Page 33 of Tormented Hearts

The fire crackled beside them, forgotten. The sunrise kept burning gold over the ridgeline, also forgotten.

When he finally broke away, just far enough to breathe, his forehead rested against hers, and for a second neither of them said anything at all.

“I must taste like berries,” she said after a heartbeat.

“I must taste like stroganoff.” His eyes narrowed with an edge of playfulness. “You sure you can handle that, Miss Vegetarian?”

Her lips curved. “Let me try again and see.”

Chapter Seven

Hawk bit off a low growl and pulled Sinead into his lap in one fluid motion, closing his hands around her hips because he woke up beside her aching to do exactly this.

She moved willingly, straddling him, her knees pressing into the ground on either side of his thighs.

The kiss didn’t break—it deepened and turned messier, hungrier, as if they were still arguing, but their desire was doing the talking.

He sank his hand into her hair, threading his fingers through the strands and he rumbled a sound against her mouth. Rough. Involuntary. Torn loose from whatever control he’d been running on since the moment someone took a shot at her.

“You smell like—” He pulled away just far enough to drag his mouth along her delicate jaw, her throat, breathing her in to commit the feel of her to memory.

Whatever he meant to say dissolved into another sound, lower this time, when she rocked her hips against him.

His cargo pants were already restrictive, but the soft feel of her body pressed into him tested the limitations of his zipper.

“Like what?” she managed on a breathless gasp. He slipped his mouth toward the pulse point on her throat, and her fingers tightened in his hair.

“Doesn’t matter.” He found her mouth again and claimed it, harder this time. He slid his hands from her hips to the small of her back, pressing her closer because there wasn’t enough contact between them.

“Just don’t stop,” she gasped into his mouth.

He had no intention of stopping.

She rolled her hips again, slow and deliberate, rubbing her pussy against his very apparent bulge. His gut gripped in response, and a low groan rumbled out of his chest and straight into hers.

She answered with a soft coo that shattered the grip he’d been clinging to since the ridge. The danger, the job, the fact he was supposed to be protecting her life and not unraveling vanished at the taste of her.

The heat of her.

She raked her fingers over his nape and across his shoulders, her blunt nails scoring enough to snip the last thread of his control.

He lifted her off his lap and lay her down in one fluid move. When he lowered his body over hers, she wrapped her legs around his hips and almost ended him.

They shared a sound, and he pressed into her, grinding. She rubbed back, hips lifting for more, more, more.

With a growl, he plunged his tongue into her sweet mouth and became intoxicated on the flavor of berries. She ran her hands over his back and tugged his shirt out of his pants.

The instant her cool palms hit his skin, he lost it a little, kissing her with a ferocity that she matched with each flip of her tongue. Tearing from the kiss, he worked his way down her jaw and throat again, dipping his head to nuzzle her breasts.

She arched up to meet him as he found the soft rise of her nipple under the cloth of her top and closed his mouth around it.

She bucked, fingers working over his sides. “Hawk!”

He bit down gently and she went wild, curling toward him, seeking so much more.

God, what he wanted to give her right now would make that sunrise look like a cloudy day.

He hovered over her, staring down into her eyes, stormy with want. “You sure?”