Page 94 of Killer Secrets (Tempting SEALs 5)

Her body drew tight beneath his as she shuddered and trembled in his arms.

"Am I yours too, Kira? Do I belong to you?" He lifted his head, glancing up to see the battle she waged reflected in her sweat-dampened features as her head thrashed back and forth on the bed, denial contorting her features as a cry fell from her lips.

/> He licked one nipple, then the other. He let his kisses trail from one mound to the valley between her breasts and the journey that led to the sweet, seductive spice of her wet pussy.

He was dying to slide his cock inside the velvet heat of her vagina. To feel her muscles tighten around him, stretching as they took him, accepted him. The way her juices slickened the sweet depths, the way they eased his penetration of her. His possession of her.

Oh yeah, he had her heart, even a part of her soul. But he didn't have all of her. Not yet. Not yet, but he would have it before the night was finished.

"Ian, don't torture me. Don't do this." Vulnerability, fear, arousal. It all clashed in her voice as the plea had him laying his cheek against the soft mound of her belly and forcing him to breathe in deep, to remember what he was fighting for.

He wouldn't take from her. He accepted her. Her need to fight for what she believed was right, her need to be here, to see the man that had destroyed her family fall. He accepted those parts of her that refused to allow him to coddle her, to keep her out of danger. He needed her to accept him in turn. To claim him. To demand him.

He needed it, though it made no sense. He knew he loved her, knew she loved him, what did it matter if she was willing to face it at this moment or not?

It did matter. It mattered that he could lose her, that she could lose him, and that vow wouldn't be between them. That she wouldn't know how much he had loved her, needed her. Because for whatever reason, she didn't want to hear the words.

"Do you know what the taste of you does to me?" He nipped at the flesh of her thigh as he made a place between her legs for his shoulders. His hands clamped on her hips to hold her in place even as he ignored her sharp little nails digging into his scalp or how she tugged at the thick strands of his hair.

"Let me touch you," she cried out. "Let me taste you."

"Let you love me?" He smiled as he laid his cheek against her thigh, the spicy-sweet smell of her infusing his senses as he stared up at her. "Let me love you, Kira."

She shuddered, her gray eyes going stormy as she stared at him, pleaded silently with him.

"Let me show you, since you don't want to hear the words."

One hand left her hip to trail between her legs. He felt the heated juices against his fingertips and felt his mouth watering to taste them. She was sweeter than syrup, hotter than sunlight, and she burned him to the very core of his being with her passion and her love.

"Ian, you don't know . . . Don't know what you're doing to me."

"What you did to me?" He parted the sweet flesh, ran his fingers along the narrow slit. "Showing you how I feel? Making you accept that I need as well? Oh yes, Kira. I do know what I'm doing."

Before she could form an argument or pull harder at his hair, he lowered his head and swirled his tongue around the distended, hardened little clit. Softly pink, throbbing with arousal and glistening with her juices, it drew him like a sensual drug, made him hungry, made him ache to feel it within his mouth.

God, he loved her taste. It exploded against his tongue, filled his mouth with the lightest hint of sugar and fiery spice.

He groaned into her flesh, felt her shudder again and felt an overwhelming pride that he could give her such pleasure. The same pleasure she gave him. The kind that whipped through the soul and bound a man and woman together forever.

That was what it was, chains weaving through silken emotions, ensuring that no matter where they existed, together or apart, that they would always belong.

He had never belonged. Until now.

KIRA THRASHED, JERKED, WRITHED BENEATH him but nothing could break the hold he had on her. She pulled at his hair, begged breathlessly, but nothing stopped the destructive strokes of his lips and his tongue or the explosive pleasure of his suckling mouth.

She arched, fighting to get closer even as she fought to hold back the effects of the pleasure.

Oh God, it was so good. His tongue stroked around her clit as his lips sucked at it. When she was close, so close to release, he moved, licked along the shallow slit, sucked the soft folds into his mouth and groaned as her juices fell from her pussy to the caressing fingertips that stroked over the entrance yet never penetrated.

"Am I yours, Kira?" he whispered again.

Oh God, what did it matter? Why did he fucking care? He knew he owned her. He owned her heart and soul, what did it matter if the thought of his love terrified her? She could love him and deal with the loss. She had done that before. Dealt with losing those she loved. But she had never known love. Not like this. If he loved as she did, then it meant she was betraying not just the man, but his soul. She couldn't handle that. She couldn't handle knowing he was out there, without her, betrayed, hating her. Even her ex-husband hadn't hated her by time he walked away. Of course, she had never allowed him to love her either.

She cried out Ian's name as piercing pinpoints of heated ecstasy exploded around her clit. He pulled the little bud into his mouth once again, stroked it, licked and savored it. He kissed it. Suckling little kisses that were gone before they could push her over the edge.

She tried to tighten her thighs, to hold him in place, but his shoulders were there, stopping her. Each time she tried to distract him, his finger would stroke inside her pussy, just a bit, just enough to force her to still, to ache for more.

"Ian, please. Please." She panted beneath the caress, ready to cry, to beg, ready to die if he didn't do something, anything, to ease the sensual pain building inside her.

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