Pushing in deeper, Travis forced himself to release the captive bud of her nipple to draw in a hard, deep breath. Then, he simply watched her face come alive as he began to fill her pu**y with his fingers.
Stroking inside her with tight, forceful thrusts, Travis found himself entranced by the emotions washing over her expression. She had always kept herself in such tight control in the past that it was often impossible to know what she was feeling, if she was hurt, angry, or happy.
There was no mistaking the pleasure on her face now. Her neck arched with it, her eyes were slitted, staring back at him in pleasured agony as he f**ked the sweet portal of her pu**y with two fingers while raking around the delicate bud of her cl*t with his thumb.
She was more responsive now than she had been so many months ago when he took her virginity. She was arching beneath his touch, driving his fingers deeper inside her, her h*ps flexing, grinding into each thrust he made inside her.
The snug depths of her sex milked his fingers as he stroked inside her, rippled around them.
Her juices flowed like sweet, hot honey, slickening his fingers with each thrust.
Taking her like this was agony and ecstasy. He could watch her face, watch the pleasure that darkened her eyes and tightened her expression. But his c**k was raging, demanding, throbbing inside his jeans with a voracious desire nearly impossible to control.
He had so very little time with her this afternoon. The first test of her memories that the Elite Ops was demanding would begin here, today. They knew she would end up back here once she read the report Desmond Harrington had been given by the investigative firm he had hired. She was being watched. The second she had left her home and driven toward his house, the plan had been put into effect.
What he hadn’t expected was to have her walk into his arms and take what had been on his own mind since the night before. The passion burned brighter between them now than it ever had. It had always simmered, burned, but now it flamed with a white-hot heat he couldn’t avoid. As though Lilly had decided for herself what she wanted, and how she was going to take it. She was a woman tired of waiting, whether consciously or unconsciously, and a part of him realized he had been dying for her to reach out and take it. Unfortunately, now that she had, he didn’t have the time he needed to revel in it.
“Damn.” The groan was ripped from his throat as he pulled back from her, sliding his fingers slowly, so slowly, from the incredibly hot depths of her pu**y.
His c**k throbbed in objection, his balls were drawn agonizingly tight beneath the shaft of his erection.
“Travis.” Silken hands gripped his shoulders, sharp little nails pricked against his flesh.
“What the hell is your problem?”
It was almost laughable. He wanted nothing more than to f**k her silly, but he was damned if he’d do it in front of an audience. And unless he missed his guess, they’d be there any second—
“Travis, you have company.” Nik knocked on the door, the sound causing her to flinch as Travis shot a murderous look toward the entrance.
Hell, this was just what he needed right now. His woman lying hot, silky wet, and willing beneath him and company on the other side of the door.
Grimacing, Travis pushed himself to his feet and stared down at her as she hurriedly fixed her clothes. Her face was flushed, br**sts heaving; the hard points of her ni**les were easy to detect beneath the thin silk blouse she wore.
Her soft lips were swollen, her hair mussed around her face. She was so damned pretty he had to clench his back teeth to keep from going back to her.
“Remind me to check your schedule next time before I decide to visit you,” she snapped, her voice low. She looked presentable again. “You have too much damned company at inappropriate times.”
He grunted at that, ran his hand around the back of his neck, then strode to the door and jerked it open.
“Travis.” Santos Bahre, co-commander of Elite Two, stood on the other side, along with his partner, Rhiannon McConnelly.
Santos was six-three, had dark hair brushed back from his face, a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and he wore a gray silk suit and white shirt, paired with expensive leather shoes.
He was every inch the suave, debonair Irish pimp he portrayed.
Beside him stood his counterpart and co-commander, Rhiannon McConnelly. The madam to his high-class pimp. The cover they had created was perfectly designed to allow the female agents they oversaw to work closely with the covert agents sent in on specialty assignments.
“Santos, Rhiannon.” Travis stepped back, wishing there were some way to warn Lilly, to guide her through this.
If she remembered her commanders at this point, then they were f**ked. The risk to the Elite Ops would be too high to allow her to stay in the game.
“You have company.” Smoothly cultured, Rhiannon’s voice was friendly and warm as she entered the room, her gaze going to Lilly.
They knew she had seen the file. They knew Lilly was aware of the report the investigator had compiled.
Travis turned in time to watch her face pale, her green eyes darken, widen, as she stepped back into the room.
“I’m leaving now.” Her voice trembled as she cast him a look filled with betrayal. “I won’t be back.”
Good. Lilly thought she was coming face to face with her pimp and her madam, not her commanders. And she was searching for a way to leave, a way out of the room other than the one they blocked.
“Does she think we’re here to force her back, Travis?” Rhiannon asked gently, her smile one of compassion and sympathy as she stared at Lilly. “What have you been telling this child about us anyway?”
“Child?” Santos murmured, the smooth hint of a brogue entering his voice. “You’re only a few years older than she, Rhia love.”
Lilly backed up further, her fingers moving restlessly at her thigh as though for the weapon she once wore there.
Instinct or memory? Travis wondered.
“I haven’t mentioned you, Rhia,” Travis assured her quietly as he watched Lilly, watched the pain and the denial that filled her face, her eyes.
He knew parts of her. Over the years, he had learned things he hadn’t realized he’d known about her. One thing he’d learned was that Lilly had pride. Enough pride that it had gotten her into trouble more than once.
She couldn’t see herself as a call girl, no matter how highly paid, no matter how exclusive or security-trained.
“He didn’t have to mention you,” Lilly spat out furiously. “My uncle has a full file on you.”