Page 33 of Kane (Ghost Ops #4)

Chapter Twenty-Three

For a man who’d been telling himself for months that Daphne was off limits, touching her for the first time had opened a floodgate of need inside.

Kane didn’t know where this aching desire was coming from, but suppressing it wasn’t an option. Not anymore.

He’d wanted so badly to put his arm across the back of her chair at dinner, the way Blaze, Seth, and Chance had with their women. He’d wanted to lean into her, whisper something in her ear, and have her laugh at a joke only they shared.

And he shouldn’t want that. It was self-destructive and unfair, because he was never going to be the kind of man who could relax into a relationship and think he’d found happiness forever and ever, amen.

Daphne and her friends were into reading romance novels where true love reigned.

Once the Fae prince—or whatever—chose you, you were together for life.

Yeah, it didn’t work that way. He knew from experience. He’d thought he had that with Hannah, but human beings were fallible and unbreakable bonds were fiction.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy himself when they were alone, though.

He unlocked her apartment door—it was definitely locked—and stepped inside first. He didn’t expect there to be anyone waiting, and there wasn’t. Daphne followed him in and closed the door.

He meant to be good and install the cameras, set up the system on her phone, show her how it worked, then strip those shorts off and bury himself inside her again.

Not what happened, though. The instant the door was closed, Kane dropped the duffel he’d been carrying and dragged her into his arms. Sitting beside her, touching her, smelling her, wanting her, had driven him crazy for the past couple of hours.

He wasn’t waiting a moment longer. Didn’t want to. Didn’t have to.

His mouth dropped to hers, his tongue spearing into her mouth, and all the tightness inside him eased.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he skimmed her body with his palms. He had her shorts off in moments.

He thought about freeing himself and taking her right there, against the door, but instead he picked her up and carried her to the kitchen island.

When he set her naked ass down on it, she swore at him. “Fuck, Kane, this granite is cold .”

“Gonna fix that, babe,” he said, pushing her knees apart and dropping to slide his tongue into that heavenly space between her legs.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, fisting her fingers in his hair and holding him against her.

He put her legs over his shoulders and then tasted her thoroughly, stroking his tongue into sensitive places, toying with pressure and technique.

Daphne squirmed beneath him, having given up holding his head and fallen backward onto the island, her entire body laid out before him like a gorgeous feast.

He took full advantage, tasting her, driving her wild as her body trembled and soft moans issued from her throat. Then he added two fingers to the mix, sliding them into her slick, smooth channel, pressing deep and crooking them to apply pressure inside.

If her sharp cry hadn’t alerted him to the orgasm slamming into her, the way her pussy clamped down on his fingers would have. Her walls rippled around him, her body trembling harder than before.

“Kane,” she moaned, her body still coming apart.

His dick was hard, throbbing, aching to be inside her, but he made himself wait. He needed her to come again, to listen to the beautiful sound of his name on her lips when she did. He wanted to take his time with her, stoke her passion, make her so hot she pleaded with him to let her come.

He did none of those things. He didn’t do them because he had a sudden realization there was no patience, no waiting. Not with her.

He freed his cock, positioned himself, and slammed home.

A groan escaped him when he was seated to the hilt inside her.

Her legs wrapped around him, anchoring him.

His heart throbbed a million miles an hour as he gazed down at the woman on the island.

Her red hair spilled over the granite and her skin was rosy.

He unbuttoned her shirt and tugged her bra cups down to reveal her nipples so he could suck them while he pumped into her.

It didn’t take long before she was moaning again, before her walls clamped down on him. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, tugging firmly, and Daphne imploded with another sharp cry, her legs tightening around him. Not enough to stop him from moving, though.

He loved the way she felt surrounding him, the silky softness of her walls. It’d been years since he’d gone bare inside a woman. Maybe he shouldn’t have done it with her, but when she’d said she had an IUD, he’d wanted nothing more than to be inside her with nothing between them.

Maybe that’s what made the sex with her feel so fucking fantastic. It wasn’t the same with her as it’d been with others. It was something more.

He shook his head to clear it. It couldn’t be more. Sex was sex.

Still, his brain insisted this was different. Better. More intense.

He bent to kiss her, to quiet the chaos in his head. Her tongue speared into his mouth, her fingers raking his shoulders, and his balls tightened. He could hold off, quiet the churning, build up again slowly. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel everything now.

He cupped her ass with one hand, angled his hips, and drove himself home. Electricity sizzled through him, his release exploding as he pumped into her twice more, draining his balls and his strength as he came hard inside her.

He lay with his torso on hers, his cheek against her neck, breathing hard and feeling like he’d just done twenty miles in full pack. He was drained and energized at the same time. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her to her room, lay her on the bed, and cuddle up beside her for hours.

He didn’t do it, though. Instead, he kissed her again, then stood and pulled her upright on the island. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and he dropped his mouth to her collar bone, tasted the salt of her skin.

“Much as I’d like to stay right here, there’s work to do.”

“Mmm,” she said, stretching against him like a cat. “I suppose you have some screwing to do that doesn’t involve me.”

“True. But once it’s done, it’s done. Then I’ll focus on you again.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He stepped back and tucked himself away, zipped his jeans.

Daphne hopped down and strolled toward her bedroom, her ass bare.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away until she was out of sight.

Then he sighed, shook his head as if to ask what he’d gotten himself into, and went to retrieve the duffel he’d dropped.

Something slid across the floor when he picked the bag up.

He frowned as he bent to pick it up. It was a playing card, ornate, with a two-headed queen and a diamond. It wasn’t the typical playing card from a box store pack, but a version he’d never seen before. He turned it over. The back design was black with a fleur-de-lis in gold.

Daphne strolled back into the open living area wearing jeans this time, her shirt buttoned and tied in a knot at her waist. Her red hair was loose and flowing and she had a smile on her face that made his heart squeeze.

“You lose a playing card, babe?” he asked her as she approached.

The smile faded, replaced by a wary look. “What? No. Why?”

He held up the card. “This was on the floor near the door.”

All the color drained from her face. He moved to steady her before she fainted. Not that he knew she would, but with the way the blood left her face, he had no doubt it’d made her light-headed. He steered her to the nearest chair and sat her down on it.

He placed the card on the table beside her. She stared at it but didn’t touch it. A tear slid down her cheek before she raised her head to gaze at him.

“I’m sorry, Kane. So sorry. B-but I need your help one more time.” She swallowed, clasped her shaking hands in her lap. “I need to leave town. Now.”