Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) (30 page)

She obviously wasn’t listening to him, or
maybe she was and she was responding to his silent plea, because Marissa pulled
his jeans and his boxers down his hips until his cock sprang free, standing at
full attention right in front of her soft, perfect lips.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The look in her eyes told him that he
wasn’t in control here. As much as he would continue to insist that he was, he
wasn’t.

She was.

When she leaned forward, her lips grazing
the head of his cock, her tongue darting out to lap at the bead of pre-cum that
had already formed, Trace feared this would be a world record for him. He had
to take back the reins or he would embarrass himself within seconds of watching
his cock disappear into the moist, hot cavern of her mouth.

Gripping the granite behind him with one
hand, he reached his other hand into her hair, gathering the silky golden
strands between his fingers as he slowly, gently took back the control.

Oh, he’d damn sure let her do this her
way, but the dominant beast inside of him was roaring its ugly head, demanding
to be the one in charge. And he’d let it. He’d let the beast believe what it
wanted, but they both knew the real truth.

This woman, she fucking owned him.

And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do
about it.

Tightening his grip on her hair, ensuring
that he didn’t hurt her, Trace guided her head until his cock disappeared
inside of her mouth.

Damn. She felt so fucking good. Her lips
were soft but firm, her inquisitive tongue trailing over the sensitive
underside of his cock, making his dick throb, his balls ache for more.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he groaned, holding her
hair more firmly. “Your mouth is so fucking good. That’s it, baby, suck me.” Trace
couldn’t hold back the words, needing to ensure she knew that what she was
doing was making him crazy.

He fought the urge to close his eyes,
because he wanted to watch, to witness the heat in her gaze, but the pleasure
was overwhelming. He focused on her mouth, the tentative way she explored his
cock with her lips and tongue and teeth. She was a fucking wet dream, looking
too damned innocent to be on her knees in front of him but so fucking sexy he
was having a hard time breathing.

He watched as his cock slid between her
lips, reveled in the feel of her fingers as they wrapped firmly around the
base, ensuring she didn’t take him too deep. Oh, but he wanted to go deeper. He
wanted to fuck her mouth wildly, to watch as she took him as far as she could.
His entire body broke out in a sweat as he stood there, refusing to give in to
the urge to fuck her mouth harder, deeper. Faster.

“That’s it,” he encouraged her, his voice
trembling with need.

Reaching down, he removed her hand from
around his dick, forced to take matters into his own hands, so to speak. It was
that or he’d come in her sweet mouth long before he wanted to.

“Put your hands on my thighs,” he
instructed. “Don’t move them.”

Marissa did exactly as he told her and the
beast inside of him roared his excitement.

This time, using both of his hands, Trace
cupped her head, holding her firmly as he pressed his hips forward, forcing his
cock deeper but not far enough for him to gag her.

“I’ve dreamed about fucking your mouth,”
he told her, his eyes riveted to his cock sliding past her pretty pink lips.
“Spent many nights jacking off to fantasies just like this. But fuck, this is
so much better than any fantasy, Marissa.”

Trying to hold himself back, Trace forced
his body to go slow, trying to enjoy the gentle suction, the fantastic fucking
friction of her mouth as he slid in and then out, over and over.

Releasing her head, Trace wrapped his hand
around his cock, stopping her from taking him into her mouth once more. “Stick
out your tongue,” he instructed.

When she stuck her tongue out, he gently
pressed the head of his dick to her, then inched upward so that she caressed
the underside with the warmth of her tongue. “Suck my balls, Marissa.”

He watched as her eyes widened briefly. He
had to wonder whether she’d ever done this before with a man. He could pretty
well assume she’d given a blow job because she knew exactly what to do with her
wicked tongue to drive him wild, but clearly she wasn’t used to the play-by-play.

“All the way into your mouth, Marissa.”

Marissa laved his balls with her tongue
before sucking gently, one, then the other, then both at the same fucking time.
Ahh
, hell
. He was in heaven. Pure fucking
heaven.

And he feared if they kept this up, his
legs were going to come right out from under him. When he knew he wasn’t going
to be able to take anymore, he shifted his hips back, pulling away from her
before reaching down and helping her up from the floor.

“We’re going to move this somewhere more
comfortable for both of us.”

With one hand on his dick because he still
wasn’t convinced he wasn’t going to go off like a rocket, Trace took her hand
and led her to the couch.

“I wasn’t finished,” Marissa told him with
a grin.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not, either.”

Marissa wasn’t sure she’d ever been this
worked up. And that was saying something considering how much she had craved
Trace through the years. Hell, the past week had been absolute torture. But
what had happened in his kitchen… Yeah, well, that had been sexy as hell.

She still couldn’t believe it. In the
kitchen. Instigated by …
her
.

Yep.

So freaking sexy.

The way he’d looked at her, she’d nearly
lost her breath, and at one point, maybe her nerve.

Touching him, bringing him pleasure, it
was an intensely satisfying feeling, but her nerves were coiled tight, her
heart beating a rapid rhythm in her chest. The heat she’d seen in his eyes,
compounded by the vulnerability, was nearly her undoing. There for a brief
moment, she’d actually been in complete control.

But now he’d taken the reins and she
wasn’t quite ready to let go of them.

“Lie on the couch,” he said, his voice
gruff.

She’d pretty much do anything he asked.
Without hesitation, Marissa eased onto the couch, lying on her back as she
stared up at Trace. She wasn’t ready for him to turn his attention on her. She
still wanted to touch him, to taste him, to make him lose that hard-won control
he held so tightly to. There, when she’d been on her knees in front of him,
she’d almost pushed him over the edge; she had seen it in his eyes, noticed it in
the way his body had gone rigid.

She was ready to do it again, but he
seemed to be hesitating.

Well, she was tired of waiting.

He was standing beside the couch, within
reach, so she grabbed his thighs and pulled him forward, causing him to
stumble. He laughed as he brought one hand down on the sofa arm behind her head,
the other on the back cushion, obviously his attempt to keep from falling on
top of her. When he was busy trying to keep himself upright, Marissa reached
up, circled his thick, heavy erection with her fist, and brought him right back
to her mouth.

“Fuck!”

His exclamation sent sparks shooting
through her, ricocheting across her nerve endings and slowly settling between
her thighs. She would never get enough of him.

Her hands itched to touch him. Her mouth
watered with the need to taste him. Using every bit of experience she had,
which wasn’t all that much, she knew, Marissa set out with one single goal in
mind. Pleasure him the way he’d pleasured her the night before.

Gripping his cock firmly, she stroked him
at the same time she began sucking him into her mouth. When he began pumping
his hips, forcing himself deeper, she knew she’d won the battle.

“Marissa, baby,” he groaned, a clear
warning. “It’s too much.”

No, it wasn’t enough, but she couldn’t
tell him that. Not at that moment anyway. Using her free hand, she began gently
kneading his balls, reveling in his moans and groans and the way he began to
fuck her mouth as though he couldn’t hold back any longer.

And just when she thought she was going to
send him over the edge, he pulled away.

Completely.

“Hey!” she grumbled with a smile. “That’s
not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” he asked, a sexy,
devilish gleam in his eyes.

He was forcing his jeans and his boxers
down his legs, stepping out of them until he was resplendently naked in front
of her. She was still fully clothed, which she intended to remedy any second
now if he didn’t beat her to the punch.

When she tried to sit up, Trace surprised
her, practically climbing on top of her until their bodies were aligned from
ankle to chest.

“No, you don’t,” he said before crushing
his mouth to hers, his hips pumping as he ground his erection between her
thighs.

Too
many clothes between them
, she thought to herself,
hoping he’d get with the program, because she wanted to feel his naked flesh
against hers.

The kiss ignited into a fireball of
passion and need, their tongues exploring, tasting, while the rest of the world
fell away. The only thing that mattered was the way he searched her mouth, the
way he held her close, practically wrapping himself around her. She wanted
Trace to feel her hunger, understand just how much she needed him.

The ache within her had morphed well
beyond desire and melded into need long ago. And the more time she spent in his
presence, the more she realized what it all meant. This wasn’t merely
attraction. Not on her part anyway. This was…

“I need to be inside you, Marissa,” Trace
said roughly as he pulled back.

The next thing she knew, Trace was sitting
on the couch and she was straddling his lap. His hands gripped the edges of her
T-shirt and pulled it swiftly up and over her head, leaving her clad in only
her bra and her leggings. Thankfully, he managed to remove those in the same
short amount of time, and finally she was once again settled on his lap, her
knees on either side of his hips, his heavy erection pressed intimately between
her legs.

From somewhere—seriously, she had no idea
where—he had produced a condom and sheathed himself with lightning speed.

“Ahhh, fuck,” Trace groaned when she
lowered herself onto him in one ungraceful thrust as she stared down at him.

He was thick and hot, filling her
completely, making her insides zing with pleasure, her body gripping him
tightly as she took him deeper. When he dropped his head back, Marissa lowered
her head and licked his neck, placing hungry kisses across his throat. She
could feel the vibration of his groans against her lips, and it spurred her on.

“Fuck me, Marissa. Fuck me hard.”

Without thinking, Marissa began shifting
her hips, doing her best to give him what he needed. It wasn’t as easy as it
looked, especially with his arms wrapped around her so tightly. He must’ve
realized he was hindering her progress, because his arms loosened and then fell
to his sides. His hands were then on her ass, lifting her slightly as he began
driving himself up into her while she held on to him, her fingernails digging
into his shoulders as she rode him.

“Yes!” she screamed, hoping to encourage
him to go faster, harder, deeper. She needed more. Never wanting that moment to
end as he plied her with pleasure. Her mind was obliterated, all thoughts
fleeing as she focused solely on the intense friction, the glorious heat of his
body inside hers.

But then he was lifting her.

“What are you doing?” she asked on a
chuckle when he stood.

“Need more,” he said, the words coming out
strangled.

Marissa leaned in and kissed him, not
wanting him to stop. She had to hold on because he was then lowering her to the
couch as he hovered over her, still lodged deep inside of her. It was an
awkward position with her practically sitting on the couch—her body folded
nearly in half as he stood over her, his knees pressing into the cushions, her
own knees up near her ears.

“Fuck me,” she begged, no longer worried
about anything more than the pleasure this man could give her. She craved it.

Trace stared down at her, his hands
seeking hers until their fingers were twined together, her arms above her head
as she stared back at him, her upper body pressed into the thick back cushions.

He was thrusting his hips, pounding into
her over and over, all sense of propriety completely lost to them both as they
sought the one thing the other could bring them.

Marissa tried to hold out, not wanting to
break this connection, not willing to let go of this man, but when he released
one of her hands and sought her clit with his fingers, she lost it.

“Oh, God, yes!” she screamed as she
shattered, her entire body feeling as though it had broken into hundreds of
jagged shards, scattered all around.

A final growl and Trace was following her
right over, his eyes locked with hers, and it was in that moment that Marissa
knew … this wasn’t just sex.

It was…

It was everything.