Wicked and Dangerous

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Her blood boiled, burning away any semblance of pride. “Yes. Please. I do. Now.”

“Tell me you want me to fuck you until you can’t take a moment more.”

Even the image had her squirming beneath him and crying out again. “Yes!”

The word hadn’t even finished clearing her lips before he thrust deep inside her. She gasped. Her eyes went wide with panic and pain. She couldn’t take another inch of him.

Stiffening, Rachel tried discreetly to wriggle and displace him, put some distance between them.

“Does that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Shh. Relax.” He grabbed her hips in his hands, easing back. Rachel sighed in relief.

But he wasn’t absent for long. He only put enough distance between them to work a pair of fingers inside her and stretch her. His clever digits found a sensitive spot inside her, and she arched her back, spreading wide for him until she accommodated another finger. Then another.

When she was mewling, Decker withdrew, then nudged his staff against her opening again.

His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing. “Now you should be more comfortable. Tell me if you’re not, and I’ll work you open slowly. But you won’t get away from me, Rachel.”

As if she wanted to . . .

Then he reared back and thrust into her roughly, deeper, working against the swollen, constricting flesh of her sex. But his fingers had worked some magic. The discomfort was gone.

He groaned. “That’s right. That’s good. Let me in.”

Wasn’t he already in?

Lifting her hips up to him, Decker pressed down into her body with another shallow stroke. Then he withdrew slowly. The friction of his flesh over nerve endings she hadn’t known she possessed caused her to cry out.

“I’m getting deeper, beautiful. Yes . . . You’re so sweet and tight. I’m going to make you come for me. You want that. I want to feel it. Just take all of me.”

She still hadn’t?

Rachel moaned. Decker ground into her clit again with his hard length, then shifted down, rooting at her opening once more. With one heavy push, he grunted, then seared his way into her body, up, up, up, filling every corner and recess of her with his thick possession, stretching her almost beyond her limit.

Mercy . . .

He rubbed a sensitive spot so deep inside her that Rachel felt herself swell even more. He drew back and kindled all those nerves again. And again. The flames licking her body turned incendiary. She bucked under him, cried out for him, clenched her fists and begged. His bared teeth and determined face told her that nothing would stop him from giving this pleasure to her.

Holy cow! Rachel had known he would be every bit as good as her fantasies, but never had she imagined this sort of ecstasy.

Relentlessly, he pushed in and out of her, hitting that spot so deep and shocking with every last plunge. She closed her eyes, struggling to breathe. Her thighs tightened. She wanted her arms around him, but he held her pinned to the bed and drove into her again and again.

“Open your eyes.”

She squeezed them even more tightly shut, so focused on the sensations that stacked on top of her restraint, crushing it. Her clit burned. He shocked the end of her passage with every forceful thrust.

“Fucking open your eyes and look at me.”

Something about his deep growl forced her to obey. His face hovered just above hers, and he fused their stares together. A jolt, a zing, an electric sizzle—they lit her up. The forces in her body swirled together, spinning faster and faster, taking her down with them like a whirlpool sucking away her ability to breathe, to care about anything but the ecstasy about to sear across her soul.

“Decker,” she whispered almost soundlessly, out of breath.

Using all the power of his muscled arms and thighs, he fucked his way even harder inside her. His stare penetrated deeper. This didn’t feel like a one-night stand. Decker utterly possessed her, from their linked fingers above her head, to their locked stares, all the way to their joined bodies.

The uproar of tingles and aches throbbing with need all compounded to overload her, but they had nothing on the sudden fervor that seized her heart.

All the sensations inside her melded, conjoined, rose dangerously. Then her body combusted. Her sex clamped down on him, womb clenching, as pleasure spilled over in a lush melding of wonder, ecstasy, and thrill.

Above her, Decker pounded into her mercilessly, jaw tensing, eyes raging, breath sawing in and out of his chest with effort, with excitement. He crushed her lips under his own and gripped her hands fiercely. Then his entire body tensed as he submerged himself completely inside her, setting off another storm of astonishing pleasure. As she screamed into his kiss and held on for dear life, Rachel wondered if she’d be able to forget this night or this man—ever.

FIVE

TEN MINUTES LATER, RACHEL WAS CURLED AGAINST HIS SIDE, hand brushing up and down his chest. The room was still mostly dark, broken only by a nightlight coming from the bathroom and a twinkle from the silvery moon streaming through the window. He’d disposed of the condom and caught his breath. Even on the comfy mattress wrapped in soft sheets and what had to be homemade quilts, Decker couldn’t relax. His brain wouldn’t downshift to a gear other than sex. Over and over, one thought plagued his head: What the hell had happened between them?

They hadn’t just fucked. She hadn’t merely been aroused. He hadn’t simply wanted her. What they’d done here had been . . . something more.

That made no fucking sense. He didn’t really know this girl. But the very first time he’d clapped eyes on her picture had been a visceral blow to his chest. Touching her shook him even more. Filling her tight cunt had been absolutely earthshaking. Despite an orgasm that had all but fractured his restraint and sent him rocketing into a pleasure so surreal, he still felt stunned and dazed; he still hadn’t managed to unleash all the lust broiling inside him.

It didn’t add up. She wouldn’t be capable of the same sexual gymnastics as that girl from Moscow. She’d never be as freaky as those twins from Mexico City. She probably didn’t give a mind-bending blow job like the show dancer he’d hooked up with in Rio. But Rachel had something none of those women possessed, a quality he couldn’t put his finger on that made him want to bury his cock inside her again and stay for a sweet long while. She drew him in. He liked her mix of vulnerability and sweet teasing. Her intelligence probably ranked higher than most women he’d taken to bed. The soft chime of her laughter made him smile. She was truly a terrible dancer, but she cared about the people in her life. And she trusted in a way none of the jaded women he’d met could. Hell, more than he ever had. She deserved to be protected, adored, cherished.

How fucking crazy was it that he was wondering if he could be the man for the job?

One thing at a time. First, he had to keep her safe, figure out who wanted her dead, then he could decide if he was actually capable of sharing his picket fence with any woman, let alone this one.

At his side, Rachel sighed, caressing him with a leisurely sweep of her hand up and down his torso. The thought of her drifting off in his arms made him smile. On the corner of the bed, the orange tabby yawned and looked at him like an unwelcome interloper. As far as Decker could tell, the cat had remained planted on his little corner of the mattress the whole time he and Rachel had rocked it. The hairball was seemingly far less annoyed that Decker had violated his mistress than he was about having his nocturnal beauty rest disturbed.

“Meow.” The cat’s tone made it clear he was registering a complaint.

Rachel smiled against Decker’s chest, then propped her chin on him to look at the cat. “Be a nice kitten,