Her legs trembled, and her fingers twisted and yanked his hair. The attack of his teeth and tongue sent her soaring with weightless wings, the release spinning her out of control, her back arching and her toes curling.
When she landed, he caught her, shifting them to their sides, face-to-face. He pulled her thigh over his hip, his cock nudging her opening. “Your * belongs to me. You're not allowed to insult it. Not in your head or otherwise.”
“Okay.” She smiled, and it must've looked as loopy and satisfied as she felt.
With a finger gliding around the tip of his shaft and spreading her open, he worked himself in. His hand flew to the back of her head, and he groaned into her hair as he thrust.
The invasion was full and snug, every inch of him warming and stroking her insides. Her muscles contracted around him, all thought, all feeling, centered on where they were joined. He pumped faster, pulling her head back by her hair and taking her mouth. My God, the man could kiss. She could come just from the slide of his tongue.
She opened her eyes and found him watching her with affection and a thrilling amount of lust. He hadn't grown bored with her. He wanted this. He wanted her. Not Liv.
As he began to plow into her with intoxicating roughness, she returned to his mouth, biting his lips, her fingers tracing the ridges of flexing muscle along his torso. He slammed into her, grinding against her clit, and pulled out in long strokes, repeatedly, pushing her to the edge, teetering...
He rolled her from her side to her back and deepened the thrusts. His head dropped to the pillow, his softly-shaven cheek rubbing against hers, his breaths sharpening. “Fuck, Amber. So fucking close. You need to come.”
She clutched his ass and clamped down around his driving length. Four more grinding rotations, and she let go. “Aaaagggh, God, I'm coming.” As strong as the first, the surge lifted and carried her through waves of drugging pleasure.
His hips jerked. “Fuck.” He buried his face in her neck, his palm covering the side of her head, his powerful body trembling through jerky thrusts. “Fuck. Me, too. Fuuuuck.”
She held him tight as he fell apart above her, his weight a crushing security and his groans quenching her undying need for his appreciation.
As his muscles relaxed and his cock pulsed inside her, a voice whispered at the back of her head. “Van? The condom?”
He barked out a laugh and rolled to his back, taking her with him and slipping out of her, his seed smearing against her thigh. “Little late for that, babe.” He reached between them, swiping a finger through the mess on her leg and sliding it into her mouth. The clean salty flavor mingled with his saliva as he kissed her slow and lazily. He leaned back, grinning.
She pinched his ass. “You have a semen fetish.”
“I like the way it tastes on our lips, and so do you.” He kissed her again. “The test results came back today. You're clean.”
She relaxed against him, draped over his body, her cheek on his chest, smiling happily. Not that she'd worried about STDs, but he'd put her on the pill when she arrived—using a no script online pharmacy—and she hadn't had sex without a condom since she'd been married. “No wonder that felt so good.”
“Mm.” He stroked her hair with one hand and cupped her ass with the other. “I went to Brent and Tawny's house tonight.”
Fucking whiplash. She jerked back and collided with his unreadable gaze. “Why?”
He forced her face back to his chest with a strong hand and held her in place. “I drove there to kill him. Decided not to.”
Her heart raced. She hadn't even considered the possibility. “You're not a murderer.”
A heavy sigh expanded his ribs, and his thumb drew restless circles over her jaw where he held her against him. “A year ago, Liv was brutally raped by a slave buyer. I felt responsible because I'd sent her to him fully fucking aware of what kind of monster he was. When I found out, I shot his wife just to torture him. Then I...” He exhaled. “You don't need to hear the details. I killed him.”
Torture. Van had no doubt brought unholy vengeance on that man. His breathing labored, and his hand loosened on her head. She rose up and searched the hard lines of his face. No remorse or horror painted in those lethal features.
“Protective till the end,” she whispered.
“The very end, in fact. I packed up after that to leave the operation for good.”
“But Liv shot you before you got out?”
He twined their legs together. “Yeah.”
“Your avenging-murder days are over?”
“We’ll see.”
Right. If someone harmed her, all bets were off. The thought filled her with a selfish kind of comfort. She slid a toe up and down his calf. “You're not going to rehang the drapes, are you?”
He laughed. “Nope.”