Margo smiled. Oh, she was definitely sure. And to show just how sure she was, the hand holding him began moving as she slowly began stroking him from the tip of the head all the way down to his balls. She did so while watching the play of emotions on his face. She loved seeing how his eyes would darken with each stroke, how his breath caught whenever her thumb rubbed over the smooth head, and the sound of his moan when her fingertips traced along the protruding veins.
She lowered her head and rubbed his thick shaft against her cheek, loving the feel of it sliding against her skin. When had she become so bold and naughty? And why did being so mischievous feel so good when the man was Striker? The same man who was capturing her heart even when he wasn’t trying to.
“You’re killing me, you know.”
The husky sound of Striker’s voice made her smile. Made her attuned to everything male about him. His scent. The sound of him breathing. His strength. But, most of all, his ability to be a total turn-on. “No, I didn’t know. In that case, I guess I need to put you out of your misery.”
With that said, she slid him between her lips, taking him into her mouth. She stared up and looked into his eyes, seeing the glaze of passion in their dark depths. If he only knew just how empowering his heated looks were. When she heard him groan her name, she became even more sexually charged. She continued to pay homage to this part of him, enjoying every minute. And if the moans that continued to flow from his lips were anything to go by, she believed he definitely appreciated her effort.
Wanting Striker was easy. Wanting to please him was a desire that seemed to be a part of her. She felt the tremors that began moving through his body as she worked her mouth over him. The moment he reached out and grabbed her hair, fisting several locks, she tightened her grip on him and felt emboldened.
She was determined that by the end of the night Striker would realize that when it came to pleasure, he wasn’t the only one who could dish it out.
*
STRIKER FELT HIS body beginning to shudder and knew he needed to end things. Margo might not realize just what she was in for if he didn’t. But for the life of him, he couldn’t. How could he when he was planted inside her mouth with her tongue stroking him, slowing and tantalizingly pushing him closer to the edge?
He intended to hold on to sanity as long as he could...but it wouldn’t be easy. Not when her mouth on him felt so damn good. And seeing her head bob up and down between his legs, while blowing him away, had him fighting back the urge to lift his hips and move in sync with the way her mouth was stroking him. The heat of her tongue was destroying his willpower, and a groan of pleasure rumbled in his chest.
And then it happened. He growled out a series of expressive words as a mirage of explosive sensations ricocheted through his body, nearly propelling him off the bed. Somehow she wouldn’t stop, didn’t let up as she drew the very essence of his being out of him and then worked her tongue over him, lapping up anything she might have missed. He began murmuring words, not certain just what those words were or if they made any sense. For him it didn’t matter. He’d just been given the blow of blows and his body was still reeling from the impact of what Margo had done.
Needing her with an urgency he felt in every part of his spent body, he reached down and gently cupped the back of her neck. He eased her up his body, fully aware that her tongue was now licking areas she passed along the way. And then with all the strength he could conjure, he switched their positions so she was on her back beneath him. He reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom packet.
“Striker?”
He paused and looked down at her. “Yes?”
“I’m on the pill, and I’m healthy. Unless you’re not, you don’t have to use one unless you really want to.”
He didn’t want to. The thought of not doing so, of being skin to skin with her, had him trembling inside. “I’m healthy, too, and as long as you’re comfortable with me not using a condom...”
“I’m comfortable with it,” she assured him.
Breathing heavily, he used his knee to ease her legs apart. He slid inside of her, loving the feel of his flesh touching hers. Pressing her into the bed as his weight bore down, he felt himself go to hilt. Lifting his head, he stared down at her while his heart raced a mile a minute. She looked up, returning his intense stare as her hands began softly stroking his back and shoulders. Her touch was sending him over the edge again as stirring sensations rejuvenated in his groin.
“Striker...”
Her inner muscles were clenching him tight, seemingly holding his shaft hostage. As far as he was concerned, that was an unnecessary move since he didn’t intend to go anywhere. He was perfectly satisfied to remain where he was for now. Striker inhaled deeply, absorbing Margo’s scent through his nostrils. Loving her aroma. Loving how she said his name whenever he was inside of her.
Loving her.
He went still when that thought flashed through his mind. He blinked and then stared back down at her. The woman beneath him. The woman whose body he was inside of. The woman whose life he’d been hired to protect. The woman who’d pushed it beyond that. The woman who had broken through all the blockades he’d erected.
Striker was shaken by the very thought that he had any feelings for Margo beyond what was necessary to do his job. He could try fighting it, blow off his concerns, find a solution to the madness or accept things as they were. But he knew the best thing was to deal with the issue of Margo and his feelings for her when he was in a better frame of mind. It had to be during a time when she wasn’t around to muddy the water, hold his thoughts captive or make him believe in things that he really shouldn’t.
He wouldn’t accept his love for her, regardless of how difficult that might be. When he got some distance between and could think more logically, things would be clearer. He was sure he’d gotten lust confused with love. That had to be it.
Satisfied with that supposition, he began moving inside her, loving the way it felt. He began growling deep in his throat with every single stroke. His eyes were glued to her face, watching her expression each and every time the hard length of him slid into her body and then out again, over and over in repetitive strokes. She couldn’t mask the unadulterated, raw emotions in the eyes staring unflinchingly back at him. It was a degree of desire and longing unlike anything he’d ever felt, and he was feeding off of it. It was driving his passion, his hunger, lust and need.
Suddenly, something shot through him, causing him to blink at the force that rushed even more powerful emotions through him. She said his name again, calling out to him in the most primitive way as if to beckon him to claim her as his. So he did. He leaned down and kissed her, needing his mouth to be joined with hers. Not wanting anything separating them. He wanted them to be joined from head to toe.
And when their lovemaking suddenly escalated to a fevered pitch, he felt her body shudder, almost uncontrollably, and he felt those tremors trigger his own orgasm. He blasted off inside of her, never wanting anything as much as he wanted to fill her with him at that moment. Wishing he could stay buried inside her forever this way.
He forced himself to snap out of those thoughts. Margo Connelly had somehow managed to wrap herself around him, every single inch, and right now he didn’t see a single thing he could do about it.
And he wouldn’t waste his time trying.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A SHORT WHILE LATER, Margo could still feel every nerve-pulsing sensation flowing through her as she tightened her legs around his finger, which was embedded in her. He had done it again, triggering her orgasm into aftershocks that had her shuddering in pure, piercing passion. The kind that you couldn’t release until your body was ready to do so. His techniques in the bedroom were simply amazing. And she loved it.