Page 129 of Missile Strike

Well, he was blindfolded.

Couldn’t watch.

It’d be like pleasuring herself when she was alone.

Her hand slid over her breasts. Down her stomach to her clit, where she let her gaze fall to the place where they joined. His cock sliding in and out of her, covered in her slickness. She rubbed her clit in a circular motion, fast and hard. The muscles in her pelvis bunched. Pressure built, her body coiling into a fist, preparing to launch her into a maelstrom of pleasure.

“I can feel you tightening around me.” Danny’s voice was strained, the momentum of his hips never slowing. “Take yourself over the edge, baby.”

There was no way in hell she’d stop now. Her movements grew frantic, in time with his thrusts.

Her release hit, tearing a cry from her throat as her muscles clamped around him.

Sweat beaded his forehead. “Good girl.” He gritted out the words.

God help her, there was something wrong with her because his praise threw her into another round of intense pleasure, stars winking behind her eyes as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

Danny’s hips gave another hard thrust, then he pulsed inside her. “Bella!”

She collapsed onto his chest, his skin slick beneath her cheek.

The sound of their harsh breathing filled the room.

Ear pressed to Danny’s heart, she absorbed the rapid thumps into her own body.

What she wouldn’t give to wake up to the sound of that heartbeat every morning for the rest of her life.

She pressed her hand into his side. “Danny?”

“Hmm?”

“Now that the gala’s over, you’re going to leave, aren’t you?”

He stilled. “Take the blindfold off.” The lust that had scraped his voice just moments before was gone.

She slid the scarf from his head, her gaze refusing to meet his.

“Bella, look at me.” Danny’s voice was soft but commanding. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”

He might not leave right away, but he was leaving.

“And even though I’ll have to leave eventually for my job, I will come back.”

Her fingers traced idle patterns on his chest as she waited.

For the words he didn’t say.

Tell him.

Her fingers stilled, then folded into her palm.

Coward.

She’d loved him as a teenager and he’d walked away.

The logical part of her brain argued that they were adults now. That they were both in a different place in their lives.

And he told her he’d stay.