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The zing of pleasure bit deep into the pressure of need building, pressing down onto her, into her. His tongue moved fast over her clit until all she could do was hold her breath until the urge to gasp overwhelmed her. He slowed to suck it between his lips. Her nails dug into his scalp, her hips rose, pushing deeper against his mouth.
Just as she approached the edge of the precipice, he turned his head to graze his lips against the seam of her leg. “My Heart,” he whispered.
That acknowledgement of love, of their connection, sent her tipping over the peak and racing down the descent of a pounding orgasm that quaked and heated all of her.
By the time she got around to opening her eyes again, he was on his feet, between her thighs, smiling down at her.
Blowing out a breath, she reached out to drop a heavy hand onto his torso. “My Heart.”
Pulling her body to his, he held her against him. “How do you feel?”
“Spent, alive… finished… happy.”
“Not thinking about agendas anymore?”
He relaxed his embrace when she pushed back to look up at him. “You did that to distract me?”
“I did that because tension increases your stress. You build everything up inside and if you don’t vent, that pressure messes with your head… Probably why you had me pegged for a double agent at the weekend.” He dipped to kiss her forehead. “And I did it because it’s been too long since I reminded your pussy who it loves most… You definitely didn’t have sex with him, right?”
He wasn’t wrong about the tension; she just hadn’t thought about it that way before. Her stress level was practically non-existent, though her ability to move, or do anything other than breathing, was pretty much non-existent too. She’d be happy to sit there, pressed against him, for the rest of time.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, playing to his joke. “I totally forgot for a minute that I was absolutely screwing the guy I came here to freak about.”
The heat of his laugh in her hair told her he knew she was playing. Scooping her up, he carried her through the trailer, their eyes exploring each other as he laid her down on the bed.
“Baby,” Tess said, stroking him when he came down on top of her. “I’d be happy spending the rest of my life in this bed with you… But we don’t have much time and I need help.”
He kissed her once and flopped onto his side next to her. “I know we need to talk… And staying quiet while I screw you isn’t your specialty.” She socked his chest. He just laughed and caught her hand to raise it to his lips. “I just wanted to see you here… to have your scent in my sheets again.”
“Daire,” Tess murmured as he let her hand go to run his fingertips across her brows, down her temples to her cheekbones, caressing and memorizing every part of her.
“I’m not cultivating you.”
“Didn’t say you were,” she murmured. “I’m sorry if my coming here, if asking you about things… I’m sorry it’s hard for you. I don’t mean to put you in a difficult position.”
Pinching her chin between his thumb and curled forefinger, he directed her mouth up so he could kiss her. “Any position with you is fine by me.”
Even while teasing he could flatter her. His chilled, more affectionate nature could be because she’d asked for Danny. Though she liked to think he’d just missed her.
“Help me, Agent.”
“We have two options,” he said, skimming his hand down and up her body. “You play along, let him do his thing, spoiling you, and we see where it goes. Or you tell him to go to hell and we deal with the fallout.”
“I don’t want there to be any fallout because of me… I suppose that means going with the first option. I just wish I had an idea of where it would go. If he makes a physical move on me, I can deal with that—”
“Or I can,” he said and winked.
Even when her stress level began to rise again, Daire was there to bring it back down.
“What if he threatens Harry? Tells him to do something or he’ll hurt me? I might not even know.”
“I’ll know,” Daire said. “Harry has made it clear that your safety is paramount. If someone threatens that, it will be down to me to eliminate the threat. You have to know I won’t blink, Little Red…” He caught a tendril of her hair, curling it around his finger. “We’ve never talked about this, but… I’m not all sex and pancakes.”
“Violence,” she said. “That’s what you mean. You’re capable of violence.”
“Horrific violence, baby,” he said, watching her hair coil around his finger. “Murder… I’m capable of murder… I’ve committed murder.”
“I know,” she said, rolling closer to him. “We’ve never discussed the details, but I’ve run from it my whole life. If I didn’t believe what was chasing me was capable of erasing me, I wouldn’t have run from it for so long. My mom wouldn’t have run from it for decades either.”
