Page 97 of Hidden Agendas (Tempting SEALs 4)

He gritted his teeth. His head shook in desperate denial, but holding back his own release was impossible.

He didn’t know what he said, words were spilling from his lips as he pumped inside her, feeling his cock erupt and his cum spurt heavily from his body.

All he knew was the heat and the hunger, the release and the desperation.

“Je t’aime. I love you. Bébé. My sweet—so sweet.”

He came over her, still buried inside her, fighting to breathe as his arms surrounded her and his lips were buried in her neck.

“My precious. My life,” he groaned at her neck, hearing her voice at his ear, gasping cries of love.

“. . . mine.” The keening cry of possession that fell from her lips was accompanied by her sharp little teeth biting into his shoulder and sending another flare of heat tearing through his body.

“We’re not finished,” he groaned at her neck, stringing sharp little kisses beneath her ear.

“Chère, by no means are we finished.” He was still hard, still hungry.

He pulled free, resheathed his still hard cock before pulling her to him and lifting her into his arms as he sat on his knees, impaling her once again on his thick cock.

Her eyes widened, then turned slumberous again as her arms wrapped around him, and she leaned back just enough to give herself leverage before she began riding him.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled. “Fuck me, ma bien-aimée.” He whispered an endearment he had never used, had never allowed to slip past his lips. His sweet. His darling. “Ça c’est bon, so good. Ride me hard.” He gripped her hips, urging her on, feeling the tight clasp of her pussy and the heat surrounding him as he lost himself in possessing her once again.

He watched her as she rode him, her legs clasped around his hips, her torso arched, pushing her breasts to him, sweet hard nipple drawing his mouth as he held her, fucked her, lost himself in her.

“Ma bien-aimée—my beloved.”

They exploded together, his harsh exclamation mixing with her cries as they fell to the bed amid tangled limbs and sweat-soaked flesh.

“Give me a minute,” he groaned, boneless, barely able to breathe. “We’ll go again, eh amoureuse?” His sweetheart. She was his soul.

The soft, defiant snort drew a grin to his lips.

“Touch me, die,” she muttered, her pussy flexing around his cock as she held him inside her.

“Die if I don’t,” he muttered, barely able to withdraw and collapse to his side before drawing her against him. “Might need some food first.”

Her murmur, neither encouraging nor denying had a grin tugging at his lips. “You’re cooking, right?”

“You’re dreaming,” she mumbled.

Yes, he was. Of her. Always of her.

He drew her closer, letting her drape over his chest with a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes for a quick nap. Just a little one, before he fixed them both something with enough protein to see them through the day. Tonight, she would sleep. Sexual exhaustion could do wonders for the nightmares, he knew. And he would see that no nightmares came calling. That tonight she would sleep, because tomorrow they would both need all their senses rested. Tomorrow, they would face her demons.

JUDAS STARED AT THE SECURED cell phone in his hand and the message that he had only to click a single button to send. Just one movement of his thumb, and it would be over.

He had made his choice two years before; he didn’t know why he was second-guessing it now. After years of ignoring the truth, the knowledge that this day would come, he had accepted there was no chance of fighting it any longer.

But still, he hesitated.

He had accepted his father’s demand days ago. He would take his place within the cartel in exchange for Mr. White, Emily’s safety, and most especially in exchange for Nathan.

He wiped his hand over his face at the thought of Nathan. The one man who had known the truth about him and had never told it, never judged him for it.

The message waited. He had already agreed, there was no reason to hold back now. All was laid in place and his father was giving him Mr. White on a silver platter. All he had to do was this one last thing. Just send this final message. The message that would lead Macey to him within a matter of days. But it would also finish this final battle between the men of Durango Team and Mr. White. White would be history.

He pushed send, closed the phone, and sat back to stare into the darkness of the room surrounding him. He hoped it was worth it. That the choice he’d made would eventually reap the rewards he dreamed of. And oh, how he dreamed. But lately, he had begun dreaming of more as well. Of gray eyes and long black hair. A hidden smile and a woman’s whisper of desire. He was throwing that away and he knew it.

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