Hell yes.
My grin was wide as I snagged hold of his arm. “Lube,” I managed to grunt, despite struggling to contain my desire.
Swooping his jeans off the floor, he tugged a bottle out of his pocket. I raised my brows high, not even caring the action sliced pain through my head. “Came prepared. That’s a fucking fine quality in a man.”
His sexy smirk made my heart beat faster as he angled over me, sitting on my thighs. My smile dropped as I placed my shaky hands on his bare skin. We’d danced around this moment, fear holding me back, which was probably the same as his reasons.
When his gaze dropped to my lips, they tingled in anticipation, desperate for more. “We haven’t got much time.”
His eyes dilated at that, just as he wrapped his firm hand around me. My eyes rolled back in my head. There was a good chance this would impact my healing and I’d hurt like hell later, but there wasn’t a chance I couldn’t let this happen.
A slick coat was spread on me, Thatch’s hands sure and steady. Half-mast eyes peered down at me. “You want to do me?”
My lips quirked upwards. “Don’t I ever.”
His lips twitched as he squirted the lube on my waiting hand.
“Lift,” I instructed. He did so, and just as I edged closer and finally made contact to prepare him as fully as possible with the time ticking by too damn fast, his lips pressed against mine in a fervent kiss. There was no more time for words. Not holding back, my tongue worked in tandem with my fingers. Intoxicated by his taste, his proximity, the knowledge that any moment now, I’d be buried balls deep, I sucked on his tongue before breaking the kiss and squeezing his hips. “You ready?” I whispered, unsure how I’d keep from howling.
“So ready.” He took control as he held onto my wrists and positioned himself over me. Slowly easing down, his eyes remained on mine with a laser focus. I grunted as he exhaled and held back from thrusting up. Just as I thought I would explode from the need to be buried to the hilt, he bottomed out. Our groans came out in unison. I smiled, and he mirrored the action before he clasped my hands and rose off me.
Determined to keep my eyes on him, desperate to not miss a thing, I tried to absorb every sensation. The tightness, the rightness, the way a sweat bead formed on his brow and trickled down, all urged me to move. I could no longer remain still, needing to pick up the pace and drive him harder, bury myself in him so deep, there’d be no coming back from this for either of us.
If there was such a thing as a mate or fate, he’d be wrapped up so far in my fantasy, I’d be celebrating from the rooftops that he was mine. Instead, I had the way he clung to me, the way his heart picked up speed and settled at the same rate as mine.
That was enough.
Better than any damn fantasy.
Getting close, I slid one hand that gripped his hip to his pelvis. Heat and steel, a heady combination, felt perfect in my grip as I worked him.
Thatch grunted and whispered, “Harder.”
Both my hand and my hips moved double time, my aim to take him over the edge before I exploded and saw stars. My toes curled and I had no choice but to close my eyes as my orgasm slammed into me. Somehow managing to keep jacking him off, relief swelled through when his warm release covered my hand.
Shuddering beneath him, I pulled him towards me. He was already on his way. His mouth connected with mine before I could take a full breath. He angled away, and I opened my eyes. “If that doesn’t fix your head, nothing will.” His mouth quirked up at the sides, his eyes still half-mast, my own almost foggy in the wake of my orgasm.
I snorted, and he winced. Firm hands clamped down on me. “Don’t do that. Fuck, Callen, you’re going to break your dick off.”
Another snort followed. This time my shaking shoulders joined in as I laughed harder.
“Shit, fuck, stop.”
“I can’t help it.” I winced, despite my laughter. My flagging dick was far too sensitive to handle him still gripping me so tightly. “You need help getting up?” Genuine concern filled my question, but by Thatch’s scowl, it was clear my amusement covered it.
“Just stay still.”
I nodded, biting my lip and trying not to move a muscle. But bloody hell, the concentration on his face, the scent of sex and sweat and our combined essence had me twitching inside him.
Thatch’s brow shot high. “You’re serious?”
I risked a shrug.
“You wait till it’s my turn to top, wisearse.”
“It’s your arse—”
When his large hand covered my mouth, I stuck my tongue out and licked his palm. With a shake of his head, Thatch leaned down and removed his palm, planting a quick kiss on my mouth. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”
Contentment filtered through me, and I admitted, “Not when it comes to you, no.”
His eyes softened at my words, making my heart do a weird flip. Thatch was hard, serious, and kept his own counsel most of the time, but it was these growing moments when he let me in that had the power to bring me to my knees. “Come on,” he said quietly. “I can hear your niece almost pacing a hole in the floor a couple of rooms over. Any longer, and Koen’s just going to let her loose.”
That was enough incentive to get us both moving and back to the real world.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALL THE MERCENARIES WERE DEAD. Neil had been injured but was close to recovery, and Kent had sent in
