Under the Rose - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,102

freed hand came to my back, and she raked her fingernails down my spine.

“You always push, don’t you?” I said.

Another shove, and I was flipped back—being ridden by Freya with glorious speed. Propped onto my elbows, I thrust my hips up in time to her actions, allowing her to sink deeper every time she moved.

“I always push because I love what it does to you,” she gasped.

I sat up, yanking her hair back as she hissed. We were rocking together, legs around my waist, but the sounds we were making were far from romantic.

“And what does it do to me?” I growled, biting the curve of her shoulder.

“Snaps your control. Lets me see the real you.”

My mouth was on hers a second later—needing to claim this woman who was my greatest challenger and my greatest vulnerability.

“And who is that?” I whispered against her lips. I held her strong against my chest and stood up, dropping her on the closest table. Fucked her hard as the table legs rattled. She lay back, displaying her gorgeous body as I held her knees and fucked her fast and deep. In between baiting me she was crying, wailing, begging. I bent close, bit her jaw.

“Who is that?” I asked again.

“Tongue,” she panted, slapping her hands down. “Tongue, tongue, I need your tongue, Sam.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I dropped to my knees and ate her pussy on her table, her legs pressed to my ears as her hips went wild beneath my mouth. Her climax was one long release of moaning and sighs. It was a beautiful privilege—but I was too greedy to stop at two. Before she’d even come down, I turned her around.

“Palms on the table,” I whispered at her ear. She complied, and as I watched my cock slide back inside her wet sex—still clenching with ecstasy—I understood the depths of my love for this woman. This coupling was too intense not to mean every damn thing in the world to me. As I fucked Freya, I turned her face toward mine and kissed her breathless.

“Who is that?” I asked softly, one last time.

“You’re the man I love,” she replied. We were too overcome with sensation to do anything but kiss and gasp and fall headfirst into climax. My orgasm ripped up my spine, stole my breath, had me whispering her name over and over against her lips. Her final orgasm seemed to light up her face, and she was still shuddering as I held her back to my chest, arm wrapped around her breasts, face pressed to her hair.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you. I love you.”

Freya turned in my arms and wrapped herself around me. The smile that broke across her face felt like a thousand glittering stars in the sky—it was that brilliant.

And then she laughed. “Being in love. Finally something the two of us can agree upon.”

45

Sam

I woke up in paradise.

I blinked one eye open, then the other. Two blankets covered my naked body where we’d fallen asleep, limbs entwined, on Freya’s couch. On the side table, Minerva perched on a stack of paperbacks, whiskers twitching. I stroked her neck, and she purred. Behind her, books were jammed into every available nook and cranny, tumbling out of the built-in shelves. Green leaves scratched against the window as the summer sun peeked through the clouds.

“Good morning.” It was Freya’s sultry voice, extra-raspy from the early hour. She stood in the doorway, completely naked, holding two mugs of steaming tea. Her blond hair was snarled and wild, lips swollen, face a beam of fucking sunshine.

“Come here,” I said, holding out the blankets. She giggled, deposited our mugs on the table, and curled up next to me.

Would I ever get used to the sensation of our bare skin pressed together? With one hand, I pushed the mess of her hair out of her delighted face. Kissed her mouth. Kissed her cheek. Kissed her neck until she giggled. She arranged herself on my lap, dragging the blanket tightly around us.

“Are you sore from our night of marathon sex, Agent Byrne?” she asked.

“Never.” I smirked. But I was. In the best way possible. My body ached from the adrenaline, the tension, the fear. And it ached from the hours we’d spent bringing each other to orgasm again and again.

“Liar.”

“A little,” I admitted. She bit my ear and growled. Chuckling, I pulled her closer, smelling her hair. Taking in the new, beautiful details of Freya Evandale in the morning.

Keeping

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