Page 39 of Taylor’s Warrior

Oh no. He still had some control.

“I want to see all of you,” she declared when she surfaced for air. “Every inch.”

All desire to laugh had vanished. Rhys groaned. “You’re not playing fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

He went still. “Tay…?”

“This sure ain’t war, Dalton.”

On that, they were agreed, although now was not the time to dive down that rabbit hole. Not when there were greater delights to explore. He intended to immerse himself fully in everything they had to offer.

“Another point of agreement, Ms. Markham.”

“Good.” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “Now move your ass and get naked.”

He blinked. “So, it’s like that, is it?”

“You bet it’s like that.”

A moment later, his briefs joined Taylor’s nightgown on the floor. When he turned back to face her, her gaze was locked, with laser-like accuracy, on a specific part of his anatomy.

“Disappointed?” he finally managed to mutter.

“Disappointed?” She lifted her gaze. “Are you crazy?”

The soft, slow question reached out and wrapped itself around him, in much the same way as she wrapped her hand around his cock. He took a moment to bolster his self-control before he could embarrass himself.

Now, what was it she’d asked?

Oh, yes.

“About you? Yes, I am,” he admitted. “Now, let me do my job.”

Her lips twitched. “I’m a job now, am I?” she teased.

He watched her form the words, leaned in closer, and pressed his mouth to hers. His tongue explored the seam of her lips, and when she allowed him in, her tongue clashed with his in a spirited dance of primal need.

When they finally broke apart, his gaze met hers. “You do know I take my work very… very… seriously?”

Her gasp, when he slipped a hand between her thighs and stroked her folds, was confirmation he’d gotten the message across. She was already soaking wet, and just a fingertip touch to her clit was enough to make her whole body shudder.

“Glad to know you don’t need directions,” Taylor observed with a breathless whisper.

“I’m very good at getting the lay of the land.” He placed a kiss under her jaw. “Familiarizing myself with the terrain.” His lips found her collarbone. “Charting a course to the target.” He drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

Her low, throaty groan scored a direct hit and made him harder than granite. She deserved his best, and he’d barely gotten started. “I’m also good at achieving my objectives.”

Her head flopped back against the pillow, while her hips lifted and pushed against his hand. “Do you always talk so much when you’re making love?”

He kissed her collarbone. “Think of it as a strategic break to allow you to get your breath back for the next phase of the operation.”

“Really? You think you’re that good?” she challenged.

His smile was slow and predatory. “No, not at all.” He closed his teeth on her nipple, sucked hard again, and released her pebble-hard flesh with a satisfying pop. “I don’t think I’m that good—I know I’m that good.”

Taylor gave a soft moan. “Such modesty.”