Possession by Jennifer Lyon Page B

deeper.
    “I’m going to…” Her body bowed, mouth panting, face flushing, and through it all, her eyes stayed on him.
    Let him see the second she fully surrendered to the pleasure he gave her as she spasmed around his cock.
    Breathtakingly beautiful, the sight ripped the last of his control away. He pumped into her, panting and straining as he chased the bliss only she could give him.
    His orgasm shot down his spine and exploded. Helpless beneath the power of his pleasure, he held on to her stare, the connection between them feeding him, filling his cold barren loneliness. He craved that bond even more than he did his release.
    It took minutes for him to get his breath back. The intensity shook him and captured him at the same time. He gently framed her face with his hands. “I’m staying with you tonight.”

 

     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Kat startled awake. It was pitch black in her bedroom except for the green numbers on her alarm clock. One forty-one a.m. Sloane was wrapped around her with his heavy arm anchoring her to him. He felt like a furnace blasting against her back.
    Was he sick? She started to twist around but stilled when she heard Sloane’s rough voice mumble something. His arm locked tighter around her, preventing her from turning. What did he say? Was he awake?
    Sloane grunted and yanked Kat back, plastering her to his body.
    Her chest constricted as adrenaline dumped into her system. Heart pounding, she shoved at his arm. It didn’t move. Trapped, she was trapped.
    “Sara.”
    That one clear word cut through her panic. Taking in air, she made herself calm. “A nightmare,” she whispered. All she had to do was wake him. “Sloane?”
    He groaned, muttered more unintelligible sounds, but didn’t wake up.
    It wasn’t working. Shards of panic scraped her nerves, making her want to thrash and struggle. But Sloane was caught in a nightmare, so he might fight back. That scared her badly enough that her voice locked.
    Think. Don’t panic.
    Sloane had told her what to do if she couldn’t speak when she was with him—tap out. He’d told her he was trained to react to that. Would it work when he was asleep too? Quickly, Kat tapped three times, hard, on his bulging forearm.
    Sloane shifted behind her, rising up on his other arm. “Kat?”
    It worked. Just like he’d said it would. Relieved, she relaxed and rolled to her back. Since her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could make out the lines of his face. “You were having a nightmare.”
    “Shit.” He dropped away from her, putting distance between them. “Go to sleep. You have to get up in a couple hours.”
    They lay side by side, cocooned in the quiet night. Now that Sloane was awake, she could think. The only word she’d understood was Sara. “The nightmare was about your sister?”
    The mattress shifted as Sloane tensed. “Yes.”
    What could she do to help? He held himself apart from her, still and silent, his breathing brutally controlled.
    Unable to bear it, she bumped her palm over the sheet, hit his bunched forearm and followed it down to his tightly fisted hand. She stroked her thumb over his distended knuckles. “Can I do anything to help?”
    He pulled his hand away and slid out of the bed. “Go to sleep. I’m going to get some water.” He stalked out of her room.
    Should she leave him alone? But how could she when she could feel his isolation and pain? She shoved the covers off, grabbed Sloane’s shirt and yanked it on. Not bothering to button it, she trudged down the hallway to her kitchen. Sloane wasn’t there, but rather he stood at the sliding glass door leading to her small patio. Soft moonlight poured over his wide, sculpted shoulders that narrowed to a tight waist. The globes of his naked ass were made for a woman’s hands to hold on to as he drove into her.
    The tat on his right biceps shimmered, the flames around the S almost appearing real.
    But what pulled Kat to him was the way he stood so still, naked and