Ultimate Surrender (7 page)

C
assandra walked down the hall
, not stomping, though she wanted to.

But she wouldn’t. Because she wouldn’t risk Lucian seeing her pouting like a spoiled child. Her overreaction had displayed that well enough, thank you very much.

Because Cassandra was in control of herself, and she would not,
not
, give in to the anger that Lucian made her feel.

The attraction either, the fact that she had missed him so much after a short period of time.

When she’d walked into the conference room, seeing him standing tall, graceful, dressed in a starched white button-down shirt and black slacks, a costume to play the part of businessman that only made it more obvious that he was a soldier, her throat had gone dry.

It had taken everything she had not to respond, so in some way she should be grateful for Lucian’s cavalier attitude. At least that had kept her from giving in to that overwhelming desire for him, something that was especially hard when the heat of his gaze on her legs had made her squirm with need.

By the time she had made it to Sloan’s office, she had calmed down enough to speak.

“He still hasn’t signed the papers, so could you please remind him to do so?” she asked.

Sloan’s eyes widened and she sat up a little straighter, which made Cassandra realize how sharp her words had been.

“Sorry, Sloan,” she said.

Sloan shook her head. “No problem. Trouble in paradise so soon? What has our intrepid leader done to you today?”

Cassandra overlooked Sloan’s first statement and narrowed in on the second. “That man never listens!”

“Happens a lot here,” Sloan said with an accepting shrug.

“I’m just trying to help! Trying to do my job. Why does he insist on standing in my way?”

“Part of me is convinced he just wanted to see you get upset. You make the most amusing faces when you do, and they say fighting keeps things fresh,” Sloan said.

Cassandra laughed despite herself. “Why did I come here again?”

“To spill your guts. Confession is good for the soul,” Sloan said.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Clearly because I’m a masochist. You know what? I’m going to go to my office and do actual work,” she said.

“I’m here if you want to chat,” Sloan said, not at all deterred.

Cassandra chuckled again and then went back to her office and settled at her desk, hoping work would keep her mind occupied.

The blaring of her cell phone brought her out of her moment and she glanced at her watch, quickly realizing it had been a couple of hours since she’d returned from her showdown with Lucian.

“Hello?” she said after she picked up the phone.

She didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t uncommon, because she never knew where one of the guys would contact her from or when an old friend from her government days would reach out.

“Hello?” Cassandra said again.

She hung the phone up quickly and then put it back on her desk. It wasn’t uncommon for her to get telemarketing calls and random hangups because she made no secret about her contact information.

She shifted in her seat and began to roll her shoulders, trying to stretch out the long-unused muscles, but a moment later she stood, stretched, and then decided it was time for a drink.

It was well after three, far too late for tea, but Cassandra had several more hours of work yet, and the drink would give her the boost she needed to get through the afternoon.

She turned down the hall and walked the couple dozen feet to the break room.

When she saw the combination tea-coffee machine, she smiled.

That machine brewed a perfect cup every time, and she always said a little prayer of thanks for Sloan having the good taste to pick it out and for Lucian paying for it.

As her tea brewed, she leaned against the counter and waited. The office was quiet, but that wasn’t uncommon either.

Silver took up three stories of the building, but only she, Lucian, and Sloan worked here consistently. The guys dropped in on the occasion when they needed an office, but the bulk of the staff worked on the other two floors.

It was funny because the floor would be dead silent in the afternoon, but there had been more than a few two a.m. meetings where the break room had been stuffed to the gills with every manner of soldier.

This afternoon was one of those quiet ones, so Cassandra stood, thinking about what she would do after work, when she heard footsteps approaching. She stood up straight, girding herself for whatever Lucian might bring her.

She knew it was him. She didn’t know how, but she was always aware of his presence, even when he was silent, which he usually was, though Sloan often made a fuss about how the guys sneaking up on them scared them.

When he turned and entered the break room she stood up straight, at the ready.

“Getting your tea?” he asked.

She wondered why Lucian was asking about something so mundane. In the years they’d worked together, he’d never made that kind of observation, treating her with distance when he wasn’t directly contravening her.

“So, Cassie—Cassandra,” he said, walking closer to her.

Even more surprising. He relished calling her that name, so she’d never heard him correct himself of his own volition, which was a concession in itself. Though she disliked it, there was something special about it coming from him, a little sign of the intimacy between them, a connection she found herself missing.

“What’s up, Lucian?” she asked, wary but also concerned at the change in his behavior.

He locked eyes with her and said, “I’m sorry. About earlier—I was out of line.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry, too. I overreacted.”

“Well, having dinner with me tonight would be a good way to make it up to me,” he said, his hands tucked in his pockets as he watched her.

“You asking me out, Silver?” she said.

“Trying to,” he replied. “What’s your answer?”

She covered the two steps between them, stood on tiptoe, and brushed her lips across his. Then she stared up into dark blue eyes that glittered with promise.

“I’d love to,” she said.

“Dinner is served,” Lucian said later that night, presenting the tall glass to her with a flourish.

Cassandra crinkled her eyes and looked down at the glass and then back up at Lucian. “Is that orange juice?” she asked.

He nodded shortly, his face turned up in a smile. “Yup. Got it fresh for you. Told you that was my specialty,” he said.

Cassandra reached for the glass and took a sip before she set it down and chuckled. The laughter died in her throat when she looked at Lucian, his dark blue eyes glittering with desire.

“Looks like you’re done with dinner,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.

Cassandra nodded and pushed the glass away. “I’ve had my fill,” she said.

Lucian’s eyes glinted. “Not yet, but it’s still early,” he said.

The next thing Cassandra knew she was lifted into Lucian’s arms and crushed against his chest. She giggled but didn’t protest as he carried her through his sleek penthouse apartment and deposited her in the middle of the biggest bed she’d ever seen.

He watched Cassandra as she quickly took in the surroundings. Lucian followed her gaze until, after she’d looked around the entire room, she rested her gaze on him. For a moment, Lucian simply stared at her, and though she was fully clothed, the sight of Cassandra in his bed, eyes dark liquid pools of desire as she blinked up at him, waiting, was enough to have his full attention and his body on the verge of exploding.

He gripped his hands into tight fists and pushed out a breath. He’d waited for this time with her for he couldn’t remember how long, and he wouldn’t waste this experience by letting it pass too quickly. He would enjoy every single moment of this, make sure that she enjoyed every single moment of it, and he would start right now.

He took off his buttoned collared shirt and kicked out of his shoes, and then began to step toward Cassandra.

“T-shirt too, please,” she said.

He looked down at her still watching him and laughed.

“So demanding,” he said.

“Not demanding, just consider it a friendly request by a guest,” she said.

“Any particular reason for this request?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head.

A surge of prideful desire hit him when Cassandra stared at his chest, eyes brimming with admiration.

Then she sat up and crawled toward him, the intensity in her eyes, the shape of her body as she approached, enough to drive him to distraction.

When she reached the edge of the bed, she stood up on her knees, centering her head at the middle of his chest, and a moment later she leaned closer, placed a soft kiss on his pec, and then laid her hand flat against his stomach.

She kissed him again, her pillow-soft lips moving across his warm skin, leaving a trail of passionate fire, her fingers curled against his skin doing the same.

On instinct he reached up, cupped the back of her head, and simply waited, the little tremors running through his body at her touch pleasant, intense reminders of what it would be like to touch more of her.

She stretched up against him, her soft breasts pressed against his midsection as she began to kiss along his collarbone, and that was what he needed to keep them moving.

He stepped away, smiled at her frown, but then guided her until she lay on her back, her legs edging off the bed. It was a beautiful sight, Cassandra’s short skirt exposing more than half of her thighs, and with his gaze focused on that amazing sight, Lucian removed her shoes and then sculpted his hands up the long length of her legs to her waist.

He made quick work of unbuttoning her skirt and hooked his fingers in the waistband and pantyhose underneath, leaving her underwear intact.

Cassandra, cooperative for once, lifted her hips and allowed him to slide both skirt and stockings down over her curvy thighs and lower over her knees, down, and off.

Lucian paused, gazed at her, the rich darkness of her skin contrasting with the soft beige of her panties.

But when Cassandra reached for him, he responded, and pausing to entwine his fingers with hers, he grabbed one calf and kissed it, her satin skin, soft flesh, and muscle an amazing contrast that Lucian wouldn’t ever get enough of. Cassandra laughed when he nipped at her knee.

“Ticklish?” he asked.

“A little,” she responded as he again kissed the crook of her knee.

He didn’t linger there, but was amazed and excited about the prospect of knowing something so intimate about Cassandra, knowing what she liked, that she was ticklish behind her adorable knees.

He moved up, the heat and intoxicating scent of her got stronger as he approached her center. But he moved as slowly as he possibly could, reveling in kissing the soft yet strong expanse of her thigh, up and over the curve of her hip. He nipped at the waistband of her underwear with his teeth and then went down, sticking out his tongue to trace the line that separated her leg from her core.

When he was centered, he paused and breathed deep, taking in huge lungfuls of her intoxicating scent. Then he pressed a soft kiss against her cloth-covered mound.

Then he kissed her again, and again, worked his tongue against the fabric, where he could feel her juices coating the material as they would his tongue.

Cassandra alternately squirmed and went tense beneath his tongue, the idea of her responding so passionately to his touch urging him on even stronger.

He kissed her again, but this time he let go of her hand and moved both of his up her thighs to hook his fingers in her panties.

Again helpful, she lifted and he pulled her underwear down, smiling when he had to peel the soaked material away from her. He pushed the panties down her legs and off, pleased when he could finally see her manicured pussy, the trim hair matted with her cream.

He moved forward, but instead of going directly for the treasure that awaited him, he kissed her lower stomach, smoothed one hand up her thigh to squeeze, and then began to work his way down, kissing the skin on the top of her mound, the smooth skin and crisp hair contrasting against his lips.

Then he went lower, trailed his lips against hers, covering every millimeter of her labia.

She squirmed harder now, so he anchored his arm across her waist and then nudged his lips against her center.

Her labia spread, revealing just a peek of the soft, damp inside, so he did it again, revealing more as he worked her open.

Unable to resist any longer, his own cock throbbing, the need to taste her overwhelming, Lucian lowered his tongue and pushed it inside her.

The sweet, musky taste that was Cassandra skated across his tongue and had his cock throbbing even harder.

It was the most intense, most wonderful thing he had ever tasted, and her heavy dew wetting his tongue only made his desire that much more intense.

He let go of her hand and added a finger to the fray, his thumb hovering over her clit before he gently stroked it.

She bucked against him, and he pushed down, teasing her clit with his thumb and then taking over with his tongue.

He grunted as he pushed a finger in and out of her, mesmerized by her low, throaty moans. Her pussy was soaking wet now, the inside of her thighs, his face all coated with the proof of her desire, but Lucian wouldn’t stop, couldn’t until he made her come.

He whispered that command to her. “Come for me, Cass.”

As he spoke he blew on her clit, slicked his tongue over the hard nub. The second he made contact with her, she arched and then cried out, her entire body tense with her climax, her body growing ever wetter with the cream that flowed from her freely.

He continued to lap at her, unable to get enough, but soon the insistent problem of his own arousal became too much to ignore.

Lucian kissed his way up her body, taking Cassandra’s shirt with him.

She helped him remove the garment and then quickly removed her bra, revealing her full, round breasts, the dark tips hard, protruding as he watched her.