Page 34 of Secret Mission

A shockwave hits my brain.

The kiss is possessive. Utterly masculine and everything I’ve never felt in a kiss before.

His groan is rough, his tongue commanding as he takes me with the hot, determined swipe that’s meant for one thing—destroying boundaries.

The protest in my head is so faint, it’s barely a whisper now. Replaced by a chorus of,Oh yes. Oh my god.

“Fuck me. You kiss like an angel,” he rumbles and tilts me more, putting me exactly where he wants me, and goes impossibly deeper.

“You’re such a bad influence,” I breathe deliriously, gasping for a quick breath of air.

Lifting on my tiptoes, I move as close as I can, pulled into his vortex. Drinking from a well that magnetizes me to his body.

He tastes earthy. Steel and some kind of essence that’s too complex for words. A recipe that cranks my hunger to level one thousand.

Our fronts press together as he bends me backward. His wall of muscles locked against my electrified skin.

I want to climb him. I want to ride him. I?—

Oh, my god.

This has to stop.

I try to pull back, but he refuses to allow even an inch between us.

“This is wrong,” I rasp against his mouth.

“All right, sweetheart.” A warm chuckle forms in his throat. “Keep telling yourself that while you climb all over me some more.”

Clenching at his hips, my hands shake, but I do not push him away when he chuffs and takes my mouth again.

I can’t stop myself.

He feels too good.

Damn you, ovaries and hormones and things that are programmed in my DNA that make it impossible to deny what is happening right now.

I’ve never, ever been kissed by a man that could kiss.

NowI know.

What a fool I was to think those slobbering boys with weak tongues were actually kissing me.

He pulls back. “Fuck, little one, you taste like a disaster on the horizon.”

His words are raspy, his mouth sliding along my lower lip as he hotly whispers them into my ragged inhales.

When I weakly push against his chest, he breaks long enough to say, “Don’t.”

I’m out of my mind because I open to him again. Willingly rise to press against him even more.

God, his mouth. The taste of him.

Something is happening in my body.

A fire simmers low, shooting sparks of energy everywhere. It’s a hot, delicious sensation. Making my nipples and clit pulse with some kind of foreign rhythm.

Finally, I can’t take any more.

---