His smile stole her breath. Then he moved. Faster than she could track, he had her by the armpits and up in the air as he carried her toward the bedroom with such speed that her legs automatically wound around to clasp his rib cage. By the time she sucked in air to protest, her butt was on the bed, and he was flattening himself over her.
She struggled, her body on fire, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.
His mouth crushed hers, and she stilled.
Heat.
Fire.
True danger.
He held nothing back, kissing her hard, pressing her head into the comforter. His tongue worked hers, his powerful body plastered against hers, and his hands dug into her hair to hold her in place. Desire spun so quickly into need she couldn’t breathe, even when he wasn’t controlling her mouth.
She shifted against him, closing her eyes to kiss him back. This was what she’d wanted. All of this.
He nipped her lip, soothing the slight pain with another kiss. Then he traced along her jawline, kissing and nipping, finally reaching her earlobe, where he bit.
She arched against him, letting out a soft sigh.
“Anya.” His fingers tangled in her hair, and erotic pain tingled down her scalp. One of his strong arms slid around her waist and then down. His palm spread across her butt, and he ground her against his hard cock.
Pleasure swamped her, and mini explosions flew through her sex. The idea passed, somewhat fleetingly, that he wasn’t playing. Not at all.
Yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her knees widened, and she rubbed against him. “This feels real,” she whispered.
Heath fought to hold himself back and be gentle. Oh, the woman liked a bite with her kiss, but even so, she was damn breakable. At her sigh, his cock hardened, so full and ready that he might erupt. So much for soft and slow.
He’d go fast and then take his time with her later.
He could be fast and gentle. It might hurt him, but he’d do it for Anya. Keeping his mouth plastered to hers, enjoying the way she returned his kiss, he stripped her. The dress sparkled through the air before it hit the floor. Her tits sprang free, and the thought that she’d gone braless all night stirred him even more. He released her to look at her. Small breasts, tight abs, and a curvy ass.
He could get lost in her forever.
Where had that thought come from? Could they have a forever? If he beat Madison and Cobb, it was possible. But he had always been a realist, and his chances weren’t good—death or capture were definitely possible. As was running again, in case they regrouped.
Getting rid of useless thoughts, he shucked his own clothes, taking little care with the suit. It landed somewhere out of his way, which was all that mattered.
Her nipples were pink and tight . . . fuckin’ perfect. He leaned down and brushed his lips over them, and a gasp rolled from her lips. So honest and so true. For the first time in his life, he felt like himself. Like the man he could be.
This woman wouldn’t know how to be coy if her life depended on it. She was responsive and honest, and those traits alone wrapped around him and held tight. Her skin was like silk, and as she moved against him, he felt surrounded by softness. So sweet. So real. So his.
He propped himself up and cupped her breasts, wanting to study her but needing to get inside the wet heat rubbing against him. Pink filled her cheeks, and her pupils had widened, swallowing the green of her eyes. Need, desire, hope—all three flashed hot and bright in those stunning orbs.
He’d never wanted a woman more. “You’re everything, Anya. Everything good.”
Her expression, taut with need, smoothed out. “You are, Heath. I wish you believed that.” Her touch was sweet as she brushed back his hair.
Go slow. Be gentle. His hands kneaded her breasts, and his fingers plucked. She sucked in air as her eyes widened along with her thighs. Okay. Not too gentle.
The bruise from the night before still glowed on her skin, on her neck, and damn if that didn’t please him. If he truly made her his, he’d probably keep her marked at all time. Maybe on her thigh instead of her neck.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered, her hands sliding down his bare back.
“You don’t want to know.” The touch went deep inside him, where a part of her would always be. No matter what. He leaned down to lick her breasts again, taking his time and making her moan. Her breaths panted against him, and her fingers dug into his shoulder blades, causing a slight pain that only turned him on more.
She arched against him. “Now, Heath.”
Now would work. His teeth scored her skin, and he fought the urge to mark her breast. Instead, he fumbled in the nightstand and drew out protection, which he quickly rolled on. She was wet and ready against him. He levered up onto his knees, grabbed her ass, and drove into her as deep as he could go.
