Page 43 of The Sniper

“I want you, you asshole. I want your cock.” she gasped as the orgasm exploded deep inside her, sending pleasure straight into her brain as he helped her up and into his lap. She shook in his arms as he wrapped them around her.

Daniels waited, letting her settle, but she heard the satisfied groan he made. He lifted her off his lap, scooped up both Reyna and her clothing and cradling her in his arms, carried her to one of the safe rooms he knew was on the same floor. Closing the door behind them, he set her feet on the floor and bent her over the footboard of the bed. Reyna closed her eyes as he pulled his hips back just enough to unfasten his trousers. She didn’t protest when he pulled her hips back just enough to place his hard tip against her opening.

The moment he entered her, Reyna’s world narrowed to the raw intensity between the two of them. Here in this moment,there was no Rowe, no killer; there was just them. It was madness, this need to match his desperation with her own, to take whatever he offered and give just as fiercely. She pushed back against him, seeking more, each movement igniting sparks that danced through her system. The line between hatred and lust blurred until she couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other began, only that she craved the collision of both.

“You’re too beautiful for your own good,” he said, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned over her, thrusting harder and faster. His hands were unyielding on her hips, keeping her pinned in place.

“Too stubborn.” A grunt punctuated his next thrust, and Reyna could feel the vibration of it echoing through her. “Maybe now you’ll shut up and listen.”

“Fat chance,” she shot back, half breathless, but her voice was lost under the sound of his movements and her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. She was ready to snap back with more venom when he landed a hard smack to her ass.

“Enough,” he snarled.

She might have persisted except for his hand slipping beneath her to tease her clit. The sensation was unexpected, intense, sending a jolt straight through her.

“Please,” she begged. He reduced her to that, and she didn’t care.

All she wanted was more—more of his dominance, more of his discipline, more of him. She groaned into the bedding, her body language making it clear what it was she wanted more of. She writhed against him, her face pressing into the cool comforter, feeling the soft texture against her cheek.

Daniels seemed to understand. He pulled her hips back, angling into her deeper, and she nearly collapsed from the pleasure of it. She could hear his breathing, ragged and heavy, each soft exhalation like a whisper of the storm raging within.

And then it happened. All at once, like a dam bursting, she climaxed, her entire body tensing then quivering in his arms. Her muffled cry was buried in the bedding, and for a few blinding moments, there was nothing else in the world but Daniels and the overwhelming sensations crashing over her.

Daniels’s grip on her hip was iron, relentless as he pushed her harder into the footboard. The cool surface was a stark contrast to the heat between them. His movements grew more urgent, desperate even, as if he were trying to prove something, or perhaps lose himself completely.

“Reyna,” he growled low, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

She could feel him shaking—his cock swelling and beginning to twitch—the tremors that ran through his body now echoed in hers. And then, with a final thrust, he fell forward, groaning into her hair, his breath hot and ragged, his release pulsing deep within her. As she felt his cum splash inside the walls of her pussy, she was glad they both knew the other was free of any nasty illnesses, and that Reyna had been on birth control for many years. Club Southside had rules about that kind of thing.

As he pulled away, there was a rawness between them, something new that went beyond physical satisfaction. His touch lingered for a fraction too long, betraying a hesitation that didn’t fit with the man who always seemed so in control, as he stepped back and tucked his cock back into his trousers.

Reyna shook her head in disbelief. He’d just fucked her while she was completely naked, and he was fully clothed.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, almost to himself, as if he were surprised by his own words.

She straightened up, turned and faced him. Her grin was instinctive, a defense mechanism against the vulnerability that churned inside her.

“In your dreams, Daniels,” she said, her voice laced with challenge. “In your dreams.”

There was a flash of something in his eyes, anger, desire, maybe both, as he lifted her up and settled her in bed before stripping out of his clothes and joining her there. Reyna turned away from him, but he hooked his arm around her waist and dragged her back so that she was spooned against him. For a moment, she wondered if he might put her back over his knee. The thin line between defiance and something dangerously close to submission had definitely been crossed.

Enemies? Lovers? Or something in between? Whatever twisted game they were playing, it didn’t matter. In that charged silence, with her heart still racing, Reyna knew one thing for certain: this reckless dance between them was far from over.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DANIELS

The room was dark. Sated and happier than he’d been in a long time, he should have been sleeping like a baby, but Daniels knew better. He never slept easily. Not anymore.

Reyna lay beside him, her back pressed against his chest, her body warm and solid in his arms. The scent of her—clean, sharp, something uniquely Reyna—filled his senses as he inhaled against the soft skin of her neck. Even sleeping, she curled into him, seeking his presence, though she’d never admit she needed it.

Tonight had been too close.

The bandage on his side itched, the wound throbbing in a dull, persistent rhythm, but he ignored it. He’d had worse. The real wound was the one sitting between them—the sting of failure, the frustration of losing the killer again, the knowledge that Reyna was blaming herself.

He pressed his lips against the back of her neck, letting himself feel the steady rise and fall of her breath, the quiet rhythm of her heartbeat against his arm draped across her waist.

“You’re not asleep,” she murmured.

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