise of my entire future in his hands.

He hauled me across the front seat’s center console to straddle his lap. The massive bulge in his jeans was unmistakable. The man was hung, and apparently his cock was hungry. For me. I wanted to feel it in my hand, in my mouth . . .

“You taste so f*cking good.” He grunted, pushing up his erection to brush against my clit.

I groaned as his lips moved down the column of my throat and my hips circled just once, needing to feel the hard ridge of him. Pleasure and warmth ripped through me. Shit. I was quickly becoming addicted to this man.

Suddenly his hands were everywhere—my face, my neck, gripping my waist, caressing the underside of my breasts. Need unfurled inside me. Dying to feel his hands on my skin, I let out a frustrated groan.

“You still want to take this slow?” he asked, his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“Yes. I mean no,” I muttered.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest and I hated myself for that slip-up. But something inside me did need to take this slow. Despite my darker motivations, I didn’t think I could give myself to a man who was in another relationship.

“Tell me if I get too rough,” he breathed, his teeth lightly grazing my neck.

Those words sent twin bolts of hot fear and desire through me. His hands moved with grace, yet total control. He gripped both of my wrists in one hand while he devoured my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone. He was possessive in all the best ways.

With my hands pinned, I was immobile, only able to kiss him back and rub wantonly against him.

His free hand slipped up my side until he reached my chest. My breasts felt so full and achy, as if I could come from his touches there alone.

Nolan’s fingertips grazed my nipple, and even through my bra, the contact was enough to perk it right up. His hand cupped and massaged, and I lost myself in the pleasure.

His kisses were deep and penetrating. I felt them all the way down in my belly, my panties becoming wetter with each flick of his hot tongue. Blood thundering in my ears, I wanted time to stand still so this moment would never have to end.

Raw need stabbed at me. The desire to feel his body joined with mine, to feel him thrust deep inside me was nearly overwhelming. A ragged sob broke from my throat, and Nolan pulled away.

“You like my hands on you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” I panted out my response, unable to find the words to express just how very much I liked them. Rough. Calloused. Strong, yet so decisive in their movements.

He resumed his sensual assault, kissing and caressing me until I was a sopping-wet puddle of need.

My body bucked up and down on his, my clit begging for friction against his thick denim-covered cock. Feeling how virile and masculine he was made me forget about every silly worry I’d had before. I wanted the dark, rough ride he promised—as hard as he could dish it out.

Despite my best efforts, his military-inspired discipline shone through. He kissed hard, nipping at my lips, yet didn’t try to press me to take things further. But the rumble in his chest signaled he wasn’t immune to my movements against him.

A rough sound pushed past his lips, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.

I wanted to hear him make that sound again, and as often as possible. My movements grew frantic and, impossibly, I felt myself building toward climax. Even fully clothed, that didn’t stop him from nursing an orgasm from my body.

God, how good would it feel if we were naked?

“Let go, sweetheart,” he said softly against my neck.

Before I had a chance to ask him what he meant, he cupped both my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers, and I bucked wildly against him.

“Come for me,” he commanded again. “I want to watch those gorgeous sapphire eyes glaze over with lust.”

My body, having gotten the permission I didn’t know it needed, started the quick ascent to orgasm. My tender flesh throbbed, my clit pulsing in time with my rapid heartbeat.