Page 43 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

He had hurt her

. He knew he had. His own determination to protect her had stripped her down to the base of who and what she was. Stubborn, intent. The shock had worn off and now the woman was emerging, pissed off, wary, and ready to fight.

"You've avoided it for eight years, Clint. I can work with you and handle it. You don't have to fuck me to keep me alive." She straightened from the wall, her arms dropping to her sides as he began to pace closer to her.

"No. I have to have you to keep my own sanity," he said softly. "I have to touch you, taste you, possess all the heat and fire before I die inside from the cold, Morganna."

She warmed him and he hadn't even realized it. When he was with her, his emotions, his hungers, all the desperate needs she inspired in him rose to the surface. There was something about Morganna mat made him feel. And he had sworn long ago that he would never let that happen.

"You never cared how cold you were before. Why start now?" Her voice was rough with the angry tears he could see she was holding back.

He was almost wary. He had learned how to handle Morganna in every given mood but this one. This one intrigued him the most, though. She was fighting him rather than teasing him. Defying him rather than giving in to him. The complete opposite of the type of woman he had always believed would suit him.

Anticipation licked over his flesh, sending vibrations of awareness to ripple through his cock. He was going to lay her across that damned bed and paddle her ass for making him crazy first. Then he would show her exactly how a true Dom tamed fiery little wildcats like herself.

She stared back at him defiantly as he stopped within inches of her, watching her with narrowed eyes, feeling the waves of anger and desire that whipped around him.

"You're mine." He kept his voice low as he watched her lips tighten in anger.

"And it took a knife at my neck to convince you of that?" She snorted derisively. "Oh really, Clint. You're just horny. Did the redhead turn you on a little too much? I can't believe you would dare to try to touch me after having that bimbo on your lap."

Brilliant points of light fed into the stormy gaze now, the phenomenon mesmerizing him for long minutes. He believed she just might be more pissed than he originally thought.

"She's an agent, Morganna," he reminded her. "That was the role. Remember?"

"As though she convinced anyone she needed to be drugged to fuck," Morganna sneered. "She was so ready to do you it was pathetic. And you were encouraging her." She threw it at him as though the sin were of blasphemous proportions.

She was jealous. Furiously jealous. And seeing it did nothing to still his lust and his need as it would have with any other woman. Instead, if possible, his cock grew harder, his hunger for her rising.

"I'll encourage you harder," he offered. "Come and sit on my knee, Morganna. Let's see if you can show me how it's supposed to be done."

"You bastard!"

He saw her arm move, the upswing of her tight little fist, and held himself still. He could have caught her barreling fist, could have stopped the impact of it before it connected with the side of his lips.

But he didn't. The sharp sting caused him to flinch, but he didn't break eye contact with her. His fingers snapped around her wrist when she drew back, and he watched as shock rounded her eyes, drew the color from her face.

Holding her gaze, he lifted his free hand and wiped the thin trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. He glanced at his fingers, seeing the dark smear across them before he stared back at her.

She gasped as the same finger touched her lips, pressing inside her mouth. Her tongue curled over it, a shiver washing over her as a startled, breathless little cry vibrated from her lips. He brought her fist to his lips then, his tongue licking over the smear of the blood that stained her fragile fingers.

"Kiss it and make it better now," he growled, jerking her to him, feeling the demon of lust that rode his back howling out in hunger as her body came flush with his. "We'll both make it better."

Morganna met Clint's lips halfway, a cry of hunger and desperation leaving her throat as they came together. It wasn't an easy kiss. It wasn't a gentle kiss. As though the fear of losing him and the aching loss she had dealt with as she left his truck hours before coalesced into a driving, burning conflagration that overtook her mind.

A haze of red filled her vision, even though her eyes were closed. Brilliant pinpricks of color exploded behind her closed lids as dizzying sensations ripped through her mind.

"I can't be around you without craving your taste," he muttered against her lips. "Dying for you, a little bit at a time. Dying to taste and touch ... Sweet God, Morganna, you make me crazy for you."

His voice was dark and heavy with emotion. Tormented. Filled with need and hunger. A need and hunger that rose inside her, matching his for desperation and intensity as his lips covered hers once again.

His kiss was a marauder intent on submission, and submission had never been Morganna's strong suit. Especially with Clint.

As his lips controlled hers, she was well aware they were controlling her, his tongue moving past hers in well-timed thrusts that mimicked a pleasure her body was rioting for.

His fingertips touched her jaw as he groaned against her lips. Touching her with a gentle, hesitant caress that reinforced the dominance of his kiss.

She nipped at his tongue, only to have his hand cup beneath her chin, his fingers gripping her jaws and holding them open. Oh, she loved that. The forceful domination blew her mind.

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