tips of her toes. Oh . . . yes. She shivered with pleasure, her mouth parting to allow his tongue to tangle with hers.
Drowning in the heat of his devouring kiss, she stroked her hands over the hair-roughened skin of his chest. A delicious excitement curled in the pit of her stomach as he tugged her leg higher on his hip, the tip of his cock sliding through her damp clit.
She hissed in pleasure, her nails digging into his chest.
Easily sensing the growing urgency of her desire, Niko pulled back, his face strained as he struggled to maintain control of his spiraling desire.
“Angel, I can’t wait,” he rasped. “I need to be inside you.”
His rough voice sent a flare of aching desire through her.
“Yes,” she breathed, shuddering as his fingers drifted over the curve of her hip.
With infinite care he explored the tender skin of her lower stomach before heading ever lower.
Angela muttered her approval as he covered her lips in a hungry kiss, but even distracted she gave a strangled groan when his seeking fingers stroked through her damp heat.
“God, you feel good,” he muttered. “Are you ready for me?”
Ready?
Hell, she’d been ready for weeks.
Another stroke or two of those clever fingers and she’d be reaching paradise alone.
“Please, Niko,” she muttered. “Now.”
His low hiss filled the air, his erection pressing eagerly against her damp heat.
“Next time,” he muttered.
She blinked in confusion. “What?”
He gazed deep into her eyes, a thin layer of sweat coating his face.
“Next time I intend to spend hours pleasuring you.”
A sly smile curved her lips. “Or maybe I’ll pleasure you.”
“Oh, shit.”
His control snapped.
Just like that.
Reclaiming her lips, Niko’s hands shifted to her lower back and with a forward thrust of his hips he was entering her in one sure stroke.
She gasped, but not from fear.
Exquisite pleasure blazed through her and she pressed her face into the curve of his neck. She’d never done anything but the traditional missionary position. Now she realized that the current arrangement allowed her to feel every slow stroke into her before he was retreating and returning with a slow, insistent thrust.
“Niko,” she breathed, feeling overwhelmed.
It was more than the extraordinary bliss of feeling him moving deep inside her. It was the sense of intimate connection with this man that went beyond the physical.
“I knew it would be perfect,” he whispered as he continued his measured pace. “I knew you would be perfect.”
“I never realized.”
“Never realized what, my sweet angel?”
“That this could be so—”
“So?”
“Life altering,” she breathed, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his.
His low laugh echoed through the air with an unmistakable satisfaction.
“You belong to me now,” he vowed.
Belonged?
If she’d been in her right mind, she might have protested the possessive comment.
But instead she arched her back as her body began to tighten with a shimmering anticipation. His steady, unrelenting pace was stoking an inferno deep within her that threatened to combust.
“Angel,” he breathed, giving her leg a tug higher as he angled his hips upward.
His slight shift was enough to press him even deeper within her and with a shocking force the tension that coiled between her legs abruptly shattered into a thousand pieces.
She cried out and wrapped her arms around his neck as he gave two more deep thrusts before he was reaching his own climax.
She held on tightly as they both struggled to recover from the explosion of sensations, their ragged breaths the only sound to stir the air.
Chapter Seven
Niko ran a shaky hand down the damp skin of Angela’s back, his face buried in her apple-scented hair.
Man, he ached to press her even closer to his trembling body. To hold her so tightly she would never be able to escape. But even now he feared he might accidentally crush her.
She was so fragile. So vulnerable.
The knowledge frightened him on a primal level that threatened to make him do something extremely stupid.
Like lock her in his rooms at Valhalla and never let her out.
Something that this fiercely independent woman would most certainly protest.
“You’re quiet,” he at last murmured, lifting his head to study her with a searching gaze. She’d never looked more beautiful with her hair tangled around her flushed face and her lips still swollen from his kisses. But he was a Sentinel. He didn’t miss the hint of unease behind her air of sleepy satisfaction. “Are you having regrets?”
“No.”
She used her finger to draw an aimless pattern over his chest, seemingly unaware that the light caress was enough to kick his libido into overdrive. Of