Hard Target by Marquita Valentine

bed.”
    “We’re not waiting until after the package is delivered?”
    I lean into her. “Not. A. Chance.”
    Her mouth forms a perfect O before she licks her lips and says, “What if I don’t want to?”
    “Then we won’t. I’ve done very bad things in my life, but to force myself on another… that is….” English words escape me as my past threatens to rear its ugly head. “ Repulsiv e. Unacceptable.”
    She walks inside. “Shut the door, Ben.”
    I do as she asks, then stalk her across the room. She’s trailing articles of clothing on the way, and I’m more than willing to follow that path. As she turns to face me, the backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed and she goes tumbling down. I follow after her, rolling us once so that she’s on top—for my viewing pleasure. Her breasts are full and her hips are gently curved. She has the body of a dancer.
    Cupping the back of her head, I pull her down to claim her mouth. She opens up to me easily, sweetly. My hands roam her body, exploring the soft skin I crave so much. Caressing and listening to every gasp, every sigh that lets me know she loves what I’m doing to her. But my Morgan is no passive lover. Her hands are just as demanding, just as curious.
    “My feisty woman.”
    “My very jealous man.”
    I nudge my erection against where she’s hot and slick. Welcoming. “Do something about it. Show me that you’re mine.”
    She leans forward to position herself over me, and I seize the opportunity to take her nipple into my mouth, sucking hard. I’ve learned her breasts are sensitive, and I’m pretty sure I can make her come this way, but I want inside of her when that happens.
    My eyes close in pleasure as her small hands wrap around my cock and guide me inside of her. My hands sweep down her back even as I thrust up, cupping her perfect bum to hold her in place. The feel of her warmth surrounding me is almost too much.
    “I need a minute,” I admit, opening my eyes to find her smiling at me like the goddess she is.
    She rolls her hips, sending me deeper.
    Unable to stay passive any longer, I guide her movements, give her words of endearment in Russian and French. I don’t trust myself to speak her language. To tell her how I’m starting to feel about her.
    No good will come of it.
    I watch as her hands glide down the center of her body, cupping her breasts and then letting go of one to delve between her thighs where we are joined in the most intimate of ways. Her fingers brush against my cock as she slides along her skin.
    She cries out as she touches her clit, rubbing it so hard and fast that I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up with her.
    Her hair falls from its small bun to caress her jaw.
    I love watching her like this, taking her pleasure and bringing me along with her. I meet each roll of her hips, thrusting to the rhythm she sets. She lets go of her breast and grabs the necklace around my throat, tugging on it until I’m sitting up.
    She fists it, using it as an anchor while her breath starts coming in sharp gasps that let me know she’s on the verge of coming. I’m on the verge of rolling her to her back and fucking her, but I can’t.
    What started out as a jealousy fueled move to show that she belongs to me has turned into something more. I caress the side of her face and kiss her again. This time, savoring her lips and the taste of her.
    Nothing exists in this moment, but us. No Bratva, no flash drive, no threat on our lives… nothing . Yet this moment is everything. Something shifts inside of me, cracking in places that I try to keep hidden.
    She smiles against my lips and breathes my name.
    Her inner muscles ripple around my cock. She lets her head fall back, exposing the soft line of her neck as she lets out a low moan. I kiss her there, join my fingers to hers and help her orgasm along. She’s so wet, inside and out, that as she tightens around me, I give a hoarse shout.
    I come inside of her in hot spurts that nearly