Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)(66)

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

The spoon cracked against her flesh, bringing forth a rush of moisture between her legs. “I’ve made a study of your ass, sweet, and it’s not enough to say men want to f*ck you when they lay eyes on it. No. They want to rut. They want to take you on your hands and knees in the dirt, in front of their friends.” The spoon hit the floor, bringing Polly’s head up, but she had little time to prepare before he applied a condom dug from his pocket and drove his thick length inside her, robbing her of anything but the ability to scream. “Were you aware of that, Polly?” His words were growled into her hair. “Were you aware of men coveting you in such a way that I suffer, just watching you walk down the street?”

“No,” she croaked, reaching behind to grab his hip and urge him to move. Instead, he clasped her wrist and pinned it at the small of her back.

“You’ve attracted the scariest animal of all, haven’t you?” He reared back and gave her several rough thrusts, driving Polly to the brink. As if he sensed her impending climax, Austin slowed his movements. She began to protest until she felt his mouth lay a soft kiss at the center of her back. “You’ve attracted the kind of animal who won’t rest until he’s mated you for life.”

Her breath shook out, tears swimming in her vision. Austin slid his forearm beneath her belly, lifting her up and back against his damp, heaving chest, cradling her like a precious treasure. She felt his tongue and lips kissing her neck with such passionate focus, she went up on her toes to get closer, giving him the angle he needed to drive himself into her with measured pumps, hips rolling behind hers with breathtaking skill, his erection pushing deep, thick, deep. His arms were wrapped so tightly around Polly’s body, her breath escaped in hiccups that were echoed by his throaty groans. But she didn’t care about her lack of oxygen, because one big hand massaged its way down her stomach to tease her clit, stroking in time with their undulating bodies…and the storm broke. It didn’t crack like lightning this time, but was even more devastating, submerged as it was in honey. Release moved through her, rich and full, like a distant rumble of thunder. Her stomach and thighs shook uncontrollably, tiptoes straining to hold her weight on the floor.

And all the while, Austin’s voice in her ear praised her, prolonging the bliss. “That’s it. Milk it so tight. Buck your hips back a little so I hit that clit…ahhh, that’s how we do it. Make me feel those little clenches in my sleep. Make me crave more of that *. All day.”

The drain of tension was immense, but it didn’t last—not completely—because Austin hadn’t finished and she wanted him sated along with her. She pried his arms from around her body and dropped forward, bracing herself on the table and lifting her backside. “Take me, Austin. Use me.”

“Never. Never, Polly.” He pinned her to the table with a swift ramming of his hips, a broken sound passing his lips. “But I can’t…I can’t come slowly like you did. Not yet. The pleasure…it’s new to me. I think it might always be new to me—and you gave me that. You’re the only one.” His lips brushed over her shoulder. “Tell me you understand that when I f*ck you this hard, I’m cherishing you.”

“I understand,” she gasped when Austin started to drive home. Over and over. The table rocked and creaked beneath her, sweat dripping from her forehead onto its surface, whimpers and cries of ecstasy filling the room. She reached orgasm once more before Austin yanked her hips back, ground himself against her bottom, and came with a shout of her name.





Chapter Eighteen


Austin and Polly walked down North Rush Street side by side, holding hands. He would never get used to that. If he ever got used to Polly wanting to hold his hand, he would convince her to leave him, because she didn’t deserve someone who would take her for granted. The words “I love you” sat on his tongue like a chocolate coin, still wrapped in foil. Such sweetness existed inside, but there was a metallic taste because now wasn’t the time for professions of devotion. Not when Polly needed to be prepared for the unexpected. He needed her to be prepared, because he couldn’t be actively involved. Sidelined while his own con played out. While the love of his life made a deal with the very devil.

The Four Seasons got larger and brighter as they approached. Reitman would be inside by now, pretending to drink champagne, trading his full glass for an empty one every so often, staying sharp while everyone else’s senses dulled.

They were arriving late on purpose. Making an entrance. It was risky considering they weren’t invited, but important people never showed up on time. And tonight, they were the biggest game in town. Bowen, Sera, and Henrik were waiting for them a block from the venue, ready to go, if quite grudgingly. He’d managed to tear himself away from Polly long enough this afternoon for a conference call with his squad mates, reviewing details one by one until each step could be repeated in their sleep.

Some calls were made while Polly slept. He didn’t like having secrets between them, but in order for her to be convincing, they were necessary. He consoled himself with the personal vow that after tonight, he would never keep a single secret from her as long as he lived. Please God, let me have the opportunity to stick around and carry out that promise.

Austin looked down at Polly, trying not to make it obvious that he was memorizing every one of her beautiful features. “Red hair suits you, sweet, but if you don’t mind, we’ll be burning that sodding wig later. I don’t like changing any part of you.”