Page 91 of Locked and Loaded

He thrust his thigh tighter against her seam as he stared at her chest. “You have the prettiest tits,” he told her. He pressed a kiss to one tip, licked his way to the other, and pressed a kiss to that one as well. All the while, he kneaded her ass. “Though, I bet I’ll like what I see between your legs even better. Want me to check?” He dragged one hand to her flat abdomen, and slipped lower, seeking the heat that hid below the springy hair, until he found the dripping opening.

Lennox rocked her hips hard, as if seeking to draw his finger inside.

He paused his searching digit, and shifted until he could grip the waistband of her cotton trousers, and yanked them down. Then he kissed his way south on her quivering abs. At least desire had replaced exhaustion. He propped her hips on his palms and lifted her pelvis until it was mouth-level. He blew softly along her glistening seam, and stared at the pink flesh. He cast his eyes up, along her body to find she’d propped herself up on her elbows and was watching his every move.

He licked his lips. “I was right. You are beautiful here.” To emphasize where ‘here’ was, he slipped his finger inside while his thumb caressed her clit.

She groaned and dropped her head back to the pillows.

And Dragan got busy. He became a flurry of fingers, teeth, tongue, suction… giving her everything he thought she needed to get where he wanted her to go.

He thrust his tongue into her sheath at the same time he trailed one finger over the puckered hole between her ass cheeks.

Her body tensed, her breath shortened, but she gasped. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” Her knees tightened around his ears.

He continued his assault on her body, dipping two fingers in and out of her sheath, biting and sucking her clit, until her body stiffened and went still. A moment later, a squeak burst from her throat, and she rocked her hips violently against his face.

He continued fucking her with his fingers and tongue, drawing out the massive orgasm that claimed her. Once he felt her body sag toward the mattress, he gentled his intruding fingers and planted kisses on her skin as he released her hips and climbed up her body.

He shifted to one side of her, and landed on his side, gathering her close to his body, one arm under her shoulders, the other hand resting on her left breast, willing his own body to relax. Beneath his palm, her pulse raced for a long time, then steadied, then finally slowed to the point he knew she slept.

And he held her for the rest of the night, knowing he’d helped her settle, but he’d also only escalated his emotions to the point where he recognized what he felt.

He was falling for Lennox.

And that scared the daylights out of him more than the situation with Chloe and whoever wanted to take down the Society.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Lennox woke to the sound of a zipper.

Not her zipper. The sound was too deliberate, too efficient, the kind of fast metallic rasp that belonged to someone who had already been awake for a while and was now moving through a checklist. She blinked against the light filtering through the tent walls, the red velvet glowing.

For a moment she didn't know where she was. The air smelled of sandalwood and something sharper underneath, something clean and chemical that she recognized after a second as gun oil.

She propped herself up on one elbow. The sheet slipped, pooling around her waist, and the cooler air hit her bare shoulders and made her shiver.

Dragan was across the tent, fully dressed in dark pants and a fitted black t-shirt that pulled across his shoulders as he moved. More clothes from Hassan. He was shoving the remaining items into a duffel bag with the kind of speed and precision that came from practice, from doing this a hundred times before. He didn't fold anything. He rolled it tight and packed it flat, making room for things that weren't shirts.

"What time is it?" Her voice came out rough, scraped raw from deep sleep and the things she'd said to him last night. The things he'd said back.

"Early. Get up. We're leaving in an hour."

He didn't look at her when he said it. He was already closing the duffel, already reaching for something else. His tone told her he was all business, and it stung. So different from the tone he’d used last night, while seducing her into an orgasm to distract her from her sister, leaving her wrung out, which finally lulled her to sleep.

She sat up slowly, holding the sheet against her chest. The events of last night came flooding back all at once, fragmented and vivid, like scenes from a movie she hadn't agreed to star in.

The fight. The way he'd looked at her across the tent, his eyes dark and unreadable, the tension between them so thick she could feel it pressing against her skin. The kiss that had come out of nowhere, or maybe out of everywhere, out of every charged look and careful touch and unspoken thing that had been building since the moment they met. Out of the anger and frustration she felt. She’d taken that out on him in the best way possible. The way his hands had felt on her body, sure and steady, like he was willing to take anything she wanted to dish out. Everything that followed, the heat and the hunger and the terrifying sense that she had just handed him something she couldn't take back. Something she couldn’t be sure he returned. Especially not now, when he was coldly professional as he stood across the tent from her.

Was he mad because she didn’t stay away to return the favor?

Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks, but Dragan wasn't looking at her. He was checking a weapon. She watched his hands move through the routine, efficient and automatic, and her stomach dropped because whatever required a weapon at eight in the morning was not going to be good news. She didn’t need to be an empath to sense the tension in him already.

"We’re leaving?" she finally asked as she pushed the sheet aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The rug was soft under her bare feet. "Leaving for where?"

"A helicopter will be here at nine. We're going to Malta."

She stared at his back. The words didn't make sense. They had just gotten here. She had just started to feel like she could breathe again, like she had something useful to do. And now Malta. Just like that. Announced like he was telling her what time dinner was.