Page 44 of Resurgent
Then her hands are in my hair, her lips on mine, and our tongues are fervently tangling, probing, tasting, as if we can’t get enough. Buried in her sweet heat like this, our bodies and mouths so intimately joined, gives me the uncanny feeling of being home.
Somewhere in the midst of our kiss, I start lifting her up and down on my cock—guiding, controlling, setting the pace. And she lets me. She gives herself to me without reservation, even when my finger slips around to tease her bottom, lightly pressing at the tight little whirl there. Although she does bite my lip—a subtle little reminder that my little minx won’t hesitate to push back occasionally.
And then she’s coming again, completely lost in my touch, her body spasming as she rides an endless wave, finally free from the sand that keeps her grounded. I come, too, my cock pulsing long after she’s collapsed against my chest and my arms have gone around her, pulling her close as I wish for this night to go on forever.
Later, after I had scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom where I’d laid her on the bed and gently cleaned her with a warm washcloth, I stretch out next to her, gathering her to my chest as I pull the covers up over us.
“I think it’s safe to say I tamed you, sweetheart,” I say with more than a hint of pride in my voice.
She snuggles in closer. “For tonight.” I can feel the curve of her lips against my chest and I pull her closer.
“Oh yeah?” I nuzzle her ear, and she giggles.
“Yeah. I didn’t even need a safe word.”
“We can remedy that next time.” I stroke her hair, wanting to say more, to tell her how much this night has meant to me—how muchshemeans to me—but her deep and even breathing indicates she’s asleep.
…
“Wake up.” I gently shake Charlotte.
“Fuck you.” Her words are muffled under the pillow she’s jammed over her head.
I sigh. I didn’t want to do this, but she’s left me no choice. I yank the covers off, stopping for a minute to appreciate her gorgeous naked body against the white sheet—all lightly tanned, smooth skin and sweet curves—before smacking her ass lightly.
She lifts the pillow, opens one eye to squint at me, and smiles slowly. “Ooh! I get it. This is how you get me to use a safe word? Fine. Fuck you.” As an afterthought, she adds impudently, “Sir.”
I laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘Fuck you, sir’ is not a safe word.” She wiggles her ass at me provocatively. She looks gorgeously sleep rumpled and utterly fuckable, and I glance at my watch briefly before growling, “You’re lucky we have to be out of here in the next fifteen minutes.”
She sits up and stretches unselfconsciously, completely unaffected by the fact that I’m standing next to the bed completely dressed.On second thought,I think as she shoots me a decidedly wicked look,she may look unaffected, but she knows exactly what effect she’s having on me.“Oh yeah? What would you do?”
“Tame that mouth of yours, the same way I tamed the rest of you last night.”
“My mouth is much unrulier than the rest of me.” Oh yeah. There’s definitely a wicked gleam in her eye.
“Oh, I can image.” I lean over and, bracing my arms on either side of her, kiss her hard. “I already warned you about waving those red flags, baby. You going to put your money where your mouth is?”
Giggling, she ducks out from under my arm, but I catch her by the waist. She pummels me with the pillow that’s still in her hand, but I don’t let go of her. I easily grab the pillow out of her hand and cup her jaw with my hand, pressing on her chin until her mouth opens. Her smile fades and her eyes darken. “Fuck, baby,” I say before descending on her mouth. What is it about her that makes me want her so badly?
I break the kiss, shaking my head. Unfortunately, we don’t have time for all the things I want to do to that mouth. I waited as long as possible before waking her up since neither of us got much sleep last night, and it took a good ten minutes of nudging her and cajoling her before she woke up enough to cuss me out.
“We better go. The plane will be waiting for us.”
It doesn’t take either of us long to get ready. Charlotte takes a quick shower, but she’s ready in the requisite fifteen minutes, her hair still damp, and hanging in dark tendrils around her heart-shaped face. It’s still dark when we slip out of the villa, headed to the Guadalajara airport.
“Here we are,” I announce as I pull the rental car onto the tarmac and park next to a Gulfstream 450.
“What do you mean? Don’t we have to go into the airport?”
“Nope. I chartered a private jet. Not only will it get us to Malaysia in about ten hours instead of twenty-four, saving us valuable time, it’ll also be much easier to stay under the radar without anyone seeing us. And with any luck, I’ll have some guns to bring back with me. It’s going to be a lot easier to get them into Mexico on a private jet.”
“Don’t we have to go through security?”
“Sort of. Here he comes now.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab my backpack as the airport official, toting a machine gun, strides toward the car. “Act natural,” I say under my breath as I open the car door.
Charlotte follows my lead, playing the part of the newlywed wife to perfection. After taking a perfunctory glance at our passports, he gives a swift nod of his head, says a few words to the pilot in Spanish, and we’re clear to board.
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Walsh. I’m Captain Jorge León. Captain Martinez and First Officer Olivares will be flying with us today. Please make yourselves comfortable while I ready for takeoff.”
