Page 36 of Skull

Closing her eyes,her head fell back to give his mouth better access, as he clasped her on either side of her ribcage, arching her back so that her breasts thrust upward toward his face. She groaned in surrender, in anticipation of feeling his mouth on her. The wanting made her weak. The waiting made her bite her bottom lip.

This felt way too damn good to stop. His hand slid over her breasts, the slight roughness of his palms abrading the sensitive tips as he gently kneaded her flesh. The lazy friction of his thumbs swirling around her aureoles, rasping across her aching nubs, gentle at first, then harder, firmer, creating a firestorm of sensation that spiraled straight down to the pit of her stomach and lower.

Sliding her hand into his hair, she pulled his head down, silently begging him to take her into his mouth. Without further encouragement, he licked at her stiff nipples, a wet, velvet swipe of his tongue over each tender peak, tormenting and teasing her. The gentle scrape of his teeth was both sweet pleasure and exquisite pain. She was panting, and he was breathing just as hard. Hot, damp puffs of air caressed the tips, and the stubble on his jaw chafed her skin. When he finally sucked her deep into his mouth, the pleasure was so intense, her entire body shuddered, and she cried out.

Her response tore a groan out of him, too, and his mouth came back to hers in a desperate needy kiss that made her mind spin.

“Come for me, Walker.” He stroked between her legs, caressing her with slow, unhurried swipes meant to tease and build tension, cresting high and higher, hotter and hotter. One finger, then two pushed deep inside of her and that quickly, that easily, tremors shivered in aching waves. She moaned helplessly, incoherently. Her hands clutched his shoulders as her hips moved in time to the circling pressure of his thumb, and the driving forces of his fingers impaling her. She felt hot, needy as her climax built, those waves swamping her in exquisite pleasure so strong, she tossed her head back in utter abandon, her lips parting on a shocked gasp of breath as the force of her orgasm sent her over the top and into heaven.

“Cooper,” she whispered, his name tumbling from her lips. She shattered completely, blissfully.

She was still shuddering, still jerking against his hand and the oh-so-clever fingers he’d slid inside her, when he was already slipping them out, taking her mouth with his. “Let me in,” he breathed against her lips. The raw truth of it was she was craving the feel of him, filling her up, as she’d never craved anything before.

Then he was jerking her down on top of him. She pushed down as hard as she could, grinding on him, glorying in the long groan of satisfaction she wrenched from him as she clenched her still twitching muscles tightly around him and rode him hard.

His hands were on her hips, and with a low, rumbling growl that reverberated in his chest, he took her, groaning as she withdrew, and surged back again, her strokes lengthening, her pumping hips gaining momentum.

He reared up, pushed her to the floor, his thrusts grew urgent and demanding, and wholly primal. Friction, pressure, and heat fused together in a tangle of sensation, until her entire being was focused on the connection of their bodies, of the emotions swamping her at the impatient, restless need swelling within her.

Framing her face in his hands, he seized her mouth again, as if his next breath of air could only come from her. His kiss was deep and rapacious, and laced with a desperate kind of passion she could taste with every sweep of his tongue and feel in the aggressive way he possessed her body.

She slid her arms around him, flattened her hands on the firm, flexing muscles along his back, and held on for the deeply welcome ride. Before long, he dragged his mouth from hers and stared down at her, his breathing shallow as his climax washed over him, through him. Eyes closing in an ecstasy that was in every line of his face, he tossed his head back and arched against her hips, a helpless groan ripping from his throat as his flesh pulsed hot and hard inside her and he shuddered from the sheer force of his orgasm.

When it was over, he collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck while his heart beat strong and steady against her chest. She closed her eyes and held him close, reveling in the quiet, tender moment while it lasted, and how perfect and right it felt being with Cooper in his passion, in his need, and in his release.

No other man, all those nameless, faceless fucks, had ever made her feel this complete, this kind of intimate connection, this stunning shot to her heart.

Their breaths came in heavy pants, and she slowly became aware that she was damp and sweaty. The air inside the room had grown humid with their body heat. She half expected a chuckle from Skull, something to put the ferocity of what they’d just done in some kind of proper perspective.

Was it always going to be like this? They would soon be back outside the wire and too soon be right in the midst of tracking down their quarry. Of course, the danger and suspense certainly heightened their sensations, so there was that element as well, feeding into all this. None of which explained the burning sensation that gathered behind her tightly squeezed eyelids. Nor her reluctance to let him go, to look him in the eye and see quite clearly the man he was, a man she coveted, a man she could let down her guard with, open her heart, let him see her.

He was still holding on to her, his face buried in her hair, as if he wasn’t ready to let go, either. He’s still recovering, that’s all. Not that it mattered. She willed herself to move, to gather herself, put her head back in the appropriate place—on the job and keep it all in perspective, even though soothing him after the news of his father fulfilling something vital in her. To be there for him when no one had ever been there for her, not emotionally. She craved for him to see her when no one had ever really seen her, not even Eva.

But at the first hint of movement on her part, his arm tightened around her, his fingertips dug more deeply into her hair. So, she did what felt natural and right. She pressed her lips against the damp, heated skin of his neck, making her kiss sweet and gentle. And when she felt him kiss her hair, she kissed him again, drawing her mouth closer to the hard edge of his jaw, before nuzzling against his cheek, until he turned his face and met her lips with his own. They kissed softly, silently, reverently, every moment of which quenched her thirst for him in a way that the most intense orgasms could never hope to match.

“Walker,” he whispered, his voice deep, husky, overcome.

“I know,” she whispered, clutching him tightly. “I know.”

“Fuck,” Skull said, his voice raspy and sounding gruff as his cell chimed along with hers.

She did move then, but he captured her face between his palms, his weight pressing into her. His expression was as serious as she’d ever seen it, his gaze locked onto hers so intently it was as physical a connection as the kisses they’d just shared. There was a stunned silence between them, the power and essence of which she saw reflected in his gaze as well.

It was both a relief to know she wasn’t alone in reeling from the magnitude of what she’d felt had happened just now, even if she couldn’t define it, and a threat to her very protected heart. She had no idea what would happen between them. Her thoughts just couldn’t seem to extend beyond this powerful moment.

He said nothing, just held her gaze for the longest time. Then he took her hand and pulled it up to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles, opened her fingers all the while holding her gaze. Then he closed his eyes and kissed the center of her palm before curling her fingers—still damp from his mouth—over it. He wrapped his hand around hers as he looked down into her eyes, his own an almost impossible cinnamony brown through the fringe of his thick black-as-sin lashes.

“Trust this, Walker. It’s as real as it’s going to get.”

She was torn by the almost overwhelming instinct she felt to pull his hand up and give him the same gift, demand the same vow, startled by how strong the urge was to bind herself to him in such a significant way. Ultimately…she couldn’t. There was so much between them, but even more still left unsaid.

And if she couldn’t tell him the rest, then she had no business making promises. Of any kind. And yet she curled her fingers tightly into her palm, knowing he felt her do it. It was as much of a vow as she could make. That she did, indeed, want what he wanted. She just had to think about it, dissect it, make sure she wasn’t getting in over her head. It wasn’t fair to him right now, but again, this was so new to her, she had no idea how to act, no blueprint to consult, or plan to follow.

Cooper “Skull” Sullivan just quite simply discombobulated her, and it felt so goddamn good.

Skull stoodat the edge of the briefing room, his arms crossed over his chest. Walker hovered just to his left, the tension between them palpable. Bones, fed, freshly washed, and in a clean vest sat by his side. Kodiak had taken him after Skull had asked him to handle the MWD while he talked to his mom. The big guy had done a fine job.

The overhead light buzzed softly, casting harsh shadows against the dull gray walls. Seated around the conference table were GQ, Breakneck, Anna, and the rest of the team and CIA personnel, the air pulsing with tension. A large screen dominated the front of the room, the face of Commander Justin Bartholomew, flickered in and out with digital distortion, his uniform sharp and crisp despite the video compression. He’d replaced their deceased leader, Lieutenant Commander Terry Patchett, murdered by the cartel they thought they had dismantled.

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