Home > Renegade (Elite Ops #5)(10)

Renegade (Elite Ops #5)(10)
Author: Lora Leigh

If she was five four it would shock the hell out of him. That long mass of straight, thick dark blond hair was the kind men dreamed of. Hair that would wrap around a man, hold him to her, bind him.

Nik grimaced, his fingers going to his dick as warm water sluiced down his body.

As tiny as she was, he could think of nothing but seeing her above him, lowering herself on the heavy shaft of his cock, her cries of pleasure echoing around him. Her pu**y would be snug. His fingers tightened on his c**k at the thought. She'd be hot and slick. He'd make sure she was wet enough to take him, but she would still feel the bite of erotic pleasure-pain.

Her face would flush. Would those amethyst eyes darken? Hell yeah, they would.

He stroked his fingers over the heavy shaft as he imagined her taking him, easing her hot little pu**y down the thick stalk of his dick as her heavenly lashed eyelashes fluttered in pleasure.

He'd watch her. His fingers tightened further. He'd have to watch her take his cock. Watch plump, flushed folds of flesh part for the wide crest as she worked herself down it. Her heavy juices would coat his shaft, ease along it to the tight sack of his balls.

His jaw tightened at the thought as heated water ran over the taut sack.

God, he could get into f**king her.

Once he was lodged inside her to the hilt he'd watch her face as she rode him. Watch all that long hair as it flowed around her. Maybe it would cover her br**sts, her tight ni**les peeking through the strands.

And he could brush her hair back so his fingers could touch her tender ni**les. Nipples that would be reddened, swollen from his earlier suckling of them. He would have caressed them, tasted them with his tongue as his hands stroked her body. Every inch of it. No part of her sweet flesh would go untouched by him. His hands, his lips, his tongue, would know every sweet inch of her flesh.

His hand moved faster, the thought of the pleasure that could be had building in his balls until they were tight, tortured with the need to come.

He would grip her shapely h*ps in his large hands. He bet he could span her waist with his fingers. He'd hold her, keeping her from moving too fast, from finishing it too soon. He'd press her tightly onto him as she filled herself with his erection, ensure that her delicate little cl*t rubbed against him. She would cry out then. Her soft pu**y would ripple around the hard flesh, suck at it as she fought for release, as the tight portal grew hotter, slicker.

He pumped his hand down his dick as he imagined it. Imagined her crying out his name, her hands pressing into his stomach for leverage, her head tossing, reddened lips parting as she fought to breathe.

He would give her what she needed then.

Hell yes. He'd hold her h*ps tight and buck beneath her, driving deeper and harder inside the heated depths of her sweet cunt as he felt her unravel around him. Her pu**y would clench and flex. It would spasm with convulsing, heavy strokes along his dick as she arched back.

And he would f**k her harder. He would thrust his c**k inside her as hard and deep as possible as he felt her release, felt her juices spilling along his shaft before he came with her.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, eyes closed, his balls tightening, surges of sensation racing up his spine as his c**k jerked in his grip and his seed began to spurt.

He'd drive in hard. A groan tore from him. He'd lodge inside her to the hilt. His come spurted again as his hand tightened, moved faster. And he'd f**k her as he came. He'd pump into her with all the ferocious hunger and building need he'd denied himself for so long. A heavy snarl of hunger echoed around him as his abdomen clenched and the last harsh convulsions of release shot from his dick.

Ah, God. He'd give it all to her.

He leaned against the shower wall and fought to catch his breath.

As tiny as she was, as tender as she would be, he'd not be able to hold back.

You're a monster. My God, Nikolai. Do you care nothing for me? Do you not care that you hurt me every time you touch me? Is it not enough that I suffer in your arms?

Nik flinched at the memory, the harsh words tearing through his head as sanity returned.

Would Mikayla see him as a monster as well? A man whose needs would only hurt her?

Of course she would. Disgust tore through him. He wouldn't be able to help but hurt her. She was too small, and he was much too large.

And there was no future for it.

He was a dead man. Dead men didn't hunger. Dead men didn't need.

He stared down at his dick in surprise. Dead men might not do any of those things, but that wasn't a dead man's c**k he held in his hand. It forcibly reminded him that his hand was ineffective in stilling a hunger he shouldn't have.

"Fuck." He muttered the word with an edge of disgust before jerking a cloth from the rack inside the shower and soaping it quickly.

He didn't have time for this.

There was always a chance that Maddix would come up with the two hundred and eighty thousand dollars that his fee worked out to--with the discount. He should have ignored the call, he thought as he began to wash himself roughly. He should have forgotten that he still possessed some measure of honor. He should have denied the debt and moved on to the next mission.

There were so many things he should have done and hadn't. His biggest mistake had been staring into amethyst eyes and forgetting that he was a dead man.

Shaking his head, Nik finished his shower, dried off roughly, then dressed in jeans and T-shirt before moving to the bedroom and lacing hiking boots on his feet.

On the off chance Maddix managed to come up with the fee, Nik needed to be prepared. He needed more information on the players involved in this little game. There had to be more than Tehya had managed to come up with.

Someone was lying, Maddix Nelson or Mikayla Martin, and Nik needed to at least have a place to start. Maddix had been too damned sincere perhaps, though it wasn't easy for most people to lie to Nik. He'd seen and heard every lie and knew the expressions and contradictory reactions that went with them.

Mikayla Martin had accused Maddix of murdering one of his employees, and rather than being enraged, Maddix had been confused. He hadn't struck out at the girl; neither had the chief of police. Maddix was playing a damned good game, Nik had to admit.

But then, so was Mikayla.

Moving to the small kitchenette, he was in the process of moving his backpack when a firm knock sounded at the door.

Nik turned and stared at the dark green panel in disgust. It seemed as though Maddix Nelson may have come up with the funds after all.

   
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