Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3) (13 page)

Zain’s lips gently pressed against hers. Tender even. She dropped the bag of clothes and hugged him to her, hungry to feel his warmth. His kiss. She lifted up on tip toes, seeking more. Everything he had to give her, she wanted. His tongue stroked into her mouth, stoking her desire.

Andrea had heard about women, her friends even, talk about wanting someone more than their next breath. She’d never understood that urge. Until now. She slid her hands up, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer.

The urgency was the worst—the best. She needed him now. Needed to feel alive. Safe. Desired. All at once.

His thigh pushed between hers, his weight holding her against the wall, keeping her prisoner—not that she was trying to get away or even wanted to. She rocked against him, fissures of pleasure breaking through the toxic fear she’d been mired in for the last hour, replacing it with lust.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. She peered up at his closed eyes, and wanted to smooth out the lines at his temples. Kiss them away.

“You should take that shower now,” he said.

She stared for a moment. Was he trying to disengage? To get rid of her? Had she done something wrong? The words stuck in her throat. There was a tension in the air. She could feel it. He was holding back, but why?

He stepped back, his hand at her hip and he started at her through narrow slits.

Andrea didn’t have it in her to fight with him. To figure out what was changing or why, but she felt the moment shift. Go cold even. She hugged her arms around herself and pivoted, stepping into the bathroom.

She flipped the lights on, keeping her eyes on the floor. The weight of his gaze on her made her feet heavy as though she shouldn’t move.

But he’d told her to go. Hadn’t he?

Why did men have to be so confusing? They said women were complicated—but her wants were simple.

Him.

She wanted him.

“Here.”

Andrea turned toward the door. Zain stood there, the damn bag in hand.

“Thanks.” She took it and set it on the vanity, unable to look at her reflection for fear that she’d see too much. It was one thing to feel it, another to see the stark evidence of what she wanted and couldn’t have.

He filled the doorway, staring at her.

Her gaze slid toward him, hungry for more.

The longing in his eyes...

She sucked in a breath, unprepared for the intensity of it. He took one step, closing the distance between them. They reached for each other, his arm around her waist, her hands on his shoulders. The hard edge of the vanity pressed against her bottom.

He
devoured
her mouth. There was no other word for it. His teeth nipped at her lips, his tongue stroked her. He palmed her ass, guiding her even as she shifted and moved, rubbing against him. She’d never felt so bold. He groaned into her mouth.

In that moment, she was more alive than she’d ever been before. The sexual charge between them only grew until each press of skin, the barest touch had her gasping as her too sensitive nerve endings lit up, drawing attention to any place they touched. Her breasts were...heavy. Her nipples chafed against her bra. Things she’d never felt before.

His hold around her waist tightened until he lifted her off her feet and set her on the counter. He peeled the cup of her bra aside with his teeth.

Oh, yes, please.

She shrugged the straps off, freeing her breasts and leaned back, hands on the smooth marble surface.

The light was too bright, nothing was hidden, but it allowed her to see everything. Zain’s dark hair against her skin. His lips and tongue doing things to her breasts she felt all over her body. Each touch and lick only heightened the lust burning her veins.

He wanted her.

She’d never felt wanted. Not like this. Not like she was as important as his next breath of air.

His left hand rest against her upper thigh, so close to where their bodies had joined last night. Where she wanted him now.

He rose, kissing his way up her chest and throat, across her jaw to her lips. His forehead rest against hers, his eyes shut again.

“I’m sorry. You should take that shower now.” His voice was different, rougher.

“I should.” She wrapped her calves around the back of his thighs.

Just because she should shower didn’t mean that was what was going to happen.

“Andrea...” He said her name as though it were a warning.

“What?”

His eyes slowly opened. If anything, the need was worse. Did he see the same thing when he looked at her? Because she was pretty sure she needed him.

“You don’t want me like this,” he said.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. How?”

“I’m not...I’m not what you need.”

“How do you know that? I don’t even know what I need.” She cupped his cheek, swiping her thumb along the deep scar. “I want you. That’s all I really know.”

“You should tell me to go away.”

“People are always telling me what to do. You want to know something? I’m really sick of being told what to do. I’m not going to tell you to do anything.”

“I’m not good for you.”

He what?

She couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of baggage he came with. How losing an arm and doing what he did changed him. But the idea that he wasn’t good for her—or that he was bad—was the silliest thing yet.

“You don’t want me? That’s okay.” She swallowed. Rejection stung, but she’d felt it before.

“No—That’s not what I’m saying.” He placed his hand at the base of her throat and stared at it. “I do want you. But I can’t be what you need.”

“What’s that?”

“Someone...gentler.”

“News to me.”

His hand slid down her chest, his touch scorching her. Her nipples were so tight she could feel her heart pulse each time it beat in the stiff peaks.

“I’m not good for you,” he said again.

She couldn’t fight his past. Whatever phantom haunted him, it wasn’t her battle.

Andrea uncurled her legs from around his and straightened, which also put her face to face with him. She placed her hand against his chest, right over his heartbeat, and kissed his cheek.

“I want you too much. Do you know what that’s like?” His gaze slid up to hers and his hand cupped her breast.

“N-no.”

Oh, this wasn’t fair.

“It’s eating me up.” His thumb swiped over her sensitive flesh. “If you don’t tell me to go, I’m going to bend you over the sink and fuck you.”

“Oh. Okay.” She wiggled her toes. Was there something wrong with that plan?

“Andrea...”

“Hm?”

He grasped the stiff peak of her nipple between two fingers and gently tugged. She gasped and arched her back, losing all rational thought.

“Last chance,” he said.

“Is that a warning or a promise?”

He let go of her and stepped back. For a second they stared at each other.

A promise, she decided.

Zain pivoted and walked straight across to the closet.

She slid to her feet, wiggling her feet out of her boots, not bothering with the zippers. She clawed at the button on her jeans in a mad dash to get out of her clothes as fast as she could. There wasn’t time for insecurities or second guessing herself, not when she wanted him this badly.

Zain filled the doorway. His eyes were hard, his mouth unyielding, and in his hand—another condom. There was no going back.

He tossed the packet onto the counter and crossed to her, gripping the counter on either side of her hips. The marble was cold against her ass. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

She pressed her thighs together, warmth unfurling low in her belly.

He boldly cupped her mound. She gasped and he leaned into her, deepening the kiss as his fingers penetrated her. No teasing touches, no gentle caress. It was a demanding invasion of her body. There was no question of who was in control here. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Zain tore his lips from hers and his fingers slipped out of her pussy. She moaned at the loss of his touch. But only for a second. He grasped her hip, turning her in place.

The look on his face, the reflection of them together, told her everything she needed to know.

He was going to make good on his promising threat.

She wasn’t going to be disappointed.

He kissed her neck, the crook of her shoulder and cupped her breasts. The sensations were different, his warm flesh and the cool plastic. She dared open her eyes, taking in their reflection, and her throat closed up.

Was this how he saw her?

Her cheeks were flushed, her hair crazy, and yet...she felt sexy. Because of him. Because he wanted awkward, silly her.

His eyes opened and locked with hers. She didn’t dare move, but she didn’t want to. Why should she when she felt like this?

He grasped the condom and tore it open with his teeth. She heard the rasp of his zipper, the rustle of fabric and the stretch of latex. His clothes were staying on, while she was naked. It was strangely erotic.

She grasped the edge of the counter, shivering at the coolness of the marble. He leaned into her, the hot feel of his erect flesh against her ass a stark contrast.

Zain flattened his left hand against her stomach and kissed her neck, his tongue licking a path up to her ear. His foot nudged hers. She widened her stance, leaning forward a bit. He muttered incoherent, raw words.

Andrea gasped and her eyes fluttered close at the touch of his cock to her pussy. She held the breath, anticipation curling her toes. He pressed against her, his entrance eased by her arousal. She pressed her nails into her palms, feeling every bit of him as he stretched her.

Last night she’d wondered if she was too tense, now she realized he was just big.

He moved inside of her, his thrusts gentle, working more of his length into her. His fingers squeezed her hip, the short nails grazing her skin. At long last, she felt the press of his body against her, his hips pinning her to the vanity and the scrape of the zipper on her ass.

They both gasped, breathing in time.

She peered at the mirror and caught him staring at her, his gaze dark. Sexy. Lusting.

Andrea wanted the words to tell him what she saw. To express how he made her feel. But her brain had shut off. Everything went dark, except for the concert of sensation he was conducting. Her head resonated with it. She was drunk on it. Her mouth didn’t work.

Zain reached around, cupping her mound, his fingers sliding through and around her folds. She groaned and arched her hips, wiggling her feet a little wider so all of him would fit between her legs.

He moved, sliding out of her and back in. A smooth glide of flesh and latex. It felt as though he stroked into the core of her body, right to her center, and every bit of it stirred up pleasurable feelings.

More.

She wanted it all.

Every inch of him.

His thrusts grew harder, rougher. And she didn’t mind one bit.

Andrea leaned forward, going to her elbows. Her breasts brushed the marble, the coolness intensifying the heat inside of her. She couldn’t look away from his reflection staring at her, as though he were deep inside her soul and not just her body.

His fingers stroked her clit in time with his thrusts. She moaned, a sound totally foreign to her.

She pushed back, meeting his movements, the slick sound of their bodies joining the only other noise besides her. Over and over again he thrust, his hand between her legs guiding her, this thumb pressing her clit, his cock deep inside.

Andrea dropped her head to the counter. Her breasts ached. She cupped them, pressing her palms over her nipples, seeking some sort of relief. Zain growled something deep in his throat and shoved forward until she was braced against the counter top, up on her toes, at his mercy.

He moved in and out of her, relentless, fast, hard until everything blurred together. The spiral of pleasure, the counterpoint of pain where the counter cut into her and the intensity of it coalesced into a euphoric explosion deep in her belly.

She shouted—completely out of control and unlike herself—as the orgasm crested. Her eyes squeezed shut and her toes, now totally off the ground, curled in on themselves. She pressed her hands over her breasts, as though she could hold herself together.

Zain said something that was lost in the sounds of their joining. His fingers dug into her hips as he continued to thrust, each one harder, rougher than the last, until he froze.

She panted, too spent to do more than lie helplessly on the counter, more than half her body on top of the vanity now. Was this why they made them so wide? She’d always wondered why it appeared a Thanksgiving meal could be served on hotel bathrooms. Not that she’d want to eat right here, but she was thankful of someone’s forethought. Without the nice, flat surface, she’d have been on the floor right now, and that would just be awkward.

Zain leaned over her, his warmth seeping into her skin, and kissed her shoulder. She reached blindly for his hand and found it next to her.

“Andrea?”

“No talking.” She wasn’t ready for that.

Instead, she hugged his hand to her chest, content to be sheltered by his body for a few more moments.

He kissed her neck, her cheek and the corner of her mouth, dredging up a smile she didn’t think she had strength to sustain.

“Now I really need a shower,” she mumbled.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Mm.”

He squeezed her to him, neither speaking. What else needed to be said that their bodies hadn’t already communicated?

They stayed like that for several moments, until the chill cooled her heated skin.

Zain moved first, pushing them both to their feet, still clutching her tightly to his chest. She felt him slip from inside her and saw the wince on his face. Still, he didn’t let go of her.

There was something new in the way he looked at her. Something deeper, more meaningful, but she didn’t have the words for it.

“Mind if I join you for that shower?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

She turned in his embrace.

“I’m sorry about—”