Page 72 of Nuclear Option (Owens Protective Services)

“Fuck,” he whispered as I stroked harder.

The tip of his cock grew slick the longer I stroked him. I watched his face contort as he lost control. His hips jerked and then he was coming in my hand, fucking the last of his orgasm into my fist. When he opened his eyes, there was a renewed hunger that sent shivers down my spine. In a flash, he had me flipped over, straddling his legs, but he didn’t stop there. He gripped my hips and dragged me up to his face. I gasped as he jerked my panties to the side and latched his mouth on my pussy.

He moved his tongue expertly over me, working my body until I was frantic with need. I jerked my hips over his mouth, trying to get the best angle, but he always moved me back where he wanted me. Desperate to reach my orgasm, I tried once again to move, only to hear him chuckle as he held me in place. And then I realized why. He was purposely making this difficult for me, drawing it out to drive me over the edge at the slowest pace possible. He was killing me minute by minute with his tongue.

“Cash,” I moaned, pressing my hands to the wall. “I need more.”

But he still didn’t give up. He slid his fingers inside me, slowly fucking me as his tongue kept torturing me. I almost screamed in frustration, and then he did it. He circled my clit over and over. The sensation was too much to take. My legs shook, my breathing picked up, and I cried out as he flicked his tongue over me one last time and sent me tumbling over the edge.

I didn’t even realize I had basically collapsed on his face until he lifted me off him and laid me down on the bed. I was panting hard, seeing stars from the intensity of the orgasm he pulled from me. He pressed kisses to my unmoving lips, slid his tongue all over my body, but I laid there like a lump. Unable to move, he had his way with me, shooting me a wicked grin as he slid inside me and made me come all over again. And when I nearly passed out from how hard he fucked me, he grabbed a glass of water and sat down beside me.

“Better?” he asked, handing it over.

I took it from him and drank greedily. My throat was so parched, and words ceased to exist at that moment. I needed at least an hour to recover. How did people have non-stop sex? I was already exhausted.

I mumbled something, I wasn’t sure what, and he laughed at me, taking the cup from me. Then he laid down beside me and trailed his hand over my belly, rubbing small circles over my skin.

“I’m glad we worked that out.”

“The talk or the sex?” I asked.

“Both, but definitely the sex. I’m pretty sure it solves everything.”

A burst of laughter escaped from my mouth. “I actually thought the talking was more helpful, but who am I to argue with a sniper?”

“You’re right. I think we should table this discussion for now. There are more important things to do.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I need a minute to recover.”

He frowned at me. “I was talking about sleep. You kept me up last night with your puking.”

“I did not!”

“You don’t remember that?” he chuckled.

“Maybe my brain blocked it out.”

“Possibly. We tend to block out traumatic experiences. It’s a shame my brain didn’t do that last night. I could do without the sounds you made running through my head.”

I slapped him on the arm, but snuggled into his side. “Do you think the others are up?”

“If your puking didn’t wake them, the sounds that just came out of your mouth did.”

* * *

When we finally emerged fromour room after sleeping the rest of the night, and another round of sex, I felt better than I had in a long time. Cash couldn’t keep his hands off me, constantly touching my back or sliding his hand up to my neck in a light grip. As we made our way downstairs, Cash watched me with an intensity that rivaled anything to date.

“Look who finally emerged,” Fox grinned, sipping a cup of coffee. “I thought for sure I was going to have to go upstairs and start singing show tunes.”

“Don’t you have someone to kill?” Cash asked.

“I’d like to kill that fucker Rafe, but somehow, I don’t think you’d let me do that.”

“Rae, where do we stand with the search for Noah?”

“I’m pretty sure I locked on a location for a contact of his. He’s a slippery weasel. The information in the FBI database is probably from when they first put him on the watchlist. If hacking into their system wasn’t illegal, I would call them and point out just how bad their intel is.”

“Then we’ll hit the road tonight,” Cash announced. “Fox, I need you to run into town for supplies. We’ll stop as few times as possible. The smaller footprint we leave, the better off we are.”

---