Sweet Seduction Shield (31 page)

I tasted me. I
tasted him. And I loved it.

He started to
rock his hips, holding my head stationary, controlling the depth he
entered my mouth. He didn't push too far, but with one flick of my
eyes up to his face I could see him watching me. Testing. Learning.
Deciding what I did and didn't like.

I rolled his
sac around in my hand, sucked hard and pulled against his grip in
my hair until I felt him right at the back of my throat.

"Oh, you like
that, do you?" he said, an almost devilish delight in each word.
"How fast, Marie? How much can you take?"

I made a
humming sound, receiving a groan that seemed to originate in his
chest. He shifted his feet further apart, as though getting himself
into position for a major event. And maybe it was, it certainly
felt a little epic to me. He was so thick and hard again. So soon
after the most mind blowing sex I'd ever had, and here he was ready
to fuck my mouth. The bad boy in Ryan Pierce had been let out.

And I loved
it.

From the
moment I'd laid eyes on him in my office at work, I'd recognised
something dark under his skin. Behind the intense brown eyes,
disguised by clothing and formality, hidden beneath his role as a
cop. But the goatee beard hinted at it. The way his eyes had
undressed me as I stood up from beneath that desk. The fact that he
couldn't stop touching me, found excuses to do so, and when he
realised he was stepping over his well defined rules, he simply
kept going.

He'd hesitated
tonight. But not because he'd changed his mind or reconsidered.
He'd paused to make sure I was on the same page as him. Wanted this
as much as he did and for the right reasons. Despite whatever it
was about this house that haunted him and made him reach with
pleading eyes, begging to get lost in me and forget. He'd taken the
time to make sure I was OK, that I was all right. That I wasn't
doing something I would regret.

Ryan would
always look out for me. Protect me from harm, in whatever form it
could be found. Even if it was found in him.

He pulled
back, allowing me to answer his questions. Making sure, again, that
I was on board with his wicked plans.

"Don't stop,"
I whispered, reaching for him. "I want everything you've got."

His hands
stroked through my hair, cupping my head and tilting it upwards,
and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. A tongue
tangling taste explosion. A show of his devotion, his desire, his
thanks.

When he stood
upright again he let me take him, my lips sealing tightly around
his circumference, as my hands rested on each of his hips, holding
myself steady.

His hands
fisted in my hair again, waited a beat for me to find my pace, and
then he rasped, "I like it fast and deep. Got that, Tiger?"

I smiled
around him, nodded my head, and licked across the tip of his cock,
tasting that enticing pre-come, making a growl of my own emit from
the back of my throat.

"You like that
too," he whispered, a sense of awe in his words. "I think you may
have been made for me."

I hummed my
agreement and that must have been the signal for the brakes to come
off. He never went so far I couldn't handle it. Obviously watching
every minute reaction I made. But he did fuck my mouth fast and
deep, fully controlled by him right up to the end.

The sounds he
made were a wet dream. Like the road map to his body, I filed them
away for future need. If this all ended tomorrow, I would have
memories to last the rest of my life. Delicious, debauched,
decadent memories of a protective and possessive man losing himself
in my body.

With panting breath and a slight hitch in his rhythm he came
with another one of those sweet, sexy grunts. Coating my tongue,
rolling down my throat. His legs shaking, his hands in my hair
trembling, and his beautiful cock softening as it slid from my
lips.

I was no
longer thirsty.

But I was
incredibly turned on.

Ryan coming is
a provocative sight to see.

He breathed
heavily, standing before me, his hand slowly stroking through my
hair, his eyes locked on mine.

They said,
fuck
, and
thank you
, and
you were made for
me
.

My eyes replied with
wow
,
and
you are so hot
, and
right back at you
.

"Go turn the
shower on," he whispered, voice both rough and sweet. "I'll check
on Daisy."

I watched him
grab his jeans and slip them on, and then walk out of the room, all
the while a soft smile coated my lips.

Then I got up
and crossed to the attached bathroom. And yes, that was a light
skip in my step.

The soft smile
became a sunbeam.

He was gone
longer than I thought necessary, but no sound of disturbance came
from the rest of the house, so I put his delay in return down to a
security check. Something I could imagine Ryan performing even if
he was still recovering from out-of-this-world sex.

The shower
began to fill the room with steam as I stared at myself in the
mirror. I'd only switched on the halogen lights above the sink, so
the rest of the room was coated in golden glowing mist and little
else. But the illumination over the mirror was more than
enough.

He'd marked
me. On my neck, where he'd suckled with ever increasing pressure.
My fingers ran over the bruise, remembering the way he slowly sped
things up; measured, purposeful, completely controlled. He knew
exactly what he was doing. Increasing the pull on my skin,
heightening the tingles that spread out from my neck and ran down
the length of my body, all the while ramping up the thrusts of his
hips in a way that accelerated my heart rate and made my breath
come in pants.

I'd never been
with anyone who consciously seduced my body and mind while having
sex. It wasn't just the physical sensations he'd elicited, it was
the knowledge that he'd had a plan. A slow, inexorable increase in
speed and pressure, designed to entice, to entrap, and to finally
envelope every sense I had. Physical. Mental. Every part of me.

If I hadn't
already fallen in love with this man, the part of me that loved
order, that loved a complicated but perfectly balanced approach to
life, would have been bewitched by what he'd just done.

Of course, to
him it might have just been simple sex. But I was not a simple
person, and even if how he'd made love to me had been only a
natural action to him, I'd still greedily take it. Maybe, he was
just naturally perfect for me.

And maybe I
was getting a little too starry eyed. I shook my head. We were
hiding from bad guys in a house that made Ryan fall apart, and I
was romanticising the moment. Not that making love to Ryan didn't
have its own share of romance, but I needed to remember why we were
here.

I turned to
step into the shower and there he was, leaning against the door
frame, arms crossed over his chest, watching me. Again.

"How long have
you been there?" I asked, stunned I hadn't heard him approach.

"Long
enough."

"And you just
watched?"

He nodded.
"You're quite a sight." A smile curved his lips. "What were you
thinking?"

I let a slow
breath of air out and flicked my eyes to the shower, still steaming
the room up and coating my skin in fine droplets of warm water.

"Come on," he
urged, undoing the top button of his jeans and starting to remove
them. "You can tell me what got that pensive look on your face, so
soon after the contented one, in the shower."

Ah, he'd been
there a while then.

"How was
Daisy?" I asked, trying to deflect as I stepped under the shower
spray. Ryan joined me shortly after, his hands immediately going to
my shoulders, then running seductively down my back and over my
hips.

I glanced at
him over my shoulder. His eyes were mesmerised again, caught in a
trap watching the water trickle down my spine.

"Fast asleep,"
he said, almost distractedly.

"What took you
so long?"

"I'd forgotten
to put the car away. There's a garage around the side. It needs to
be out of sight."

I hadn't thought of the car being visible and immediately I
was utterly relieved to have someone else shoulder the weight of
survival for me. There was something almost magical about knowing
Ryan would always do everything in his power to protect us.
Something I have
never
experienced
before. It's always been on me to keep us safe. No one else would
or could. But Ryan Pierce, he wasn't like anyone else. He was an
experienced cop, one who had obviously done this sort of thing
before; protection of a witness. Hadn't he said he was the best at
this sort of thing? How did one get to be the best at
this?

I turned to
face him, his eyes darted up to my face, then straight back down to
my breasts and stayed there. His hands kept running up and down my
sides, seeking that tactile touch he seemed unable to deny himself
when near me.

I wasn't sure if now was the time to ask questions, but I
couldn't help myself. He might have looked like the one captivated,
but I think Ryan was a puzzle I couldn't turn away from. Like my
previous desire to straighten ornaments on a shelf, I
needed
to work him out.

"Why did you
become a cop?"

His eyes came back up to mine, an intensity there I was
getting accustomed to. When Ryan looked at you,
really
looked at you, the rest of the world
fell away.

"It's a long
story," he said softly, the sound of the water falling around us
almost drowning his words out.

"Can you tell
me?"

He didn't
answer straight away, just stood there looking into my eyes and
breathing too deeply. I had a feeling that this was all tied up in
whatever it was about this house that made him crumble. I reached
forward and ran my hand over his collarbone, feeling his shoulders
relax as soon as my skin touched his. With my free hand I picked up
the soap and poured some into my cupped palm, then returned to
smother his skin in suds.

I concentrated
on my task while he battled his demons. He was either ready to tell
me or not. I'd wait. Besides, washing Ryan was not an unenjoyable
pastime.

By the time
I'd managed one complete sweep of his upper chest and stomach his
breathing had regulated, becoming more of a lazy, sleepy inhalation
and exhalation.

"You're good
at this," he murmured. His eyes had closed and he was slowly
rocking back and forward under my touch.

"Good at
relaxing you?"

His lips
tipped up in a smile. "Good at distracting me."

"Distraction
is
good." He
laughed, beautiful brown eyes dancing when he looked back down at
me.

"I became a
cop because I needed to."

My hand
stilled, only for a moment, before starting up my gentle massage
again.

"Why?"

"Justice."

"But justice
is not law." I pointed out his early statement.

"No, it's not.
But I didn't know that at the time." I flicked my eyes up to his,
knowing what I'd see before I saw it, even if I didn't know why it
would be there.

Pain.

"Did you find
it?" I asked. "Justice, I mean."

"Yes." Nothing
more, just that one word, spoken with such determination.

"Turn around,"
I murmured, and once he obeyed my soft command I began to smooth
soapy liquid over his glorious back and shoulders. "Tell me
more."

He drew in a
long, deep breath and then let it out slowly. His body was still
tight, but with each stroke of my hands across his flesh it
released a little of its tension. My heart ached for whatever made
this man so taut. For whatever put such sorrow on his handsome
face.

"I was adopted," he said from nowhere. "My adoptive parents
gave me the Pierce name and a good, loving home. They couldn't have
kids, I was their one and only chance at parenthood. They never hid
that I was adopted, always made sure I knew they
chose
me."

Another deep
breath in and then slowly out.

"But when I
turned eighteen I felt compelled to find out who gave me away and
why. My adoptive parents never denied me their support in my quest,
even if it hurt them. I don't know if it did, they hid any
emotional reaction from me. But being young and naive and full of
self-righteous indignation I powered on in my search."

He stopped
then, head hanging low, eyes cast to the shower stall floor. I kept
up my massage, softly soapy him up and then wiping the suds away.
Offering what comfort I could through my touch.

"I don't
regret finding my biological mother. I just wish..." He sounded
pained again, my heart clenched tightly in my chest.

I turned him
'round to face me with soft but firm pressure on his shoulders and
back. He wouldn't look at me when he made it chest to chest again.
So I stepped forward and slipped under his chin and arms, wrapping
myself around his frame and holding on tight. It took a stunned
second and then he enveloped me in his embrace, resting his cheek
on top of my head.

"Marie," he
said, my name a soft prayer above my head.

"Shhh," I
crooned. "You don't have to tell me."

"But I do," he
whispered. "You need to know why I understand." Understand?

I wanted to
pull back and look at his face, see what his eyes told me. But he
tightened his grip, securely locking me in place against his heart.
His hand even coming up, and pushing my cheek into his chest, right
where I could hear his heartbeat.