CHAPTER TEN
Nick stared down at Sloane, her teal-green eyes edging more toward a deep pine, her hair a perfect mess across the sheets. Hints of red hued her cheeks, the shade matching her kiss-swollen lips.
She really was stunning, and not just on the outside.
The way she’d dropped everything when he’d sent out the ECHO — gone dark from the CIA — risking more than just her career, risking her life… He knew he’d never find someone who completed him the way she did.
Who he trusted with his heart, his soul.
Sloane bit her lip, and he realized he’d been lying on top of her, lost in thought while she’d been waiting for an answer. And by the way the light dimmed in her eyes, she wasn’t convinced he was on board.
That he didn’t believe in her the way she obviously believed him.
He tsked when she started to look away, capturing her mouth in a soul-searing kiss as he angled his hips, inched inside. Her breath left her on a long hiss, her head pressing into the mattress, exposing the sleek line of her neck.
He dipped down, sucked at her pulse point, grinning at the light blemish he left on her skin as he slid forward and bottomed out. “Did you honestly think I wasn’t all-in?”
She blinked, speared her fingers into his hair, pulled him down and kissed him as if she needed his air to breathe. Needed every inch of their bodies touching as he slowly withdrew, then thrust forward, reclaiming every lost inch.
Sloane arched against him, her chest rising frantically as she clung to him, fingers digging into his skin, her ankles hugging his back. “I… god, Nick.”
Hearing his name undid him. Wrecked him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Whether it was her voice or just the fact it was Sloane — the woman he’d been in love with for what seemed like forever — he wasn’t sure. He only knew that it squeezed his chest, had his heart racing to the point he thought it would just explode.
He lowered, kissing her, again, needing her taste, her touch as he set up a slow rhythm. She wrapped herself around him, meeting every teasing thrust, keeping his body locked to hers. A familiar pressure built along the base of his spine, threatening to drag him under with every stroke.
Either Sloane sensed the change, or it burned through him and into her because she inhaled, whispered, “More,” a moment before he levered up and picked up the pace.
Fast, then faster, until the bed frame kept time with the rain, tapping out a similar rhythm against the metal wall. Sloane followed him up, nipping at his chest, changing the angle. He must have hit that sweet spot because she stiffened, tipped her head back, eyes rolling slightly, body spasming.
He let loose, each punishing stroke shaking the bed harder as he pushed her higher — took her to the edge before stopping. Her eyelids flew open as he dipped his shoulder and exchanged places. Sloane inhaled as she loomed over him, her legs hugginghis hips, her hands braced on his chest, every damn inch still fully inside her. She glanced at his thigh and arched a brow, but he simply smiled, helped her ease up his length, then slide back down.
He gritted his teeth against the assault. She was too hot, too wet, and he knew he’d never get enough. Never love her enough to kick the need strumming through his veins.
That a lifetime wouldn’t come close to being enough.
Her mouth opened in a perfect O, sweat dotting her brow, a dreamy look in her eyes as she lifted, then dropped, pushing him so damn deep, light flashed behind his eyes. He palmed her thighs, kept her anchored as she set up a pace he knew would destroy what little sanity he had left.
Their ragged breathing filled the air, all that auburn hair bouncing around her like a fiery halo. She snagged her lip between her teeth, head tipping back as a strangled cry tore from her lips.
Nick pushed up, trapped her between his chest and thighs, her breath catching at the new position. She locked her gaze on his, still moving as he ran one hand across her jaw, speared his fingers through her hair — tugged until she responded with a guttural moan.
He added a sharp tilt of his hips, growling when she rasped his name. “Christ, Sloane, what you do to me.”
She closed the distance, kissed him until his lungs burned, all that heat in his spine tearing through his resolve. He took a chance, started thrusting from beneath, each stroke hitching her voice higher until she arched back over his thighs, trusting him to keep her from falling.
He cinched his hands around her waist, watched her tip over the edge, his name a rough plea as she spasmed around him, fingers digging into his shoulders. He lost it — started pushing up into her as he chased his release.
Sloane cried out, muscles clenching, her body squeezing him so damn tight, it took all his strength to keep moving. He thought about stopping — flipping her over, pounding into her from behind, but he was too far gone.
Too close to the edge to play.
He managed another few minutes before the blaze ignited, and everything exploded in a wash of bright light.
He gave in to the rush of heat, emptied inside her in a series of stabbing thrusts, finally collapsing into her arms once the fire had ebbed, left him drifting in a numbing haze. Her head fell forward, her face buried against his shoulder as they sat there, fully entwined, hearts racing.
The rain eased beyond the window, the waves still roaring against the cliff when Nick finally opened his eyes. Sloane curled into him, holding him tight, body shaking through her shuddering breaths.
He smoothed his fingers along her cheek, tilted her gaze to meet his. A few tears dotted her face, though he suspected they were the happy kind. A testament that he’d pushed her past her limits, the way she’d pushed him.
