Page 71 of Once a Killer

She lay still and quiet, breathing him in, feeling his chest rise and fall against hers. Their conversation from the night before returned in a rush -- her telling him about being a sniper in the Marines. Telling him about Larrimore and his disgusting dealings with the Russians. About Cliff Kingsley, threatening her life if she told anyone what she’d seen.

Jameson hadn’t judged her. Hadn’t eased away from her. Instead, he’d gathered her close. Comforted her. Told her she’d been doing her job. That there was nothing she needed to feel guilty about.

She’d been watching him closely. She was certain he’d meant every word. Certain that he hadn’t judged her.

A wave of relief, giddy and powerful, rushed over her. He knew everything she’d done in Afghanistan, and instead of recoiling from her, he’d gathered her close. Praised her for what she’d done. How she’d saved her fellow soldiers.

And Bree was certain he’d meant it. She hadn’t heard any hesitation in his voice. Hadn’t seen any judgement in his expression. Even knowing all the shameful things she’d done, he still thought she was a hero rather than a disgrace.

She’d trusted him with the truth, and he hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t eased away from her. If anything, he’d held her more tightly.

Wriggling closer to him, she slid one of her legs between his. Pushed even closer, until she bumped into his morning wood.

She froze, but he didn’t wake up. So she relaxed and allowed herself to luxuriate in the pressure of his body against hers. Allowed herself to enjoy his hard muscles against her softer ones. All his harder parts against her softness.

She inhaled deeply, filling herself with his scent.

He’d told her he wanted her but hadn’t taken advantage of her vulnerability last night. Didn’t use the rawness of her emotions to overwhelm her. It was almost daylight, and she wanted him. Needed him more than she’d ever needed anything or anyone before.

So she slid her hand inside his boxer briefs. Curled her fingers around his hot, thick erection. Stroked a finger over his tip and shuddered when she felt the silky liquid collecting there.

She wanted to taste him. Take him into her mouth and feel his response. And she wanted to climb on top of him and feel him slide inside her.

Burrowing beneath the sheet and the duvet, she tossed them to the foot of the bed. Then eased his thick, hard length out of his boxer briefs. Slid lower and took him into her mouth.

She tasted the saltiness of the liquid collecting on the head of his cock. Swirled her tongue around the silky skin. Curled her fingers around his thick length.

She cupped his balls in her hand and licked them, too.

His sudden stillness, the tension in his body, told her Jameson was awake. She lifted her head and her gaze met his. “Oh, my God, Bree,” he whispered. He reached down and shoved his fingers through her hair. “Are you sure about this?”

“Does it feel as though I’mnotsure?” she said, holding his gaze while she took him into her mouth.

“God, Bree,” he said, his hand tightening in her hair. “I’m dreaming, right?” He sighed. “I love a good dream. Don’t wake me up.”

Releasing him with a pop, she said, “If you’re dreaming, I’m having the same dream.” She licked him one final time, smiling when he groaned. “You told me I had to make the first move. Was I too aggressive?”

“Oh, my God! No!” He put his hands beneath her arms and lifted her so she was on top of him. “I love that you took the first step. But I clearly have some catching up to do.”

He tugged at her tee shirt and ripped it over her head. Stared down at her, his hands sliding over her breasts. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Your skin is so smooth.” He lifted her higher and took one nipple in his mouth, sending sparks shooting through her. Making her moan. Writhe against him.

He set her on the bed beside him, then raised up on one arm to look down at her. “You’re beautiful. More beautiful than I imagined, and I imagined a lot.” He tugged on her nipples, then soothed them with his tongue. She squirmed on the bed beneath him, desperate to have him inside her, as need built inside her.

As if he read her mind, he tugged her pajama pants over her hips and down her legs. Swallowed as his hungry gaze swept over her. Finally he said, “Are you sure you want this, Bree? That’s it’s not just reaction to sharing your story?”

“God, no,” she said. “I want this as much as you do.”

“Thank God,” he said. He slid down beside her and spread her thighs. Ran his hand up the inside of one thigh. Down the other thigh. Stared at her for a long moment, then bent and put his mouth on her.

He nibbled. Licked. Sucked gently, until she was writhing beneath him. “I want to watch you come,” he murmured, combing his fingers through her hair. “Will you come for me, Bree?”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “Yes, please! Please, now!”

He put his tongue on her again and pressed hard against her clitoris. She grabbed his head as she bucked against him with a long, keening cry.

Her orgasm went on and on, and he enjoyed every moment of it. Finally, though, she grabbed his hand. “Condom. You have condoms, right?”

“I do,” he said, rolling over and opened the drawer beside the bed. The foil crinkled, and moments later he turned to her.

---