Dancing With Danger (Goode Girls #3) - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,56

blanket beneath her, she arched her back toward a sudden, intense onslaught of need.

His hand gripped her bare hip and after a few jerking motions, he was there. The blunt head of his cock kissing the folds guarding her sex.

He stilled then, his grip on the flesh of her hip bruising as the only sound in the night was the rasp of his panting breaths.

“Damn you,” he finally snarled. “Damn you for...”

For what?

She never had the chance to ask.

He drove inside her with one searing, merciless thrust. Penetrating not just her body, but searing her very soul.

There was a momentary sharp pain as flesh still tender from the previous night struggled to contain him once again.

Biting her lip, Mercy forced herself not to gasp, because she wanted this. Needed it. Craved the violence of this storm between them. She threw her head back and pressed her body toward him. Taking him impossibly deeper. Until the bones of his hips met the soft flesh of her ass.

With a low, appreciative sound, he set a rhythm as relentless as he was. His cock parting her, filling her, injecting her with currents of lightning-quick pleasure as he drove so deep, she thought at times he caressed her womb.

She could feel his heartbeat inside of her as her intimate muscles gripped and goaded him with lugubrious tension, unwilling to release him each time he withdrew.

He gripped her dress, holding it like the reins of a horse as he drove deep and hard, bucking her forward with the force of his thrusts. He held her captive as he undid her completely.

Mercy said his name. Then she screamed it.

Bending over her, his hand reached around and covered her mouth.

She could taste her own slick desire on his skin, and she bit into the rough pads of his fingers as he crippled her with release. Relentless spasms uncoiled within her, thundering through her veins with such astounding force she couldn’t help but bear down against the overwhelming bliss.

An inhuman sound tore from him, then another, as his impressive muscles locked into a jerking tempo.

His cock swelled impossibly larger inside of her the moment before a rushing jet of warmth bathed her womb, heightening her own climax until stars danced in her periphery, threatening to steal her consciousness.

And why not? He was a consummate thief, after all.

She’d never offered him her heart.

But he’d taken it all the same.

Chapter 15

Damn her.

Damn her for making him feel more alive than he ever had, on the night he was supposed to die. For teaching him what hope felt like. For making him wonder what a future might be.

Damn her for changing everything. His plans. His mind.

His heart.

What was happening? He’d been a man of absolute resolve and relentless, one-minded orientation until this whirlwind of a woman touched down in his life.

She challenged everything he’d known to be true.

It was more impossible between them now than it had ever been. His machinations were a runaway train charging down a steep mountain.

Chased by an avalanche.

There was no stopping it.

Time was of the essence, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to bloody withdraw from the velvet warmth of her body, even long after the earth-shattering climax had passed.

How could he leave the world she inhabited? It’d somehow become impossible. Unthinkable.

Because she cared. She’d admitted it with those lustrous blue eyes gone dark with anger tempered only by desire. Anger precipitated by the pain of his loss.

Other than his brother, he couldn’t think of another person alive that would mourn him.

Until Mercy.

She was the one to pull away and detach, bringing him plummeting back to reality with a jarring crash.

She rolled to her back and he turned away, righting himself as he allowed her the privacy to do the same.

“Well, I hope that settles things,” she said after a moment of rustling fabric, her crisp tone rasping over the afterglow of satisfied lust.

He wished he felt the same.

Things were more unsettled than ever.

And his need for her would never be satisfied. Not if he lived another hundred years.

Gathering his fortitude, he turned back to her in time to see that she’d tidied herself with her ruined undergarments and stood, balling them up in her grasp.

“These are for the rubbish.” She set about looking for a bin. Finding one, she dropped them inside before catching her reflection in the mirror and smoothing her hair back into place.

Was there ever a woman more precious? This force of nature in a petite, golden package. His fierce vixen. Not