Page 91 of Missile Strike

She looked past him, bunching the pillow nervously beneath her head. “Just going over gala details.”

In truth, she hadn’t given much thought to the gala since the walkthrough on Friday, which wasn’t like her.

He didn’t respond, and she didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes in case he saw through her lie.

His finger traced her cheek, then drifted down her neck to her collarbone.

A shiver ran through her.

“Any regrets?”

“About us?” Her breath hitched. Did he have regrets? Was that why he was asking?

She made herself look at him. “No. You?”

His lips tilted in a soft curve, his eyes warming. “No. I told you I’m willing to try. For you. Only you, Bella.”

Only her. Lightness. Hope. They flooded her. She gave him a cheek-splitting smile that he returned.

Reaching for her, he found her lips, his body pressing her into the mattress.

She shifted beneath him, gliding her palms over his back. Muscles rippled beneath the pads of her fingers as he braced his weight on one forearm and let his other hand smooth down her pink nightshirt to where the hem brushed her thighs.

His fingers slid beneath the silk, his voice dropping to a low rasp. “Mmm. No panties. And you’re wet.”

Her back bowed as need surged. “Danny.”

He rubbed her clit. Sparks of arousal took flight, dancing like fireflies through her blood. Already, it wasn’t enough.

I need you inside me.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

Had she spoken aloud?

His fingers moved faster, driving her up until every muscle in her body balanced on a tightrope of tension. Then he drove two fingers deep inside, and she shattered, coming in wave after wave while he continued to pump.

Her body refused to be sated. She reached down, wrapped her hand around his cock. “I need this. Now.”

His head fell back with a groan.

She had the ridiculous urge to bite at his throat, a primitive claiming that screamed to the world.

Mine.

He thrust into her fist. “You keep that up, honey, and I’m gonna come all over your hand instead of inside you.”

“We can’t have that.” That slow, sexy drawl came from her mouth. She shifted her hips to align him with her center.

“Bella. Condom.” A pained expression twisted Danny’s face. “I don’t have any more.”

“I’m on birth control.”

“Just got checked out. I’m good, too.” His gaze intensified as if he had her under a microscope. “Are you sure?”

She opened her mouth to tell him that yes, she was sure, and he needed to get inside her when Desperado wailed from the nightstand on the other side of the bed.

Danny went still.