Page 11 of No Lies No Promises

His flat tongue on my nub is all it takes. The intense bliss hits me so hard, I lose myself in some kind of out-of-body experience.

Strong arms lift me by the waist, then drag my sensitive, wet inner core past his chest to his navel.

“Ride me, babe.” He pumps his cock and places it at my entrance.

I sink. He arches. Bone hits bone.

“Yesss!” There’s pain, but mostly pleasure.

Clutching my thighs, he bucks while I ride.

Skin slaps skin. Faster and faster, I’m mindless until every muscle in my body clenches.

“So. Close.” I gasp between breaths.

If the first orgasm didn’t kill me, this one will.

A final thrust blasts me higher into space, beyond our universe, where milky stars explode behind my eyelids.

While I drift back, he slides out. “All fours, babe.”

Standing on the side of the bed, he clutches my hips and races to his finish line. With one last powerful pump, he releases inside me. Shouting, he thrusts two more times, then flops onto the bed next to me.

For the longest while we lay there. Me splayed out. Him on his side. Both of us gone, God knows where.

Later, back in my body, I turn my head. “Your leg? Are the stitches still intact?”

“Mmm. What leg?” He rolls onto his back.

“The one with the bloody bandage.”

“I’ll check it in a few. I promise.”

Cupping his rough, unshaven cheeks, I slow-kiss him, tasting myself on his lips until my cheek drops to his chest. With his steady heartbeat in my ear, I follow him into sleep.

When a knock at the door wakes me, I yawn and turn, only to find the other side of the bed empty. In the kitchen, after Sean says thank you, a paper bag rustles, spicy Chinese takeout drifting into the bedroom. One minute my stomach growls and the next, I’m starving.

As I’m rummaging through my dresser for clean clothes, his cell phone rings.

At first he mumbles, then he turns up the volume. “Brother, I need her safe. Fire her. Bench her. Do something.”

No freaking way. By the time I get to the kitchen, his tone has returned to normal. “Uh-huh… You’re probably right. Okay. I will for now, but if something else happens, we agree, yes? Thanks. I will.”

Back to me, he chuckles. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Later. Over.”

When he turns around, I get up in his face. “Did you tell Dante to can me?”

“Uh, yeah. I did. Somebody tried to blow us up, Lilly.” I assumed he’d deny or apologize. Instead, he shoots me his maddening, bossy, Marine scowl—the one I absolutely hate.

“Honestly, if you weren’t wounded already, I’d kick the crap out of you.” My finger stabs his sternum. “My job. My life. You don’t get to decide.”

“Sure I do.”

My mouth drops. I was expecting lots of things. Arguing. Deflecting. Perhaps groveling, but not this.

“What the hell, Big Balls?” I jab again. “What did Dante say about it?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘If I want to keep my woman, I should stop being an asshole.’”