Celt. (Den of Mercenaries Book 2) Read online

  She wanted him, there had been no mistaking that with the way she responded so readily to him.

  But since tonight would be the first of what he hoped would be many nights with her, he wanted to learn her, figure out what made her come undone.

  Kissing her one last time, he moved his lips down along her jaw, over her breast, and down her abdomen until he was at her center, covered in lace. Bringing his hand down, he pressed his fingers against her slit, dragging them up and back down, feeling the quiver run through her.

  As he repeated the motion, his gaze shot up to her face, wanting to watch her reaction, see the pleasure he was giving her. But then that wasn’t enough, and in the next moment, he was dragging that material to the side, revealing her slippery sex to his gaze.

  He hadn’t meant to take more than a taste, just wanting a sample of what his cock would be buried in, but the minute he had his lips on her pussy, his tongue dragging up her slit before delving between, he knew that wouldn’t be enough.

  Amber was just so fucking wet, and he had barely touched her. His cock almost hurt from how hard it was. A whine left her lips as she reached for him, but he caught her hands, interlocking their fingers and pressing their joined hands back against the couch.

  She was undulating against his mouth, her cries made him lick at her harder, but it wasn’t until he had his lips around her clit and gave it a suck did her back arch like a bow and a gush of sweetness hit his tongue.

  Fucking hell, he wouldn’t last.

  Forcing himself away from her, he sat up on the couch, dragging her onto his lap, her back to his front.

  A shuddering exhale left her as her head fell back against his shoulder, her back arching farther. He knew, even before he got his hand back in her knickers that she was going to be wetter than before for him.

  He meant to take his time, find all the spots that made her squirm and beg, but he was just as fucking impatient as she was.

  “Show me how you like to come,” he said instead, feeling her response to his words as she arched further, desperately seeking out the fingers he was refusing to give her.

  As she started to follow his instruction, his gaze shot to the mirror across the room, their reflection giving him the perfect view as he watched his fingers slip beneath the waistband, following the same path her hand had taken.

  Just watching her drag a finger down her slit, then coming back up to rub at her clit had his cock throbbing with need. No, she wasn’t shy by any means, and he knew once he got her beneath him she wouldn’t hold back, giving as good as she got.

  But right now, he just wanted to watch her come, watch her fall to pieces.

  Dragging the cup of her bra down, he cupped her breast, feeling the cool metal of the bar she had through her nipple. The second he tugged at it, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, she moaned low, her hips shifting, grinding against his cock.

  She was a beautiful sight, getting herself off like that, but it wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her come undone beneath his hands.

  Tugging her hand free of her panties, he lifted her off him just enough to drag her panties down her thighs before he had his hand in between her legs again, fingers seeking out the slippery flesh between. Touching her gently, he didn’t linger at her clit like she seemed to so desperately need, instead drifting lower until he could press his middle finger inside her, taking his time as he felt her pussy clench around the invasion.

  But as quickly as he was inside her, he was pulling back out only to add a second. A wordless cry fell from her lips, her hips grinding in his lap as she tried to force his fingers deeper, but he dropped a hand to her waist and held her steady.

  She was close already, so fucking close that he could feel the greedy pull of her walls around his fingers. But he wasn’t ready to let her come yet — he liked her exactly as she was.

  “Kyrnon, please.” It was the most she could manage.

  “So bloody impatient,” he muttered beneath his breath, punctuating his words with a twist of his fingers, feeling another gush of hot arousal cover his fingers.

  He was sure he could keep her like that, dangerously close to the edge, but when he drew her back against him, dragging his teeth along the cord in her neck, she exploded, and when she did, her head fell back, her mouth parting.

  “Kyrnon, yes!”

  His control snapped the moment he heard his name on her lips, sending a flood of adrenaline rushing through him. On minute he still had her in his lap forcing an orgasm out of her, the next she was on her back, and he was crawling between her spread thighs.

  Breathless pleas fell from her mouth as she reached for him, desperate to draw him closer, and seeing her like that had him shoving his boxer-briefs down, too impatient to get them all the way off.

  As he squeezed his cock, trying to reign himself in, he couldn’t remember a time when he wanted to fuck somebody as much as he wanted to fuck her in this moment. His blood was racing with need, and it was taking every fucking bit of concentration in him not to just shove into her.

  But he wasn’t going to deny himself much longer.

  Grabbing a foil packet from the pocket of his pants, he tore it open, pulling the latex from it and rolling it onto his cock.

  Grabbing hold of her leg with rough fingers, he dragged her closer, hooking her leg around his waist as he angled the blunt tip of his cock at her entrance and pushed forward.

  She was like a fucking vice, squeezing him before he could even get completely inside her. The need to just take her right then and there made a sharp sensation slide down his spine, but he held back the urge.

  He wanted to drag this out for as long as he could because he knew just by the way she responded to his touch that if she was made to wait, her orgasm would be stronger.

  When he was finally in as far as her body would let him, he gave her a moment to adjust to the feel of them, and when he felt her go lax, he carefully eased out of her, and back in again.

  “Fuck, you feel so good.” Her words were a soft, heady sound, making that smile on his face grow wider.

  “Does it ache?” he asked, cupping her breast a moment before he slid his hand back down, using his thumb to make tight circles around her clit.

  She was beyond words, full lips parted as a keen sound clawed its way out of her throat, washing over him so acutely, his next thrust into her came harder, faster until he was in a harsh rhythm inside her.

  It took every bit of considerable control not to give himself over to the pleasure that was heating his spine. Jesus, it was so fecking good that she was greedy like this, soundlessly begging for his cock as he fucked her harder than before.

  He didn’t even realize he had slipped into Gaelic as he told her how much he loved fucking her pussy — how he was about to come from the way she was squeezing him.

  It was like a fire was raging beneath his skin, one that she was feeding with every moan out of her mouth. It wasn’t just the feel of her pussy squeezing his cock that was getting him off, but the breathless moans, the way she clung to him so tightly.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever gotten so close so fast, but when he felt her go tight around him again, Kyrnon couldn’t put it off any longer, coming so hard he saw stars.

  As his senses came back, becoming more aware of the droplets of sweat sliding down his back in the coolness of the room, he knew without a doubt that once was definitely not going to be enough.

  Slowly pulling free of her, he carefully removed the condom and tied it off, dragging his pants back up as he went over to the kitchen to drop it in the trash.

  Turning off the television and leaving everything else for the morning, he helped Amber to her feet, and just because he wanted to, he carried her back into his bedroom and deposited her on the bed.

  It didn’t take long before she was dozing, having slipped off to sleep once he was beside her. While Kyrnon may not have been mentally tired, she had managed to drain every bit of e
nergy he had left. Usually, he would be perfectly fine to leave his partner slumbering as he went off to do something else, but instead after going out to double check and make sure all his alarms were set and the place was a fortress once more, he rejoined her in bed.

  A few hours, he thought as he closed his eyes, draping an arm around her and drawing her back into his hold.

  That was all he needed.

  * * *

  It was the warmth of the sun beaming down on her that woke Amber the next morning. Lifting her head, she peeked over to the other side of the bed, but it was vacant, and as she laid her hand where she vaguely remembered Kyrnon having been the night before, she found his spot to be cold.

  As she became more aware, sitting up and dragging the sheet with her to shield her nudity, it didn’t take her too long to figure out where Kyrnon had gone. She could hear pans rattling as he moved around in the kitchen, and if she wasn’t mistaken, that heavenly aroma that was wafting out of there was the smell of bacon.

  Amber was also glad that she wasn’t suffering from a dull headache from the few shots she’d had the night before. Usually, she felt something the morning after having drank anything.

  But then again, she also might not have been feeling effects because she had sweated out what little whiskey she’d had. She wasn’t even sure how long they had spent out on his couch, then down on his floor.

  Whether she wanted to or not, remembering the way his hands felt on her made her breath catch.

  Figuring it would be best not to hide out in his bedroom, she slipped out of his bed, heading over to the walk-in closet she had seen him enter the night before.

  There weren’t many suits that lined the walls, his wardrobe made up of mostly jeans and tees. One wall was even dedicated to strictly boots, pairs that looked like they were used for combat as opposed to fashion. Also, she happened to find a drawer full of sweatpants.

  Of course she’d known that he was full of it when he told her he had nothing for her to wear the night before, but it was different seeing the evidence of that lie.

  Grabbing a pair, she pulled them on, pulling the strings at the waistband to tighten them on her. And finally, grabbing one of the hanging T-shirts, she went in search of his bathroom.

  It didn’t take her long to freshen up — the beauty of carrying travel-sized items in her satchel at all times since she worked a lot of odd hours — then she was off to the kitchen where she found Kyrnon standing at the stove with a pair of sleep-pants hanging low on his waist as he fried bacon in a large cast iron skillet.

  Before now, she hadn’t given much thought to the idea of his looks still affecting her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten an up close and personal view of him the night before, but it was just the way he stood there so effortlessly—hair in disarray and nothing to protect his chest from popping grease — she found herself smiling all over again.

  She felt lucky.

  Climbing up onto one of the bar stools, she rested her elbows on the island and watched him work, tracing the faint scars that decorated his back with her eyes. She had seen the ones on his chest quite clearly, but she didn’t recall seeing these.

  These looked a little more deliberate, as though someone had inflicted them on him.

  As he finished removing the last few strips of bacon from the pan, turning the stove off, he moved in search of a plate. He seemed so focused on his task that she wondered if he even knew she was there, watching him. It wasn’t like she had announced her presence, but she got an answer to that when he finally plated the strips and set them down in front of her, along with a glass of orange juice.

  Coming around the island, he briefly paused at her side, pressing a lingering kiss to the delicate skin just below her ear and whispered, “Morning, lovie.”

  Yeah … she was putty.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t grown up around varying accents her whole life, but there was something about the way Kyrnon spoke that made her wonder whether she would just melt right through the floor whenever he said anything.

  “Morning,” she said watching him circle back round to pour her a cup of coffee. She found she liked him in the morning.

  When he had the mug sitting in front of her, he asked, “Did you have a good night?”

  One of the best nights of her life if she was being honest, but she simply said, “I did.”

  He was about to say something else, when the strong vibrations coming from his pocket stole his attention. She didn’t know what kind of settings he had on his phone, but she didn’t think she had ever heard any that loud.

  His gaze on his phone, he said, “I need to take this. Give me a moment.”

  Kyrnon stepped off to the side as she remained at the island, finishing her breakfast. She was about done when he rejoined her.

  “I have an errand to run, boss’ orders.”

  “That’s fine.”

  She needed to get going anyway. He could drop her off at home, and maybe after she pulled herself together, she could get some more work done.

  It took her a moment to realize Kyrnon hadn’t responded, but when she did, turning her head to look at him, she found he was closer than before.

  His expression turned softer as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking over her cheek. “How’s about a kiss?”

  It was never just simply a kiss with Kyrnon. No, he had to take over her every thought, consume her mouth like he was trying to take everything from her. The unyielding press of his lips, the lazy way in which he moved his tongue to tangle with hers, and finally just the slightest bite of pain as he nipped her bottom lip.

  Putty.

  “Three days,” he said after drawing back. “Your place.”

  It was a date.

  Chapter Eight

  There was something about cleaning that Amber hated.

  From washing dishes, only to put them in the dishwasher after because that was what her mother had always taught her to do, to sweeping and dusting every little thing. It might have been a bit easier had she not let her apartment get so bad.

  When she had woken up that morning she decided that she was finally ready to tackle the task of unpacking her place. It didn’t help that Kyrnon was supposed to be coming over. She had been all for it, at least until she got to her seventh box and decided she needed a break.

  That was an hour ago … and in that time, she had managed to do absolutely nothing but sit on her couch and go through an old photo album.

  Procrastination at its finest.

  Now that she was back up, sorting through the last of it, she came to a conclusion.

  She liked Kyrnon.

  Maybe more than she had previously thought, even if she hadn’t heard much from him in the days after she spent the night at his place. The next morning he had texted her, letting her know he’d be out of town for the next few days, but promised he would be back and even set a time for him to come over.

  Everything had been good and she had been excited, at least until she hadn’t heard from him. She had texted him a couple of times, but when he didn’t respond, neither did she. Chalking it up to him just being busy, she had put it out of her mind, figuring he would contact her when he could.

  But that had been three days ago.

  And she still hadn’t heard anything.

  Even still, she cleaned her place up as though he was still coming.

  It wasn’t that her place was particularly dirty, but cluttered would be a better word. There was always something out, whether canvases stacked against a wall in the corner, books on the coffee table, or loads of painting supplies that seemed to take up far more space than she could have thought possible, but she liked it that way. It made her place feel lived in.

  By the time she finished sorting through it all, it actually looked like there was some reason behind the eclectic decor that made up her living room.

  It was only going on six, so she still had enough time to grab a shower and cook dinner. She had fretted over what to ma
ke, trying to guess what he would and wouldn’t like. She, at least, knew he ate meat, so deciding on steak and baked potatoes wasn’t a hard sale.

  Taking her time in the shower, Amber scrubbed away the smell of pine-sol and bleach, inhaling the cool aroma of coconut and lime. And by the time she was back out again and toweling dry, she was sure she smelled like the beaches back home.

  Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, Amber turned back to her closet to find something to wear.

  Now, the only thing she needed to do was wait.

  * * *

  Disappointment was an all-consuming, crushing emotion.

  It didn’t hit her all at once, rather slowly spreading its way through her as the minutes waned on, until it was the only thing she could think of.

  She had been sitting on the couch, watching the wax drip from the glowing candles onto her refurbished hardwood table as she wondered, for what felt like the hundredth time, why she was still sitting there.

  It was a quarter to twelve, and she had long since started doubting Kyrnon would show up. But if she was being honest, she had started doubting it hours ago. Kyrnon hadn’t struck her as the type of person to just stand someone up, but what did she really know? She hardly knew him.

  And considering she had definitely slept with him the first night she spent with him, that probably wasn’t a point in her favor.

  Though every bit of her rebelled at the idea of reaching out to him, she still tried calling him, hoping that maybe something had come up.

  But it just rang.

  And rang.

  Until she had hung up and tossed the phone on the table, refusing to pick it back up no matter how she felt.

  And once midnight had come and gone, she finally resolved herself to the truth as she blew out the candles and got to her feet, watching the smoke billow out in soft waves from the spent wicks.

  Kyrnon wasn’t coming.

  She was glad for the darkness of the room—now she wouldn’t have to see the food that would be left untouched.

  Stripping out of her clothes and changing into something far more comfortable, she tossed her outfit in a laundry basket across the room, then burrowed beneath her covers, breathing in the clean scent of fresh laundry.