Trained for Seduction (21 page)

“Yes,” she whispered against his neck. She clamped her thighs against his and lifted her hips in invitation, beckoning him to drive harder. “Can I come? Please?”

“Already?”

“Yes.”

Chase slowed his thrusts to languid strokes that wouldn’t be more than a breath across the hot coals of her orgasm. Just enough to keep the flame interested but not enough to start an inferno.

Control. Even now, making love to her, so vanilla an ice cream cone would be excited, he needed control. With each thrust, he realized Jake was right. He needed control, needed a little kink, especially now.

He didn’t want to take her to the dark side. Not her last time with him. He stilled and trembled a bit, his mind fighting for a way to make both sides of him, the Dominant and the man, complete.

He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “No.”

No?

Kate’s mind screamed at him, because really, she wanted to come. Now, hard, screaming his name in six languages. The forced play had been too exciting, his gentle words touching, and her love for him overwhelming. Now, she wanted to shatter around his cock and have him hold her because that was her favorite part of sex—when he held her.

She trembled and breathed around the orgasm, quelling it by relaxing her inner muscles, which was difficult because each stroke he took butted the head of his cock straight into her G-spot. Her hands gripped the edge of the couch—it was hard to grip leather. Instead, she found the folds of his shirt and clenched the hem, then pressed her knuckles to his hips, trying to urge him faster.

“A woman can have many orgasms, you know. I could come for you now and then again, later.” She echoed the words he’d used right before he’d taken her virginity because they’d excited the hell out of her. They might work for him.

“Are you trying to make a deal with the devil?” His lips curved into a smile against her neck.

“Just justifying my position.”

“I like this position,” he murmured in her hair, kissing her ear. One hand stole over to her breast, and he cupped the flesh, massaging, kneading, then finally tweaking a nipple in that special way of his that sent shocks of electricity through every limb, straight to her pussy, around his cock.

She swallowed, the lazy tempo of his hips driving her crazy. Not enough pound for her to come on her own, but enough to keep her orgasm at bay, still interested, lurking like the devil might lurk when seeking souls to steal. Damn him.

She changed tactics and whispered in Chinese, “I want to scream your name in six languages, sir.”

He laughed. He rarely laughed like this, one straight from his gut, one of pure joy. And it seemed odd, yet right, since he should find joy in making love to her.

“You want to come badly, don’t you?” he whispered when he was done laughing at her.

“Yes.”

He stopped thrusting, and she groaned in frustration, sure he meant to kill her slowly with passion. He reached over to the coffee table and fumbled, then came back with her MP3 player. He scrolled through the songs and popped an ear bud in one of his ears, the other in hers.

“You asked once why I don’t listen to music. It’s because my mind is always on, working, and music makes me lose control of my thoughts. My edge. The same way I hate to drink. I become fuzzy and lose that constant stream of information. I should hate sex for the same reason, but I’m a smart man.”

She blinked, hanging on his words in the same way she hung onto her orgasm. He never talked, not about himself. He never let her in.

“You gave me a song you wanted to fuck me to earlier. This song is one I heard you sing the other day, in the shower, and it made me ache to make love to you. I’m going to make love to you to this song, and when it’s done, you can come with me. Okay?”

She nodded, unable to keep from staring as he smiled softly at her, his emotions for once visible. Lust mingled with something else, something she’d never seen, something that made her breath catch and her heart skip a beat. He cared. More than he wanted to admit.

He pushed play. Music filled her ears, one of her favorite songs that started slow and built at the chorus before it came to a crashing finish. Her pussy clenched with anticipation. Oh, yes, she’d love to make love to him to this song.

“Just lie still for this part,” he coaxed. He kissed her slowly, his mouth caressing, soft, just like the music, his hips marking time to the tempo, just as slow, soft. Her hips wanted to drive upward, to urge him on, but she followed his command, the stillness as erotic as if she’d rode him to oblivion.

The music began to build toward the first chorus, and she sucked in a breath, hoping he’d let her come early. Her forehead became damp as she concentrated, each breath designed to cool the flames he fed with each stroke. He pumped a little faster, and she answered, needing release.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Be still.”

He dove in a little harder, faster, his cock stroking hot heat deep inside, in perfect time to the music. She bit her lip and fought the urge, one hand finding a light blanket on the back of the couch, the other fisted in his shirt. She wanted to clench those inner muscles and come, but she gritted her teeth and went to the periodic table again, starting at the bottom with the newer elements.

“Good girl,” he whispered as the music slowed. “You’re learning control, too. What are you thinking, to keep from coming?”

“That arsenic is an element on the periodic table.” She wanted to come more than she wanted to kill him, though.

“Shh. Listen.” He smiled again, his thrusts again slow, leisurely. He sang in her ear, the words so soft she almost missed them, his voice beautiful, just as she thought it would be. She’d never heard him sing, not even in the shower, when he was alone.

Then the music built again, and she held her breath, waiting, shaking, every pore in her skin on alert with need. The chorus would be sung twice. Would he let her go on the second? He pounded a little harder, the tempo building, his cock conducting heady music inside her wet heat.

“You ready, love?”

“Yes,”

“Come with me.”

The music thrashed around her as slammed her hips upward, meeting his, driving him harder. Their lips met, hard, needy, the kiss echoing the passion in the aching lyrics, the drive of the instruments. She sang in her mind, breathless to follow along, and when the singer hit that last, high note, she shattered like crystal vibrated under just the right frequency.

She dug her fingers into his ass, holding him deeper as the sound waves vibrated inside of her with each clench of her pussy walls. Her poor toes cramped, and her thighs ached as she held him, her stomach quivering as the pleasure died down, in time with the last strains of the music.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing like a dragon along her neck. He must have pushed stop, because the music ended instead of rolling to the next piece. And then he held her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders, his weight bearing down, pinning her, making her feel complete.

“Well?” he asked after a long time, when he could finally breathe somewhat normally.

“I’d rather listen to your playlists than Jake’s. He just has music to kick my ass to. Nothing as beautiful as this.”

“If you were Jake’s, he’d have a playlist to fuck you by.”

She blinked and looked up at him. He didn’t look jealous—just sated. Relaxed, yet in control. As if commanding her though the song, making her come on his direction had been enough to keep the control freak in him just as sated. “I would rather have your playlist.”

He smiled down at her, and the flicker he failed to hide in his eyes was something deeper than he’d ever shown. Something that made her feel that he cared desperately whose playlist she wanted to hear. “I can compromise. I know you like music. We could surf through and find a playlist we both like, for when the mood hits us.”

“I’d like that.” She shifted and realized she was damper than usual after sex. Maybe that’s why it felt so incredible. Different. “We didn’t use a condom.”

“No.”

“Do I need to worry?”

He hesitated. “No. I’ve never had sex without a condom before. My wife wanted to use them, so we always did. And I haven’t had sex in a long time. I’m clean.”

“How long?”

He looked at her then, and she watched emotions flicker, the truth dart back and forth as he batted it around. And then the mask fell and shut her out. “Longer than you think.”

He lowered his head and held her tighter. She wanted to press him because somehow, that truth was important to him. To her. She hesitated. Earlier he had wanted her to hate him, yet here they were, basking in the best lovemaking ever, talking about playlists to fuck by in the future.

It scared her. Deep inside, she sensed the last thing he wanted was for her to hate him. If she were to take a huge leap, across a canyon, she would conclude he wanted to love her, just as much as she wanted to love him.

Whatever drove him to such lengths, to make him beg her to hate him, had to be horrible. Maybe the devil was bent on destruction after all.

The next morning, Kate entered Chase’s office and sat in a chair, taking him in as he finished a phone call. So dark and dangerous, that mask secure over his emotions as he firmly directed whoever was on the other end to get their shit together and get it done. She saw glimpses of this man at home, in the bedroom. He didn’t take no for an answer. He didn’t take prisoners. He didn’t allow anyone to be mediocre, he wanted the best.

She loved this man, too.

Kate glanced away, afraid he’d see her mooning over him. He wouldn’t appreciate that, not after he’d asked her time and time again to hate him. But finally, she would learn about her assignment, and it scared her. She wasn’t sure if she had what it took to get this done, whatever it was.

But the sooner she found out, the sooner it would all be over, and they could just return to being themselves. She didn’t believe for one minute he could make her hate him. Jake went out all the time, so did Charlotte, she assumed. Neither hated him. Why should it be any different for her?

But he was touchy that way, and she saw it as a shield, a part of his disguise. If he blocked her now, warned her now… All part of the mask because the man behind it didn’t feel he was worthy enough to have her love.

He ended the call and sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. The same hand that had been inside her pussy last night. She shivered slightly thinking of the pleasure he’d given her, then centered herself. She had to be serious. This was it. She’d find out what bothered him so much about this stupid mission. Hopefully, he’d tell her and then he’d relax.

“Kate.” He removed his hand from his chocolate brown eyes, and a small tremor of fear raced through her body, the same she’d experienced when she had seen him the first time with Jake, the day before their birthday. It was if he’d never made love to her, held her. That man was gone.

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you alone, first, before you’re briefed about the details by the masses.”

“Okay.”

“First, Jake is going with you.”

“Good.” She didn’t want to go alone. Knowing Jake was going, too, eased her fear.

“The target is Zareh Sharan.”

“The man from the file you showed me before.” Chase nodded, and she asked, “Why is he named after an Afghani town?”

“Who knows? Anyway, you’ll get more information on that part later.” Chase folded his hands, and Kate remembered something Jake once joked about. When Chase folded his hands, it meant the hounds of hell would be unleashed. She stared at his hands, fear swirling in her stomach.

“Our first objective is to get you into the compound where the target resides. You and Jake will pretend to be lovers, having a picnic and a little something else just at the border of their compound. Hopefully, they’ll be easy on the trigger and decide to take you for questioning rather than shoot first.”

She dragged her gaze from his hands and forced herself to meet his eyes. This is why Jake had been so handsy, kissy lately. Chase knew, the bastard. Jake knew, too, and he had been priming her for this. They both knew. “Why?”

“Why what?” Chase looked confused, even a little shocked that she’d question him.

“Why not just offer to sell him something. I could set him up with devices that would make his little terrorist heart overjoyed. Nuclear weapons, regular bombs, chemical warfare…what’s his pleasure?”

His hard gaze glittered. “His pleasure right now happens to be white, blonde women in their twenties.”

Chase’s words sunk in and the horror dawned. My God, that’s why they were so hot to have Chase fuck her. “So I get to go be his new pleasure?”

Chase shook his head. “I’m trying very hard to avoid that, which is why I want you and Jake to go in this way. You and Jake have a picnic, they pick you up after you show them exactly how hot you can be, and they eventually take you to their boss.”

How hot you can be…

Another part of her died a little inside. She knew it was part of her job and they would ask her to seduce someone eventually, but Chase said it with such composure, like he didn’t give a shit if she fucked an army, let alone his best friend or a madman.

“Still. You took my virginity knowing this.”

He stared at her a long moment, every inch the cold bastard, and chose to ignore her. “Once you’re inside, things get tricky. They will know who Jake is by then, that he’s a spy, so he will be stuck wherever they put him. But you we need to get into the target’s private quarters, his bedroom, preferably.”

His bedroom. “And then you want me to sleep with the madman, too.”

Chase looked her dead in the eye, and she didn’t like what she saw. Steel resolve. All boss. “You’ll do what you need to do to get the bomb planted.”

She glanced away, her heart shrinking. Feeling small. Used. “So how do I get from point A to point B?”

“To gain the objective, Jake will stage a lover’s quarrel with you, and hopefully, the guards will take you directly to safety and into the arms of our target. This target’s mother was killed by his abusive father. We’re hoping if Jake roughs you up a bit, he’ll take pity on you and you’ll end up where the bomb needs to be—his living area. It also helps that you are the type of woman this target falls hard for. He’s a sex addict, and he hasn’t been able to stay underground very long because of his sexual needs.”