Page 32 of Hunting Snow

My head drops back. My mouth opens on a cry that fills the small room and crashes off every hard surface. He's deep, stretching me, filling me in a way that borders on too much and just enough all at once.

"Eyes." He cups my jaw, tilts my face to his. "Look at me while I fuck you, sweet girl."

I lock my gaze on his. Whiskey eyes, dark and feral, burning with possession and hunger and something deeper. Love? Maybe.

Or I'm projecting my own feelings.

He withdraws slowly and drives back in, setting a rhythm that is punishing, deliberate, each thrust hitting a spot inside me that makes my vision blur.

My nails drag down his back. He growls against my throat and hooks my knee higher, changing the angle, and the sound of our bodies meeting fills the room alongside my ragged cries and his low, rough groans.

"Daddy, right there." My breath shatters. "Please don't stop fucking me so good."

Heavy breathing has me shaking in his hold.

"Never." He buries his face against my neck and takes me harder. "You're mine. Every inch of you. Mine."

His thumb finds my clit, swollen and slick, and circles with the same lethal precision he applies to everything. My orgasm builds in my core, spreading outward through my limbs, tightening every muscle until my whole body vibrates.

"Come for Daddy." His voice is rough and broken. "Let me have it, sweet girl."

Thane surges so deep and hard inside me the desk surges across the floor and his balls bounce off my ass.

Pure and raw. He pounds into me. For every thrust into my pussy, I drive downward just as hard. Heavy balls slap against my body and then suddenly my vision turns black. I scream out just as he roars through his release.

My tight pussy clamps over my lover’s cock and I spill hot, sticky juices all over both of us. The orgasm rips through me with a force that bows my spine off the desk. I cry out his name, both names, the real one and the one that belongs to us in the dark, and my walls clamp around him in tight, pulsing waves. He follows with a groan that rumbles from deep in his chest, his body going rigid, his grip on my hips bruising and possessive as he empties himself inside the condom with his forehead pressed hard against mine.

We breathe together for a long time. His arms wrap around me and I press my face into the warm hollow of his throat. The steady thrum of his pulse anchors me while my own heart races toward something resembling normal.

When we are breathing normally again, he lifts me from the desk and carries me to the bed. I don't fight it. My body is boneless. My brain is a haze of satisfaction and questions I'm too spent to ask. He lays me on the sheets and stretches out beside me, pulling me into his chest with an arm that locks around my waist.

I curl into him. My palm rests over his heart.

"I know you're hiding things from me, Thane Cross."

His thumb strokes the curve of my hip. "Sleep for now."

My lashes grow heavy. His breathing steadies beneath my cheek and the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart fills the silence. The safehouse is dim and warm and his body is a wall of heat and muscle curved around mine.

Tomorrow I will worry about him withholding the truth.

For now I close my eyes and let sleep pull me under. Deep, trusting, complete. The kind of sleep that only comes when every cell in your body believes it is safe.

I don't know what I'm sleeping next to. But I know how he holds me, and right now, that is enough.

CHAPTER 10

THANE

Gray light bleeds through the reinforced windows and the woman beside me breathes in slow, measured pulls that I match without trying.

Neve is on her side, dark hair fanning across the pillow in tangled waves. One hand rests against my chest, fingers still curled loosely into my shirt from when sleep pulled her under hours ago. Her lips are parted, soft and swollen from my mouth. The sheet has slipped below her waist, exposing the smooth line of her shoulder, the curve of her breast, the faint pink marks my fingers left on her hip.

I've been awake for hours. Not from habit, though the training never fully shuts off. My body rests in shallow intervals, the same way a loaded weapon sits on a nightstand with the safety off. I’m always ready and have no off button. It’s how I’ve stayed alive for so long.

But tonight I stayed awake for a different reason.

She talked to me before sleep took her. Half-formed words mumbled against my chest while her body still trembled from the aftershocks of what I did to her on my desk.