Page 6 of Stealthy Seduction
Her stomach plunged with desire, and liquid heat pooled in her core. She rocketed upward, locking her arms around his neck and her legs around his middle. Dragging him down on top of her, she let out a heated cry as his bare skin scorched hers.
In a flurry, he stripped her bikini top off, navigating the strings with far more skill than she ever could. She tore into his fly, fingers shaking as she popped the button and worked down the zipper.
The metal teeth barely harnessed the throbbing length of his erection. Curling her fingers into the elastic of his underwear, she tugged until her fingertips grazed the solid heat of him.
“Christ, honey.” He took her mouth again, obliterating any thought of taking this slow.
He kicked off his clothes. When he hovered over her, fingers teasing the strings holding up her bikini bottoms, his throat worked as if that body part was just as tight as others.
“Do it,” she whispered.
In one smooth glide, he yanked her bottoms off and flung them over the side of the bed. Before she could register the next move, his fingers were buried inside her again. Thick. Stretching. Fucking her with an insistent possessiveness that her body needed more than air.
Her inner walls clamped around his long, talented fingers. Each time he pulled them free, he would claim her moans with another kiss.
A spike of sensation struck, and she soaked his fingers again. Her hips rocked upward with a mind of their own, meeting his every thrust. When he pressed down on her clit and gave it a light rub with his callused thumb, she shattered.
Wave of bliss blanked her mind like no spiritual meditation ever had. She cried out, her fingers biting into his shoulders again as her orgasm struck with the force of a storm breaking.
Pleasure ripped through her, wave after wave, until she was writhing against him, clinging to the only anchor she had—Hudson Steele.
“Fuck, honey…” His voice was a guttural growl against her throat. He rolled away, tearing into the condom and rolling it over his throbbing, impressive cock with a jerk of his fist.
Then he was back, bringing her thighs around him, arrowing his erection toward her needy, still-pulsing center.
“Take me now!” Her voice broke on the demand.
He met her stare, and in one hard, slow shove, filled her.
They shared a deep moan, and she found his lips, kissing him as they fell into the eye of the storm created from their attraction and lust.
He drove deep and withdrew slowly, making her insides clench and her eyes roll back in her head.
She angled her hips upward, taking him deeper, and felt him tense.
Hudson ground his hips harder, chasing his own release. And she was already splintering for him.
Her body convulsed around him, milking him, driving him closer to the edge.
Every thrust was a claim, every groan a vow, and Izzy couldn’t get enough. She wanted more—wanted all of him. Her nails scraped down his back as he surged deep, the thick, relentless push of his body making her cry out again.
That was all it took. His jaw locked, his muscles tensed, and he buried himself deep with a savage thrust that stole her breath. His release tore from him in a hoarse, broken sound, his entire body shuddering as he emptied inside her, his warmth filling her in hot pulses.
For a long moment, they stayed locked together—her legs still wrapped tight around his waist, his chest pressed to hers, their hearts thundering in sync.
When his breathing finally eased, he kissed her slow and deep, nothing brutal now—just tenderness.
She hadn’t slept with anybody in ages. Since before her ordeal in Syria. She didn’t move, letting the moment between them linger.
Around them, the mansion was still. Suddenly, she realized that in his arms, she felt safe.
She hadn’t felt safe in many places forso long. But the few times she’d visited the base and was surrounded by the special ops team, it was impossible not to feel safer than ever before.
She’d spent a lot of time working on getting in touch with her feelings. So it didn’t take more than a minute to conclude thathereshe could relax. Be herself. Unmask, even.
Her friend Alyssa had been the negotiator that horrible day when men in terrifying masks took her and other Americans hostage. If not for Alyssa, Izzy would never have walked away from that alive.
Between the SEAL she was still tangled with, and the woman she shared a history—and now friendship with—Izzy didn’t really want to return to her solitary apartment.
