Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(76)

Striker was shaken by the very thought that he had any feelings for Margo beyond what was necessary to do his job. He could try fighting it, blow off his concerns, find a solution to the madness or accept things as they were. But he knew the best thing was to deal with the issue of Margo and his feelings for her when he was in a better frame of mind. It had to be during a time when she wasn’t around to muddy the water, hold his thoughts captive or make him believe in things that he really shouldn’t.

He wouldn’t accept his love for her, regardless of how difficult that might be. When he got some distance between and could think more logically, things would be clearer. He was sure he’d gotten lust confused with love. That had to be it.

Satisfied with that supposition, he began moving inside her, loving the way it felt. He began growling deep in his throat with every single stroke. His eyes were glued to her face, watching her expression each and every time the hard length of him slid into her body and then out again, over and over in repetitive strokes. She couldn’t mask the unadulterated, raw emotions in the eyes staring unflinchingly back at him. It was a degree of desire and longing unlike anything he’d ever felt, and he was feeding off of it. It was driving his passion, his hunger, lust and need.

Suddenly, something shot through him, causing him to blink at the force that rushed even more powerful emotions through him. She said his name again, calling out to him in the most primitive way as if to beckon him to claim her as his. So he did. He leaned down and kissed her, needing his mouth to be joined with hers. Not wanting anything separating them. He wanted them to be joined from head to toe.

And when their lovemaking suddenly escalated to a fevered pitch, he felt her body shudder, almost uncontrollably, and he felt those tremors trigger his own orgasm. He blasted off inside of her, never wanting anything as much as he wanted to fill her with him at that moment. Wishing he could stay buried inside her forever this way.

He forced himself to snap out of those thoughts. Margo Connelly had somehow managed to wrap herself around him, every single inch, and right now he didn’t see a single thing he could do about it.

And he wouldn’t waste his time trying.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

A SHORT WHILE LATER, Margo could still feel every nerve-pulsing sensation flowing through her as she tightened her legs around his finger, which was embedded in her. He had done it again, triggering her orgasm into aftershocks that had her shuddering in pure, piercing passion. The kind that you couldn’t release until your body was ready to do so. His techniques in the bedroom were simply amazing. And she loved it.

Somehow he’d known when the last moan would flow from her breath, and his mouth was right there, capturing hers and kissing her with a need that mirrored her own as their tongues tangled greedily. She started moaning into his mouth as a spike of unrelenting desire began swirling around in her stomach.

He drew back from the kiss at the same time he withdrew his finger from inside her and, like before, she watched him lick the finger that was drenched with her juices. Then he pulled her tighter into his arms and held her, speaking to her in a soft voice, telling her how much he’d enjoyed her.

With all the strength she could muster, she lifted her hand to his cheek as her fingertips brushed across the sexy, dark stubble covering his chin.

Leaning down, he used the tip of his tongue to lick sweat from the side of her face before nibbling around her lips. She was amazed how much pleasure and passion he could generate, whether it was with his finger, tongue, hands or whatever he decided to use.

She would never forget the moment she’d felt his semen shoot into every part of her. It was the first time she’d made love to a man without any barrier between them, but for some reason, she had made the offer to Striker and he’d accepted. She had made the same offer to Scott, and he’d turned her down. At the time he’d all but accused her of having ulterior motives. As if she would deliberately set him up to be her baby daddy or something. She had found his way of thinking so ludicrous. That was the one time she’d come close to telling Scott that she didn’t need his money because she had enough of her own. And that having a baby with him was the last thing she’d want.

“Ready to go to sleep now?” Striker asked, intruding on her thoughts while running his fingers through her hair.

She should be ready, but a part of her felt too wired. Too aware of him in every single pore of her body, especially the heat of his skin touching hers. “Can we talk?”

She figured that was better than asking for them to make love again. She could feel the crackle of sexual energy that was always in the air whenever he was near.

“Just as long as it’s not about Siskin and Dylan. I’ve had enough of them for one day.”

So had she. Margo knew what she wanted to talk about, something she just had to know. “Why did Stonewall stab you? And if the two of you were in prison, then how did he get a knife anyway?”

Striker knew Margo wouldn’t let it go until he told her what she wanted to know. One day he would learn to keep his mouth shut around her...unless he was kissing her. He decided to give her the short version. “It was a butter knife from the kitchen.” No need to tell her that if the knife had hit its target and ruptured a vein, it would have been just as deadly as a butcher knife.

“Stonewall was already in prison when I got there. We clashed and over time became bitter enemies. One day things came to a head and we fought. End of story.”