The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2) (33 page)

His face darkened with pleasure, a shadowy picture of raw desire. His eyes were like black flames, his skin now tight over his sharp cheekbones, which cast shadows from the lamp next to the bed. He fingered the hem of her tee. “I need to see you, babe. But if you’re not comfortable with—”

He smiled when she raised her arms, and he wasted no time in drawing her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor next to the bed. A low sound pumped from his throat as his head came down—no screwing around for this man—his mouth closing over her nipple. Her other breast was gently cupped by a deliciously rough palm, and it felt incredible. There was nothing but her and Vincente. No bad memories. Just this.

He rolled her nipple between his knuckles, his tongue and teeth tormenting the other, and Nika moaned and writhed as pleasure flooded her, back arching, offering him everything. Her fingers grasped at his shoulders, slipping off what felt like velvet-covered steel.

“Tell me if I’m too rough.”

She shook her head hard. “You’re not. God, that’s good. Not rough at all. Promise.”

She scraped her nails down his back, loving the low sound he made against her, and came around to tunnel her hands between their bodies. She felt warm metal and slipped the button free, sliding the zipper down, too.

“May I . . . ?” She wasn’t experienced enough to go as hard-core as she wanted to. “I’d like to touch you.”

His head came up, and he smiled crookedly. “Told you already I’m yours to do with as you please. I meant it.”

Strangely touched by that, Nika burrowed through the opening to grasp . . .

“Finally,” she panted, eagerly closing her fingers around that marble-like shaft. Or she tried to. Her eyes widened slightly as she stroked down. “Oooh,” she breathed, too far gone to care about the bald excitement evident in her tone.

He sucked in a ragged breath, and she stopped midstroke. Had she hurt him?

His head lifted from where he’d gone back to her breast. “What?” he panted. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she laughed breathlessly at the absurdity. “God, no. I was just . . . You’re very big.”

She cringed at her gauche remark, but then she didn’t care because Vincente had taken on an expression she hadn’t thought his face would allow. He looked endearingly self-conscious.

“Thanks.” The mumble came from under his breath, and she attempted to make him feel better. She didn’t want either of them feeling shy or holding back.

“I want it.” She tightened her fist on his length and felt a little bit powerful when his eyes flared and then rolled, his breath coming out in a warm burst.

“And you’ll get it. Just not yet. We’ve only started.”

His thumb brushed over her nipple, making her back arch. He dropped his head to nuzzle the sensitive stretch of skin between her breasts, the ends of his hair tickling her shoulders. His palm flattened on her, covering half her chest. But what caught her attention was the fierce hunger on his face, the blatant desire as he looked her over.

He
had
wanted this just as much as she had.

“What is it, babe?” he asked when he saw her staring.

She pushed at his shoulders, no doubt moving him only because he let her, and followed him onto his back. Feeling rather brave, she got to her knees and straddled him, crawling down backward from where she was so that the smooth leather of his harness brushed against her inner thigh.

He stopped her progress by clasping her just above the knee and led her back up a little. He groaned low in his throat. “Holy fuck, Red.”

A dam burst between her legs at the admiration in his voice; the moisture felt slippery and warm. His throat worked through a hard swallow as she looked down into his beautiful eyes, the dark, dark chocolate almost completely hidden by his dilated pupils. Nika smiled and had never been so glad she favored pretty underthings.

This was going to be worth every moment he’d made her wait.

“That’s what I like to see,” Vincente rasped, bringing Nika’s body up even higher. She was wet from
his
kisses.
His
touch. He could see the damp patch on her panties. With her straddling his chest, her legs spread wide, the sultry scent of her arousal nailed him like an uppercut. “I’m going to ruin your pretty panties,” he warned before doing just that. He tossed the tattered remains aside and couldn’t help himself. He had to taste her before his thundering heart gave out. Gripping her hips, he easily lifted her and pulled her over his face so that her knees were cradling his head.

His eyes almost rolled back as he drank in the sight of her, pink and glistening. “Not in my entire life have I seen anything so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered as he brushed the smooth skin of her inner thigh with his thumb.

Her soft gasp had him lowering her to his mouth.

“Oh, God, Vincente!”

Her shocked and pleasure-filled cry shot down his spine. The feel of her velvety smoothness, wet and slippery on and around his mouth and tongue, sent him into a tailspin. He lapped at her; then, unable to get at her like he wanted, he easily flipped her onto her back and forced himself to slowly settle between her legs. The position made it easier to control what he wanted to do to her. She fisted his hair as he licked her like a lollipop. Cried out as his tongue speared her, deep, over and over. Made his name sound like a prayer when he spread her open with his thumbs and worked that little bundle of nerves at the top of her slit. That’s what it took, and Nika’s body tightened like a bowstring and she went off. Her nails dug sharply into his scalp as a passionate cry left her, turning into a long endless wail of pleasure that he worked her through, lapping up her sweetness until the final spasms left her.

Savoring it all, Vincente kissed his way over to her hip and then up her flat stomach, laving her navel, his muscles trembling with the restraint he was using to hold back from claiming her.

“Now, please, Vincente. I want to feel you inside me.” Her voice was raw with a desperation that matched his. But he still ignored her.

And proceeded to lick, nibble, and suck every inch of silky skin he could reach. Worked her erogenous zones as much as he was able—neck, belly, thighs, even the backs of her knees and the creases of her elbows—and still stay sane. He avoided the obvious places this time—that mouthwatering core and those blindingly beautiful nipples—too worried about losing it and possibly hurting her with the strength of his need.

His eyes closed at the plea in her voice as she said his name again, snapping open when she sank her nails into his hips, guiding him as she spread her legs as wide as they’d go.

“Something you want, babe?” He held himself away from paradise by a bare inch.

“Yes, yes. You. Please. Here. I’ll do it.” And before he could do more than smile, she was maneuvering him onto his back again. Her strength registered like a warm breeze, but he allowed the movement, unable to curb her enthusiasm.

Not wanting to curb it.

He held her askew and, knowing he’d made her wait long enough, leaned to the side to yank his nightstand drawer open. He grabbed a condom, ripped the package open, rolled it on in record time, and then Nika was moving over him like a living flame, her glorious hair falling in disarray over her shoulders and down her back, a thick strand curling around the nipple of one perfect breast.

Her hips hovered over his as she circled her fingers around his cock, making the breath shoot out of his lungs. She rubbed just the head at her hot entrance and then took her hand away and slowly impaled herself, needing to work a little until she’d seated herself to the hilt. Their eyes held as her core clutched him in a tight—
fuck, so tight
—silky grip.
Holy hell.
He nailed his jaw shut in an effort to remain silent, so tightly his temples started to ache, and simply watched as Nika began to move, her body like water, hips rolling, but not rising up yet. There was nothing that could have made him look away right then. She looked so alive, her expression one of total bliss. She let her head fall back so that the ends of her hair tickled his thighs.

Mine. All mine.

She raised herself up and paused a second before sinking back down, grinding forward and back, and Vincente couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped from his throat. “So fucking good. Tight . . . wet . . . so beautiful . . . all mine.” Jesus Christ, he was no romantic. He wanted to apologize but couldn’t get the words out. But then he didn’t have to.

“Yes,
sooo
good,” she agreed. “So big . . . yours . . . all of me.”

Fuck. Yes.
Vincente’s fingers gripped his lover’s thighs, and he stilled her, biting the inside of his cheek so that he wouldn’t come. He raised a hand to clasp the back of her neck and pulled her down to devour her sultry smile.

Claim her. Mark her. Own her.
Fan Boy ground out instructions in his head.

He wanted to obey, to do all of those things so no other man would go near her. Not without inciting his wrath. He’d circle around her in public and protect her from everything that could harm her in any way. He’d make her happy. Build her up. Lavish gifts on her. And if there was something he couldn’t find that would please her, he’d build the fucker with his own two hands. And in the privacy of their bedroom, he would love her body. Take her over and over again. Pleasure her. Satisfy her. So thoroughly that she’d never want anyone else.

Ever.

Only him.

Him and her.

Vincente and Nika.

“Vincente? Are you here?” Her nails sinking into his pecs snapped his attention out of his possessive thoughts; the hint of anxiety in her voice clued him in that she’d noticed his distraction.

“I’m so fucking here, babe,” he promised, taking her mouth again. He let go of her nape and clasped her thighs, lifting her so that his hips could go to work. Frustratingly, she went to lift off him. He brought her back with a hand under her arm and across her back, shifting her to bring her nipple closer so he could tongue it as he stroked into her.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please. Yes, like that. I need to feel you. Everywhere.”

Yes, ma’am.
He rolled them so she was underneath him, barely disturbing his rhythm, and she cried out when he went deeper. God, the sounds she made—so beautifully vocal—made him soar; her delicate panting and restless, squirming body brought his need for her satisfaction to the forefront of his mind.

“Vincente.” Her teeth sank into the muscle of his bicep as her hips thrust against him. She used her grip on the harness she’d insisted he leave on as leverage.

He plunged into that moist haven, and his heart nearly burst at her erotic little cry. Their eyes locked, and he started a steady pounding. And then her hands were everywhere, fingers pulling at his shoulders, nails scraping down his ribs, palms flattening on his lower back. And the best? Those long legs of hers wrapped around him, squeezing as she went over, her enthusiastic orgasm triggering his. He came like it was his first time, the climax leveling him as he shuddered endlessly, her clasping muscles draining him of everything he had.

When it was finally over, his body gave out and he collapsed. Knowing he was too heavy, he rolled, but he took her with him, dealing with the condom in a move he hoped she didn’t notice was practiced.

Weird. By now he’d have been up and getting dressed already, trying to think of an excuse as to why he wouldn’t be calling.

Not tonight.

He cracked an eye open and looked down so he could watch Nika fit into his side like the missing piece of a puzzle. Her head went into his neck, her breasts pressed to his side, and one long leg bent and curled around his hips. And, man, life was pretty much fucking perfect right then.

He closed his eyes again, heart rate slowing as she played with his collarbone. She sighed and moved on to trace his wolf’s tooth with her forefinger. Lifting Sophia’s gift, she read what was engraved before placing it back on his chest.

Why wasn’t she asking what the passage was? Did she already know? Why wasn’t she asking who’d given it to him? If it had a special meaning? If he ever took it off?

“My sister gave me that,” he shocked himself by volunteering.

She came up on her elbow and gave him a look he couldn’t identify as she picked up the smooth black stone again. “I’m afraid I don’t know Matthew 6:14.”

“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.”

She laid her head down. “God and I are at odds right now.”

He understood that. “Considering what you’ve been through lately, I’m sure he gets why.”

“You believe in him, right?”

He trailed his fingers down the back of her ribs and smiled a little when goose bumps popped up. He smoothed them away. “Yeah. I believe. Don’t understand some of what he allows to slip by, but I know he’s there. Must hate me.”

She snuggled deeper into him. “Not according to that passage he doesn’t.” She grew quiet for a few beats, until a little shiver passed through her. “Eva thinks I should talk to Gabriel’s friend, the priest who married them.”