“So do you,” she said, that sweetness in her that hooked him coming through even now, even as he took her hard against the wall.
“I’ve wanted to be inside you since that first night,” he said as he filled her, taking a beat to linger in the sheer pleasure of being inside her. “I’ve wanted to feel you gripping me.” He pulled back, then thrust into her again, her eyes going hazy with lust.
She moaned his name. “What else did you want?” she asked, and her question sent the lust in him on a high-speed chase through his bones from the way she craved his dirty words.
“To feel how wet you get when I make you come again.”
“I want to know what that’s like, too,” she whispered. “I’ve never known. Make me feel that way.”
Oh hell, she was going to experience not just multiple orgasms, but exponential pleasure. He fully planned to deliver, and he had every intention of making her cry out in ecstasy again. He reached for her thigh, hooking her leg onto his hip. He went deeper like that, electricity surging in his veins as he drove into her.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, grasping him harder. He dropped a hand between her legs, sliding a finger against her. With that touch, her pants turned fevered, her moans frenzied, as she called out that she was coming again. Crying out his name in his ear.
Bliss. Fucking bliss.
“I love making you come,” he murmured as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, slowing his thrusts as she came down from her high.
“It’s so easy with you. Coming is so easy with you,” she said breathlessly.
Masculine pride suffused him from the compliment, but also from the way she responded to his touch. Nothing was better than this kind of connection, this sort of undeniable chemistry. Unless it was one more orgasm for the woman he craved. He lifted both her legs, wrapped them around his back, and crossed the few feet to her bed.
While still fucking her.
Yep. He did it. He stayed inside her because he did not want to leave. Not ’til he attempted to send her up and over another peak. He lowered her to the bed, picking up the pace, thrusting into her.
“Wrap your legs tight around me,” he told her, and she hooked her ankles over his ass as he moved inside her. He took her like that, as deep as he could, hoping to hit that magic spot inside her that could send her over the edge again.
Because hell, he was nearly there himself. If he was going to have any success at this hat trick, it needed to be now. Right the fuck now. Not later.
“Fuck. I can’t hold back,” he muttered, and the base of his spine ignited, his muscles tensing, as lust stormed through him, marching across his bones, taking no prisoners.
As his climax crashed into him, he heard the most glorious sound.
Her. Crying out again. Writhing beneath him. Grabbing his hair, calling his name, coming undone. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
He was so damn happy.
He lay next to her, hot, sweaty, panting, and sated, as they floated down from the clouds.
“Third time’s a charm,” she said, then kissed him, and he kissed her back. Soft, slow, lingering.
“Can I stay the night?” He didn’t want to leave. Couldn’t imagine being elsewhere. Her room was the only place he wanted to be.
“You’d better.”
They didn’t fall asleep right away. They stayed up, chatting in the afterglow of great sex. Sometimes, conversations were made easier because of the endorphins already flowing. They talked about work and some of their favorite jobs. She told him about a dive trip in the Bahamas that she’d loved, and he shared more of the Stradivarius story. When he finished, she ran her fingers once more against the scar on his forearm and whispered sweetly, “I like this. It’s sexy. It says you’re rugged.”
“You like your men rugged, Steph?” he asked, brushing a hand through her soft hair.
She shrugged, snuggling closer in his arms. He liked having her like this. He pressed his nose to her hair, inhaling her.
“I do,” she said. “It says you can do things. My ex did nothing. But you—you work hard, and I like that.”
He smiled. “I try. I like working, and I like that it enables me to take care of my family.”
She sighed, a happy, contented sound that worked its way under his skin. That weaved through him, seducing him. He had to be careful or he would start feeling things for her. Dangerous things that he had no room for in his life.
But the way his heart tripped just being near her told him he was already there.
She turned to face him. “This is crazy,” she said, gesturing from him to her. “And it’s everything we said we shouldn’t do.”
He kissed her forehead. “I know.”
“But yet you want to spend the night.”
“I do. So much,” he said softly, letting a sliver of vulnerability slip through. He didn’t usually show this side of himself, but he couldn’t find his resistance tonight. It was gone, and he was done searching for it. “For some reason, I can’t fight this right now,” he said softly, running a thumb over her chin. “You have your hooks in me.”
She mimed latching on to him, and he laughed, then wrapped an arm around her. She felt so damn good in his arms. So right. She wasn’t a bit like Rosalinda. She wasn’t a mercenary. She wasn’t conniving. Steph had so much at stake, so much to lose. Like him, she only wanted justice. She only wanted to do the right thing. He told himself this situation wasn’t remotely similar to the Medici job, and that reassurance made it easier to say the next thing. He took a deep, fueling breath, then laid it out. “What do you say we stop fighting this and just give in for the rest of the time we’re here?”