Page 12 of I Dream of Danger (Ghost Ops #2)

His dick did not like the feel of his hand.

It knew precisely where it wanted to be, and it wasn’t in Nick’s fist, which is where it mainly was when he was in the boonies, training or on missions.

His fist just wouldn’t cut it when Elle’s pretty little sex was right there, open and glistening, just waiting for him.

He ran an experimental finger down her, just to test the waters, and an alarm bell rang in his head, loud enough to catch his attention even when there wasn’t much blood left in his head to think with.

She was wet, but not wet enough. Certainly not wet enough for him to slam into her as he had just been about to do.

Okay.

There was an app for that.

He dropped to one knee, leaned forward, heady from the scent of her, and placed his mouth between her legs. He didn’t kiss her, not yet. He just breathed her in. She smelled absolutely wonderful, of some scented soap with high notes of sex.

He’d once read an article in a magazine in the waiting room of the base dentist. Together with Field & Stream, the daily Stars and Stripes, and Guns Magazine, there was also a copy of Vogue.

The wait was long, and after reading the other stuff cover to cover, he finally started thumbing his way through Vogue.

There was an article on Noses, expert perfumers who were basically human bloodhounds.

He was interested because they’d just had a training session on how smells could give you away in an ambush situation.

‘Scent Management’ it had been called, and they were taught not to use soap or mouthwash or shampoo 48 hours before deploying.

So he’d read the article on how Noses could distinguish 1,000 scents.

Elle’s sex had a smell that was unique and it went straight to his dick.

She wasn’t ready yet, but soon.

He licked her and added taste. Oh God. She tasted delicious.

She sighed heavily, and he would have smiled if he hadn’t been so intent on licking her, tasting her.

He kissed the lips of her sex exactly as if they were her mouth, opening them with his mouth, licking deep inside her. With each stroke of his tongue, she gasped and when he felt her clench around his mouth he stood up and gazed at her.

Oh, yeah.

Her cheeks were deep pink, as were her hard little nipples. Her mouth looked swollen though he hadn’t kissed it yet.

He would.

She looked wanton, spread out on the dark wood of the dining table, pale and slender and so mouthwateringly delectable. He stood between her wide-open legs, enjoying the sight of her pretty little sex, pink and juicy. He ran an experimental finger around her and hummed a little. Mmm.

Yeah. She was ready.

Nick leaned down, placing one hand on the table next to Elle’s pale breast and the other holding her hip. He didn’t need to hold his dick for entry, it knew how to get where it wanted to go all on its own.

He slid into her slowly, the feeling so exquisite he closed his eyes until he was fully embedded inside her.

They both sighed.

His eyes snapped open. It would have been a funny moment, but he was beyond laughter, beyond even smiling.

He’d fucked way too many times to count, but right now, this was the most erotic scene he’d ever set eyes on.

Elle’s pale, soft skin contrasting with his rough, dark skin, her legs open to him, her pink sex clenched around his dick.

Elle’s eyes were half closed, only a shimmering pale blue showing. She was panting slightly, chest rising and falling.

Her arm reached out and wrapped itself around the arm he’d planted next to her, as if to brace herself. She seemed to sense the coming storm. “Nick,” she whispered. Her hand tightened on his arm.

It set him off.

Not holding himself inside her for a moment or two, letting her get used to him. Not a gentle in and out, testing her readiness. Nope.

A storm.

His hips slammed against hers with the full strength of his body.

He had to hold tightly to her hip or she would have slid to the other side of the table.

The room was filled with the sound of his heavy breathing and flesh slapping against flesh, and he was mesmerized by the sight of his dick moving in and out of her, fast and hard.

He couldn’t stop. There was no mechanism in him that would allow him to stop or even slow down.

He was overtaken by some power outside himself that wouldn’t—couldn’t—rest until he’d reached inside her just as far as he could go, over and over again.

And she was with him every step of the way, pale eyes on his, mouth open, bringing in air in great gulps, clinging to his arm, digging her short nails into his skin as hard as she could, fingertips turning white.

He didn’t feel it—he was beyond feeling anything but the enormous heat centered around his hips as he moved in her as strongly as he could.

Elle’s head moved back, exposing that long, white throat—and God, how he wished he were a vampire because he’d just sink his fangs into her—and she moaned then cried out.

Her stomach muscles pulled as she clenched around him so hard he felt her sex like a soft little vise, closing around him, letting go, closing…

The heat and the pressure were too much. He leaned forward, head hanging low, not even watching her anymore because everything in him was concentrated on where he was slamming into her, moving as deeply as he could, feeling those soft wet tissues pull him in even more tightly, faster and faster…

Until he exploded.

He couldn’t have stopped if someone had put a gun to his head.

A lightning-fast, white-hot line running down his spine, raising goose pimples everywhere, and he erupted inside her, holding himself tightly against her while he jetted endlessly in massive spurts to the tune of his heartbeat.

For so long he wondered dimly whether he was emptying out his heart and not just his dick.

It stopped eventually, as all storms do, and he came to, crouched over her, now resting on his forearm, head low over her stomach. He watched a big fat drop of sweat fall from his face onto her pale belly and quiver with her heartbeat.

Finally, he lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed, head turned slightly to the right, unmoving. She looked like she’d died and was this gorgeous, rosy corpse, completely wiped out.

“Oh no you don’t,” Nick growled, lifting his hand from her hip to turn her face to him. “Open those baby blues.”

Her eyelids flickered and opened slightly.

He tapped her face. “All the way.”

Her eyes opened wide, studying his features, then drifted closed.

No way. “You don’t get to zone out. Not an option. We’ve just started…you can’t quit on me now.”

The corners of her mouth lifted, breath coming out on a long soft exhale. “No energy,” she murmured. “Maybe later.”

He was buzzing with energy. “Nope. Not gonna let you. Here.”

Nick reached over to a big bowl filled with dark chocolate mousse. They’d never got round to it. In reaching for it, he pressed more tightly to her, even though he was only semi-hard. There was a serving spoon in the bowl, and he scooped up a dark frothy mass. It smelled wonderful.

He didn’t need to prop himself up any more so he snaked his other hand around her neck and lifted her head and shoulders off the table, holding the spoon to her mouth with the other hand. “Open up.”

She opened obediently, lips closing around the spoon, tongue licking her lips.

Oh God. He surged inside her, moving his hips against hers.

Elle sighed with pleasure.

“Another.” He pressed a huge spoonful of the chocolatey glop against her mouth and she obediently opened. “Another.”

With each mouthful he got harder. Any man would have to be dead and long buried not to get aroused at the sight of her closing her mouth around the mousse, then swallowing.

“Feeling more energetic?” Nick demanded, pulling almost all the way out then sliding back in. He was hard as a rock again.

Elle sighed.

Another stroke and her eyes opened. Oh yeah. She was feeling more energetic. But it was cold in the room.

Nick pulled her up in his arms and lifted her. Reflexively, Elle’s legs tightened around his waist. “We need the bed for this round.”

Elle sighed again, smiling, her breasts rubbing against his chest. “Okay.” She gestured gracefully with her slender arm at their clothes puddled on the ground. “We should pick those up.”

“Uh uh.” Nick started walking toward the staircase. Actually, he wanted to run up but he had his pride. “For what I’m planning, you won’t need any clothes.”