Page 87 of Hidden Agendas (Tempting SEALs 4)

There was no ice in those green eyes now. They were darker, somber, filled with hunger and torment.

He shook his head as his arm closed around her hips and tightened, jerking her up to him, while the fingers of the other slid into her hair and gripped the strands with sensual force.

“No fear,” he growled, his head lowering until his lips were nearly, almost but not quite, touching hers. “Show no fear, Emily. I’ll get us through this.”

“Don’t.” She shook her head at the dark confidence she saw in him now. “You don’t have to go to the Andover mansion. We’ll go to the safe house. I’ll hide. I promise, Kell.” Her nails dug into his shoulders in desperation. “I’ll hide.”

For him. She would do anything, even forget her own freedom, to protect him.

He didn’t answer her. His lips touched hers, his gaze held hers. Like rough velvet stroking over her lips, he caressed and tormented, refusing to deepen the contact despite the parting of her lips.

“I’ll protect you, Emily.” A hint of Cajun spice entered his voice. “There’s no hiding. We both know that.”

Because he had tried to hide his wife years ago, she knew. He had tried and his enemies had found her.

“Tell me what to do.” Her breath hitched brokenly. “Tell me how to keep you safe.”

He froze, staring down at her as his pupils dilated and something akin to shock entered his gaze.

“Little fox.” His fingers slid from her hair to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips. “Just be you. Stubborn. Wild. Alive. I’ll do the rest.”

She tried to shake her head again, tried to deny that it would take so little to protect him.

“Come, chère.” His lips touched hers again, embraced the lower curve before moving to the top one. “Be wild with me for now. Later. Later is for taking care, eh?”

Before she could do more than whimper he was gripping her hair again, pulling her head back, and his lips were taking what he needed as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

Taking and giving. Passion, hunger, heat, and need. And love. She could feel the love, hot and desperate, binding them now, though unspoken and guarded.

It filled each touch. It drew her muscles tight with pleasure and sensitized each cell of flesh covering her body. Like whipping lashes of sensation the pleasure snaked around her, through her, sinking past her clothing and her skin to her very soul.

She twisted against him, her fingers sliding into his hair, gripping it, trying to pull him closer as their lips and tongues interlocked, tangled.

Desperate moans filled the room as clothing was shed. His boots, her shoes. Her jeans and panties in one smooth stroke of his hands. His jeans and underwear, her movements jerky and desperate.

He tore her shirt from her shoulders. He was going to have to start replacing her clothes soon. In turn, she ripped the buttons from his shirt and pushed it over his powerful shoulders.

Flesh to flesh now. She cried out into his kiss, nipped at his lips as her nipples raked over his chest. Sizzling sensation tore across her nerve endings. Burned them. She twisted closer, desperate for more as she pushed him toward the bed.

“Mine,” she moaned ruthlessly as they fell to the mattress and she fought to roll from beneath him. “My turn.”

She rose above him, panting for air, straddling his hard thighs as her head lowered for more of his drugging kisses. To taste his lust and his need.

Her pussy was wet. So wet she could feel the damp warmth coating the folds as it rubbed against his cock head. The thick crest was velvety soft, steel hard, throbbing. Hot. It slid through the slit of her pussy, caressed her clit, and had her gasping for breath as she knelt above him.

She thought she had things well in hand, so to speak. She thought she could control the need spiraling inside her. She was convinced she could. Until he filled his hands with her breasts, lifted his head, and captured one hard, straining nipple.

Emily’s back arched, her head falling back on her shoulders as her hips rolled, and in a single hard thrust, she impaled herself on the straining length of his cock.

A frantic mewling cry left her throat as bursts of pleasure and fire stretched her inner muscles to their limit and exposed the ultrasensitive nerve endings to the fierce heat of his erection.

“Prends-le. Take it,” he snarled, his head pushing back into the pillow as he ground his hips upward, stroking her clit, pushing deeper inside her. “Is this what you want?”

He pulled back then plunged deep, impaling her with a ferocity that had her shaking on the edge of orgasm. “Take it, chère, take all of me.”

“Yes. Yes. I want that.” She twisted in his grip, writhed above him as she pressed her hands into his chest for purchase and rolled her hips against him.

He held her still, pulled back, and slammed inside her again before retreating completely.

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