Page 96 of Lethal Vengeance

Firm lips take possession of mine, devouring them in a kiss I feel down to my core. A hand sweeps behind my neck to hold my head, while his other softly caresses my body. I groan. The butterfly touches are driving me crazy. I don’t care about the bruises. I need more.

My fingers unsnap his jeans, then push pants and briefs down to the floor. I walk him backwards until he’s sitting on the bed. He kicks off the rest of his clothes and reaches for me.

With a sigh, I sit on his lap and smooth back his long hair. His brown eyes are watching me with more than his usual intensity, and it drives me crazy. Hooking his hair behind his ears, I lean forward to lick and trace along the lines of his neck and along his jaw, needing to show the strong man in front of me how much his support has meant.

Beneath me, he hardens even further, and I arch back, fusing our bodies together.

“I love the way you feel against me,” I murmur, as the ache builds inside me. My body instinctively rubs against his, and my breath catches.

The hand on my back brings me forward until he can latch on to my breast, but instead of his usual dominance, he carefully licks and nibbles them.

I wrap my arms around his head and pull him tight. “Harder,” I breathe. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

The pressure increases, but no matter what I do, he refuses to let loose. Frustrated, I push him down to the bed. “Lie back.”

He chuckles. “Frustration makes you bossy.” With an impressive ab move, he lowers inch by inch until he’s lying in front of me.

His laugh changes my frustration to determination. I slide off his lap and bend over to kiss those abs I just admired. Tracing the lines with my tongue, I slide over each one until I’m right above the thing I desire the most—him. Taking him into my mouth, I pull out every trick I know to make him lose his control.

He groans, and I look up. His eyes are wide and gleaming with heat, while his hands grip the bed beside him. I lick around the rim and watch his breath rush out. He tastes so good. It makes me want to linger until I push him over the edge.

“Quinn, I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

When I continue to ignore him, he spears a hand into my hair and tugs me forward until I release him. “Please.”

Placing a knee on each side, I position him beneath me and sink down onto him. Our groan is almost simultaneous. For a second, I don’t move, content to look at him, but my body begins to make demands I can’t ignore. Rolling my hips, I get into rhythm, slow at first, but my need for him is like a fire rushing toward the only oxygen in the room, and I speed up.

His hands grip my hips and keep us aligned, allowing me to concentrate on our pace and the feel of him inside me as we race toward the edge. His hips start thrusting up when I come down, and the change in friction sends me over the edge. My muscles clench, and a wave of heat spreads from the center outward until even my toes tingle.

In one smooth move, he flips us, putting me on my back, to get the pace he needs to finish. His hips move quickly, and I moan at the feel of him pounding into me.

This is what I needed, to feel his possession, the edge of roughness in his desire. My body quickens again, and I reach down to touch myself.

His eyes follow the movement, and I feel him harden even more inside me. “I love to see you touch yourself.”

My body’s so sensitive, it doesn’t take much before I’m coming again. When he feels me tighten, he thrusts a few more times until his release hits. He shudders and drops down to his elbows.

When our breath eases and our racing hearts calm, he slides out.

“Damn it,” he murmurs. “I didn’t put on a condom.”

I lift a shoulder. “I’m clean. You’re the only man I’ve been with in years.”

With my statement, a strange look crosses his face. “I’m clean. Let me get you a washcloth.”

I expected him to ask me about birth control, but maybe my statement freaked him out. It’s the truth. Even before my sister disappeared, I was dating a few guys, but sleeping with none of them. Men weren’t a priority, only my career.

After washing off and using the restroom, I slide back into bed beside him.

He gently pulls me into his arms and runs his hand down my hair.

With a sigh, I drop into sleep. The whispers held at bay by the man at my side.

42

QUINN

Sophia is standing in front of me, pleading for me to help her, but I can’t. Hands are locked around my arms. I kick and fight but can never get to her. She disappears, and I look back. It’s Julio.