Handcuffed by Her Hero (4 page)

“No.” She dug
her fingers beneath his beard, digging into his skin. “No talk of killing. No
talk of death.” When his gaze lifted into hers, she didn’t hold back on letting
him see everything inside her. The pure gratitude. The raw attraction. The
scorching need. “We’ve both danced at that edge before. Not now. Tonight, the
dance is about living. About celebrating.” She let her hands travel back,
delving into his scalp again. “I know this isn’t forever. I know you can’t give
me that. It’s not what I want.”

When conflict
still glittered in his gaze, she took a determined breath and shifted her other
hand—from her crotch to his. She shoved back her insecurity. This point
had
to
stick. When her fingers closed around his erection, she stroked it as if his
clothes weren’t there and she held his bare, hard length in her hand.

“I only want
you, Zeke. I need you. Here. Tonight. Inside me. Please.”

It wasn’t the
first time a woman grabbed him like this. It wouldn’t be the last. But holy hell,
Z didn’t know if another’s touch would ever affect him this way. His thighs
trembled. His heartbeat skidded. Christ, his toes were tingling.

He had to get a
grip. She wasn’t some goddamn lust fairy. She was simply the first body he’d
been near in two months that didn’t smell like a goat and fart like a cretin.
So what if she’d been his go-to fantasy during those months, his escape from
considering that the squad’s targets had enough plutonium to decimate half of
South Asia? So what if her body was more sleek, sensual, lithe and gorgeous
than even his best dreams? So what if that diamond nestled in her lush curls
turned the peach beneath it into his new fruit to crave?

Shit.

His only intention
had only been to make sure she was safe, comforted, and lulled back into a
peaceful sleep. He was a man of control, including his own body. He’d been able
to play Dom with totally naked women for hours and never experienced what he did
from ten minutes of this
woman with her tousled hair and faded Princess
LeiaT-shirt.

Wasn’t
that
the blinding flash of the obvious here? This
woman. Rayna. The one who
didn’t get a category because she
was
a category. Light as mist but
fierce as hail. Tiny as a sprite but formidable as a queen. Special.
Incredible. A miracle.

His. Just for a
few perfect hours, he’d have her in so many ways he’d dreamed. She wanted it—and
goddamnit, did
he
want it.

He almost tossed
his head to see if there was a demon on one shoulder and an angel on the other.
“Hell,” he growled. “Ray-bird, I don’t think you understand what—”

“Stop it. I’m
not thirteen. I damn well understand what I’m asking for!”

“No.” In one
instant, he went from his half-respectful pose to sliding hard between her legs.
“No, I don’t think you do.”

Thud. Thud.
He locked her
wrists down to the mattress on either side of her head, not compromising his
hold or his stare. “I don’t do smooth jazz and long, slow walks on the beach,
honey. I’ll fuck you like a Stratocaster solo, hard and long and sweaty, until
your ears ring and you don’t know which way is up anymore.” Her pupils dilated
and her mouth parted, and shit if that didn’t turn him on in five fresh ways.
“I won’t tie you up. I won’t use any kinky toys. But I promise your skin will
carry my marks. My taste will linger on your tongue. Your body will remember,
for a very long time, exactly who’s been inside it.”

He dragged his
grip from her wrists to her elbows, leaving trails with his thumbnails on the
way. Rayna shuddered and arched against him, almost stopping his next words
from getting past his dry throat. “Be careful about asking for the fire, little
bird, if you’re not ready for the burn.”

Funny that he
mentioned fire. The woman met his scrutiny with eyes that were filled with the
stuff, turning into someone he barely recognized as she panted hard. The flames
burned brighter as he circled his thumbs to the tender flesh of her inner
elbows. She cried out and writhed as if he’d stroked her whole clit.
Fascinating. Exhilarating. So accessible, so real. He loved watching her,
observing what he could do to her.

Finally, she
collected herself enough to rasp a reply. “You got flint and sticks inside
those pants, Boy Scout? Or are you just going to talk all night?”

His grin busted
his face so wide, it hurt. But only for a second. After that, he was too busy
capturing her mouth with his. Commanding her lips to form with his. Meshing her
tongue and teeth with his. She opened eagerly for him, giving back every degree
of his passion. He moaned with wonder. For years, he’d kissed nothing but
carefully-schooled submissives who assumed they should let him do all the work,
let him be all the kindling. How long had it been since a woman returned every
drop of lust he gave from their first kiss? She astounded him. Ignited him. Scared
the shit out of him.

He wanted more.

A lot more.

As they kept going
at each other like teenagers at Gas Works Park, adorably breathy sounds erupted
in her throat, driving him to the edge of insanity. But the woman wasn’t going
to settle for the edge. Since he still had her arms pinned, Rayna raised her
legs for her cause. She wrapped both around him, dragging up his T-shirt with
her toes, climbing his spine with the balls of her feet. The action forced his mouth
from hers to make room for his astonished huff.

“Fuck.” He pulled
away long enough to help her finish the task, balling his shirt up and tossing
it to the shadows. Her little gasp of admiration, joined by her curious fingers
at the round three-part tattoo over his heart, shot his body full of electricity.
He dipped back in and suckled his way to her neck, her scent swirling into his
senses. Cinnamon. Cardamom. A little exotic. A lot erotic. “You never told me
you were part Gumby, honey.”

She trailed her
mouth to the base of his throat. “Yoga is very helpful for stress levels when
you’re on the run from slave traders.”

“Is that so?” He
teethed her earlobe.

“Uhhhh…” She
gasped and wriggled. “Uh-huh.”

“Jungle yoga.”
He grinned against her nape. “That sounds real nice. Were you…naked?”

She lightly
kicked his ass through his pants. “No! You ever been bitten by a baseball-sized
bug, Sergeant?”

“A number of
times.” With no more warning than that, he moved his grip into the bottom of
her shirt, shoving it up then off. “No bugs in here,” he drawled, drinking in
the sight of her perfect, erect breasts. She colored a little beneath his study
but that didn’t stop him from dipping his head to one of the perfect mounds, dragging
her spicy nipple between his teeth. Goddamn, she tasted amazing. He took in more
of her warm, delicious flesh as Rayna arched into him, tangling her hands in
his hair again.

“But plenty of—oh,
mmmm—bites.” She finished it with a longer mewl as he slid his mouth to her
other breast, tugging at the nub with similar demand. He joined his hiss to
hers as she dug her nails into his nape and along his shoulders. Her eagerness
was a goddamn stream of liquid fire on his body. To know she desired him like
this, to feel it in her frantic touch, to see it making erotic shadows in her
eyes, made his dick pulse just as if she were licking every inch of it with the
tongue she snuck out to wet her lips.

“Damn bugs.” He
slid a smile as he made short work of his belt buckle and fly. “They make
people swell up…everywhere.”

As he finally
gave his erection its freedom, the breath audibly caught in her throat. Liquid
flame dump number two, only this time, the hard-on fly boys aimed straight for
his cock. He joined her in the not-breathing-and-liking-it department as she
stared at the tattoo running just beneath his belt line. Her gaze hypnotized
him as it ran over the twin barbed wire swirls that flowed just beneath his
belt line, accented with eight dark blue drops. There were four on each side of
the middle break, which was now dominated by his swollen length. As he stroked
it from base to head with a grateful grunt, she let out a gasp.

“Zeke.” Her jaw
fell, clamped shut, dropped open again. “You—you’re—”

A strange
sensation invaded his face. Hot. Tingling. Completely uncomfortable. Holy fuck,
he was
not
blushing.
Christ, Hayes. Like you’ve never gotten this
reaction before?

Yeah, yeah, the
response wasn’t new. He just had no idea what to do with this version of it, a
woman who didn’t cap her surprise with greedy eyes and a come-fuck-me smile.
Rayna’s astonishment was genuine. Blush-inducing.

“I’m a big guy,
Ray-bird.”

“You’re
beautiful.” She traced a finger along one of the tattoos. “All of you.”

Her praise and
her touch were a potent elixir. He spasmed, and the sweet heat of his pre-cum
emerged. He watched, fascinated, as Rayna moved her finger to the weeping tip
of his penis and caught those drops. After she raised them to her tongue, she smiled
like a kid who’d just discovered a new candy.

“You taste beautiful,
too.”

He cleared his
parched throat. For what he had to say next, he needed every vocal cord that
would cooperate with him.

“Touch me again,”
he ordered. “Every inch of me this time, honey.” When her lips parted a little
in hesitation, Z guided her hand to his pulsing shaft. He’d promised no
spanking or illicit toys. He’d said nothing about a little directed seduction—which
scored a direct hit for eliciting its intended response, judging from how her
nipples puckered and her inner thighs quivered.

She lifted her
gaze as she stroked him with curious care. As amazing as her caresses felt, her
stare affected him more. She watched him. Really watched. She clearly cared about
the pleasure she brought him and was moved by it. No doubt, she could see the
amazement in his stare, too. Of all the moments he’d fantasized about sharing
with her between the sheets, this had definitely not been one of them. It was
beyond expectation. Better than imagination.

And her shocked
cry, when she ran her grip back up his penis, was more pitch perfect than he’d
dreamed.

“What the—” She
broke their eye contact to gape at the inverted V formed by the underside of
his head—and the barbell nestled horizontally in the flesh there. Zeke pressed
his lips to hold in a chuckle. A wise move. That made it easier to clamp his
teeth as she continued to explore his piercing. Damn, if she rubbed that little
spot beneath his bulb just one more time—

“Shit!” He spilled
more pre-cum onto her fingers.

She froze.
“Sorry! Am I hurting—”

“No. Sweet fuck,
honey, no.”

“This is why you
knew so much about genital piercings.”

“A little
real-life experience goes a long—
damn
! Oh yeah, right there.
That’s—that’s perf—” He closed his eyes to let them roll back in his head. “Is this
how it felt when I was inspecting you?”

She ran her
thumb along his bar again. Her answer carried a gloating smile. “Karma’s a
bitch, Sergeant.”

Part of him
wanted to laugh. The other half longed to flip her over and spank that adorable
sarcasm into mindless screams—and pleas for his cock. God, what he could do
with this woman, if she were his willing submissive. The ways he’d harness
her…teach her…pleasure her…

Right before he
released her.

And hurt her.

It was much,
much
better this way. One night only. A hot fuck between friends. A
welcome-back-to-the-states for him, a welcome-back-to-sex for her. A memory to
make. A path they’d never travel together again.

He was going to
make the most of it.

With a wicked
grin, he pulled Rayna’s hand away from his erection. A frisson of curiosity
glinted in her eyes. He loved that look…the mesmerized girl twined into the
passionate woman, waiting to be shown a new discovery. He had one ready, too.
He guided her fingers to it, slipping them into the valley of her labia. Her
mouth parted more, an invitation he couldn’t refuse. As he fused his lips to
hers, he led her fingers deeper into her sex. Her trembles became shudders. Her
sighs turned into moans.

When he was
finished, he didn’t go far. With his mouth a breath above hers, he watched the
arousal take over her face, crunching her forehead in a bittersweet scowl. He’d
dreamed of her like this so many times on the mission. In the deepest parts of
the nights, during those sleepless hours when he wondered if the next day would
be his last, he’d imagine her in this bed, thighs open, fingering herself,
gasping faster and faster until she came, calling out his name with her
explosion. Now that he realized she hadn’t come close to making that a reality
in the last two months, he was determined to help her find that nirvana in
herself once again.

“That’s it,” he
coaxed. “Touch it, honey. Rub your beautiful pussy for me. Stroke your clit
with that pretty diamond. God
damn
, you’re beautiful.”

He was glad he
hadn’t bothered to empty his pockets yet. In two fast motions, he had his
wallet whipped out and his backup condom in hand. As he pushed his pants all
the way off, he ripped the foil in a motion more natural than scratching his
balls. Not that his balls screamed for anything but release right now. They
throbbed harder as he sheathed up, rolling the latex over his length before
positioning his head at the soft, shiny entrance of Rayna’s deepest core.

“Oh!” Her eyes
flew open, long lashes framing eyes that had turned into dark green oceans.
Fuck. A guy’s soul could drown in a stare like that. Thank God he’d never see
it again after tonight.

“Oh, Zeke.” She
breathed it she looked down. “Oh,
Zeke
!” The scream erupted as he pushed
his tip into her, stopping just before his piercing breached her pussy.

“I’ll try to
make this easy, honey.” He barely heard the dry tree bark of his words past the
blood pounding in his ears. “I can’t—guarantee I’ll—succeed.”