Page 119 of Broken Sentinel

There's no hesitation now. My hands slide into his hair, holding him to me as the kiss deepens. His tongue traces the seam of my lips and I open to him immediately, a soft sound of need escaping me as he explores my mouth. His body is hard against mine, all Sentinel muscle and controlled strength. His scent surrounds me, familiar from countless missions yet somehow new in this context.

"Zara," he breathes against my lips, voice rough with barely contained desire.

My name has never sounded like that before—like something a starving man hungers for. I respond by pressing closer, eliminating what little space remained between us.

His hands slide down my back to my hips, fingers digging in with just enough pressure to make me gasp. The soundseems to break something loose in him. Suddenly I'm being lifted, pressed against the door as my legs wrap instinctively around his waist.

The new position brings us into perfect alignment. Even through layers of clothing, I can feel exactly how much he wants me. The hard length of him presses against my core, sending electricity through my nerve endings.

"I need to feel you," he growls between kisses, tugging at his shirt.

He sets me down just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his chest and abdomen sculpted by years of Sentinel conditioning. Though I’d seen him like this before, I’d never been allowed to touch and though need is pulsing through me, making me impatient, I trace the defined muscles with hungry fingers, learning him by touch.

My own shirt then bra follows, tossed aside onto the floor. Trent's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of me, his gaze almost physical in its intensity. My nipples tighten under his heated stare.

"You're beautiful," he says, voice reverent.

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine again, hands exploring newly exposed skin. When his fingers brush the underside of my breasts, I arch into the touch, suddenly desperate for more contact. It’s almost painful in how much I want him.

He obliges, cupping my bare breast. His thumb circles the peak, drawing it into an even tighter bud that sends jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp.

“Fuck, I want you,” he says and then we’re stumbling toward the narrow sleeping platform, shedding remaining clothes along the way. When we reach it, both of us are down to undergarments, skin flushed with desire.

Trent pauses, eyes roaming my nearly naked body with appreciation that makes me feel powerful despite my vulnerability. I return the examination, taking in the broad shoulders,narrow waist, strong thighs—and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal straining against his last remaining piece of clothing. I’m practically salivating now.

"You sure about this?" he asks, control returning briefly through the haze of desire.

In answer, I hook my fingers into my underwear and slide them down my legs. His sharp intake of breath is immensely satisfying.

"I've wanted this—wanted you—for three years," I tell him, parting my thighs. "I'm done waiting."

Something primal flashes in his eyes. In one smooth movement, he removes his own underwear, finally standing before me completely exposed.

My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Sentinel enhancement or natural blessing, he's impressively endowed. The thought of him inside me sends a rush of heat between my legs, coupled with a tiny burst of fear because hello, how the hell isthatsupposed to fit inside me?

But there’s no time to think about it. He joins me on the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress in the most delicious way. His mouth finds my neck, trailing hot kisses from my pulse point to my collarbone while his hands explore my body with increasing boldness. Every single stroke feels like heaven.

When his fingers trace the curve of my hip, then slide between my thighs, I can't contain a moan. He finds me already wet for him, ready from mere kisses and touches.

I think I’ve been ready for him for years.

"Zara," he groans against my skin. "So responsive, aren’t you? All for m."

His fingers circle my center, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves with unerring precision. My hips buck involuntarily as pleasure spirals through me. My modified body seems to amplify every sensation, nerve endings firing with heightened intensity.

"Trent," I gasp as he slips one finger inside me. "Please."

He adds another finger, stretching me gently while his thumb continues circling my clit. The dual sensation sends me rocketing toward release embarrassingly quickly. I fight it, wanting to prolong this moment.

As if sensing my struggle, he slows his movements. "Let go," he murmurs against my ear. "We have all night."

The permission combined with a particularly clever twist of his fingers shatters my restraint. I come apart around his hand, back arching as waves of pleasure crash through me. My enhanced senses make the orgasm almost overwhelming—colors behind my eyelids, every nerve ending singing.

Holyfuck.

Before I've fully recovered, Trent shifts above me, positioning himself between my thighs. The blunt head of his cock presses against my entrance, not pushing inside yet—just there, hot and hard and promising.

Our eyes meet, and something passes between us beyond physical desire. Three years of partnership, of trust built and broken and rebuilt. Of wanting and waiting and finally giving in.

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