His hips jerked into hers, the heavy ridge of his erection pressing firmly against the intimate mound between her thighs. The feel of the towel loosening from between her breasts brought only a second’s thought before it was pushed away.
She would remember why she wasn’t supposed to let him touch her when the cold light of day burned away the sensual illusions he was weaving around her.
For now—for this moment and this man—she needed just a little time, just a night to prove to herself that when morning did come, she would still be the woman she was now.
Brogan’s kisses became deeper, more drugging, filling her with such a sense of overriding hunger that nothing mattered but his touch and touching him.
Her hands slid to his broad chest, her fingers shaking, clenching in the material of his shirt. Sensual, sexual intoxication dragged her deeper into the chaotic needs rising inside her, refusing to allow her to think or to control the hunger raging through her.
The feel of Brogan’s hand sliding along the naked skin of her hip, caressing its way higher until it rested just beneath her breast, was like pouring an accelerant on the fires already raging out of control inside her.
Her fingers unclenched, trembling; she was desperate to touch him. Struggling with the buttons of his shirt, her hips shifted against his, the ache between her thighs building.
The heavy erection pressing against her had her body reacting with feminine demand, with a need to feel him hot and naked against her, taking her, driving into her with the power and fierce heat she could feel throbbing beneath his jeans.
As the last button slipped free, she pushed at the material, forcing it over his shoulders and whimpering beneath his kiss when the garment would go no farther.
A second later his hands cupped her rear and then turned and strode the few feet to the bed. His kiss never paused; the hunger raging through it never dimmed. When her back met the mattress his head lifted, forcing her eyes to open, her hands to tighten around his neck to bring him back to her.
He wasn’t leaving her, as she had feared.
His lips traveled instead to her jawline, then beneath it, moving down the column of her neck as it arched back, an agony of pleasure attacking her senses as his teeth raked against her flesh. His tongue licked and stroked, playing with her nerve endings and sending sensations racing through them. His lips kissed, took fiery tastes of her skin at intervals, and moved lower with each kiss as she arched to him.
Chaos clashed with the pleasure rising through her system as need burned through her senses. Lying naked beneath him, Eve was aware of every point of contact as the material of his jeans brushed against her thighs and hips. The rasp of chest hair brushed across her nipples, sensitizing them further.
His hand was at her hip, holding her still as she tried to move beneath him; she was desperate for some point of contact against the swollen, aching bud of her clit.
A whimper escaped her as her nails bit into his shoulders, the feel of his knee suddenly pressing between hers and driving the hard muscle of his thigh against her pussy dragged a startled cry from her lips.
Her juices trickled from her vagina, saturating the folds beyond and spilling a heated layer of slick warmth along her clitoris as she rubbed herself against his thigh. The stimulation against the bundle of nerves sent shards of sharpened sensation exploding to her womb. The driving need for more—more touch, more sensation—rose inside her with a burning force.
Heat brushed against the curves of her breasts; the rasp of his beard rubbing against the tender skin sent her hands searching between their bodies and finding his belt.
She wanted him naked. She wanted bare skin meeting bare skin from breast to ankle.
His lips brushed against the outer curve of her breast, kissed it in passing, then eased higher, his tongue probing, licking, searching—
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Brogan.” She gasped, arching to him as his lips surrounded the tight, violently sensitive peak and sucked it into the heated depths of his mouth.
Liquid flames surrounded it.
The heated stroke of his tongue against the nerve endings gathered there sent pure ecstasy racing to her womb, her clit, exploding inside them and driving the need tearing through her higher.
Eve tore his belt loose. Her fingers tugged at the metal buttons of his jeans. Pulling and tugging, she struggled with them until they were free, pushing aside the material before freezing in shock. A harsh moan escaped her as her hands found the long, broad length of his cock as it rose between his thighs. The flared crest was slightly damp, the shaft throbbing, pounding with the blood racing through the heavy veins just beneath the silken flesh that stretched tight over the iron strength.
There were too many sensations.
She felt a roughened heat against her nipple as he sucked at first one delicate tip, then the other. With thumb and forefinger he gripped the other peak, tugging and milking it with his fingers as electric forks of sensation slapped at her clit with each stroke.
She fought to breathe. She fought to understand the force of the sensations whipping out of control and blazing through her senses, and couldn’t seem to do it.
As his hand moved from her breast and slid down her waist, over her abdomen, then tucked between her thighs as his knee eased back, Eve knew she was doomed.
Right here in this bed on this sultry summer night, she lost herself.
And she wasn’t entirely certain she would be able to find herself once the pleasure was over.
SIX
Eve never imagined pleasure could be this extreme.
She’d never before had her control stripped by a kiss or a little heavy petting.
She’d never lost herself to the point that a man had actually managed to get his hands between her thighs, or to the point that she was so wet, so wild, that nothing mattered but Brogan’s touch. She’d been waiting for this. For a pleasure so extreme she couldn’t deny it or the man giving it to her. Until Brogan, that hadn’t happened.
His fingers slipped through the thick layer of juices that gathered between the folds of her pussy. As they slid through the narrow slit, he parted the inner lips, his thumb pressing against her clitoris as he rubbed the clenched entrance with his fingers.
Lifting closer, desperate for his touch, aching for more, Eve whimpered at the heat flooding her senses and the driving hunger spurring it. She parted her thighs further, her hips shifting, arching to him, the feel of his mouth devouring her nipple as his thumb pressed against her aching clit dragging a low, harsh cry from her throat.
Suckling, licking, rasping the hardened peak of her breast, Brogan began to ease the tips of two fingers inside her. The feel of the entrance parting, stretching, her juices flowing to meet his touch suspended her breath for precious seconds.
Her fingers clenched in his hair as a gasp burst from her lips. It was all she could do to keep from screaming with the pleasure.
Sinking, falling deeper into the rapture surrounding her, Eve gave herself to the drowning sensations. So much so that when the sharp knock against her patio door exploded through the room, she wasn’t entirely certain what it was, or where it was coming from at first.
Brogan’s head jerked up and turned to the doors as Eve stared back at him, dazed.
The knock came again.
“Eve, are you awake?” Dawg called out. “I know you are; the light’s on, sweetie. Come on; I just want to talk to you for a minute.”
The sound of her brother’s voice was like cold water suddenly surrounding her body.
Oh, God, what had she done?
Staring up at Brogan, she was suddenly horrified. The thought that she was betraying Dawg, betraying every belief he had in loyalty to one’s country and defending their freedom, rushed through her.
If he found Brogan here he would never forgive her.