Maya Banks - Sweet Temptation

He was getting off quick, and it didn’t really matter if she did or not.

You’re a bastard. You have no business touching her.

It didn’t matter that he’d warned her. He’d been brutally honest with her. She knew what to expect and she’d accepted that. And still, guilt ate away at his gut.

He slammed into her, driving harder as he felt his orgasm flash over him. One ... two more quick, brutal thrusts and he was spilling himself inside her.

As he eased away, his cum smeared over her skin, and it turned him on all over again.

He turned away in disgust, reaching for the tray. He’d turned into an animal. Always, always he’d put a woman’s pleasure above his own. He loved and cherished women, and yet he treated Angelina with contempt almost. All because she claimed to care about him.

His hands shook when he set the tray down on the bed. Angelina slowly got up and walked into the bathroom. When she returned, no accusation reflected in her eyes. No animosity. He could swear they still brimmed with affection and trust.

She crawled onto the bed and sat cross-legged next to him. He handed her a plate but didn’t look at her.

“Do you have the remote?” she asked.

He reached over to the nightstand to get the remote and handed it to her.

They ate in silence, the television covering the awkwardness. She ate the sandwich he’d fixed and periodically switched channels. After the thirteenth channel, he cast her a sideways look.

“I thought guys were the serial flippers?”

She grinned. “Can’t help it. Short attention span. It used to bug the shit out of David. Hannah would leave the room when we started arguing.”

For the first time since Angelina had burst into his well-ordered existence, he didn’t experience a surge of pain when she talked about David and Hannah.

“She never did like arguing. She was a born peacemaker.”

Angelina nodded. “And I was a born hothead. Not sure where I got it. David said our dad was a lot like Hannah. Quiet, reserved. I think David took after him. He was always so even keel. He used to tease me and tell me I got all the Latin genes.”

She put her sandwich down and turned her soft dark eyes on him. “Do you ever see your folks, Micah?”

He recoiled and looked away. Where the hell had that come from? How much did she know about his family anyway? He never talked about them. As far as he was concerned they didn’t exist. His family was David and Hannah, and they were dead.

“No,” he said shortly.

“Why not?” she prompted. “It’s been a long time. David said you hadn’t seen them since you left home all those years ago.”

“Then you have the answer to your question.”

She sighed. “I thought maybe you’d gone to see them after David and Hannah died.”

He turned back to her, his expression hard. “Why would I do that? They aren’t my family, Angel. My family died.”

She frowned unhappily. “What happened with them? Why do you hate them so much?”

His laugh cracked and sounded pretty pathetic. “I don’t hate them. To hate someone you have to feel. I don’t think about them at all. They donated genetic material to me. That’s the extent of the credit I give them in my life.”

“Wow,” she breathed out.

“There won’t ever be any Hallmark make-up moments with them. They stopped existing the moment I walked out of the door when I was eighteen. I’m happy with the arrangement, and I don’t really give a shit whether they are or not.”

“What did they do?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “That’s been years ago, Angel. No sense dragging it back up. It just doesn’t matter anymore.”

She turned her attention back to the TV and continued flipping the channels until he was ready to snatch the damn remote from her hand and knock her in the head with it.

“You done?” he muttered as he reached for her plate.

“Mmm hmm.”

He gathered the dishes and the tray and trekked downstairs to return everything to the kitchen. When he got back upstairs, Angelina had burrowed under the covers, the remote still firmly in her grasp.

He stripped down to his underwear and stood by the side of the bed.

“If you promise not to knee me in the balls, I’ll ditch the underwear too.”

She looked up and laughed. “Have problems with women being too active in their sleep?”

He grunted as he slipped out of his underwear and climbed into bed.

“You try getting your balls rearranged in the middle of the night. Not a nice way to wake up.”

She giggled and quickly burrowed into his side. She made a sweet sound of contentment and lifted the remote to turn off the TV. Thank God.

“Micah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Did you, David and Hannah all sleep together? I mean in the same bed?”

He paused. Where the fuck had that come from?

“Angel, honey, you lived with us. Surely you ought to know the answer to that.”

“I never ventured into your part of the house. I was never sure how much you were comfortable with me knowing.”

Micah frowned. “Hannah never talked to you? I mean I thought women dished about pretty much everything.”

“Hannah wasn’t like that. You know how private she was.”

“We had two bedrooms but more often than not, we shared the same one. Sometimes if one of us wanted some private time with Hannah, the other would bunk in the other bedroom for the night.”

“I always thought yours and David’s relationship was pretty special. You were there before Hannah, I mean with David.”

Micah nodded. “I met David right after I left home. Your father had just died and he was taking care of you.”

“Yeah, I remember,” she said softly.

“I met Hannah after we got out of the academy. Since David and I were so close, we all naturally spent a lot of time together. I suspected they had feelings for each other, but both were too honorable to act on them. They were both afraid of hurting me.”

He smiled at the sudden flash of memories.

“It takes a pretty special man to do what you did.”

He shrugged. “It just seemed natural. I never gave it any thought. It never occurred to me to be jealous. If it had been any other man, I would have killed him, but it was David and I knew David would never do anything to betray our friendship.”

He hadn’t realized he was stroking her arm. She was nestled in his arms and his fingers wandered up and down her skin as he remembered the good times. It was nice to be able to think of them without the flood of grief that always came.

“I’m not trying to replace her,” Angelina whispered. “I know how much you loved her.”

Micah pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head. “I know, Angel girl. I know.”

Angelina stirred and stretched against the warmth of Micah’s body. Lazy contentment invaded her limbs, and for a moment she lay there, enjoying the comfort of his arms.

Remembering the events of the night before and the fact she hadn’t had a shower made her roll away and head for the bathroom. She left Micah sound asleep, his other arm thrown carelessly across his pillow.

Moments later she stepped under the hot spray of the shower and closed her eyes in pure ecstasy. Hot water was the cure-all. Wars could be prevented if everyone started the day with a steaming hot shower.

She stood there, letting the water stream over her face, washing away worry, strain, fear and hopelessness. It was a new day.

Eyes still closed, face turned up into the spray, she reached blindly for the bottle of shampoo. A hand gripped her wrist, and she pulled her head back and opened her eyes.

Micah, naked, droplets of water beading on his chest, stepped into the shower with her. He gently lowered her arm back to her waist and retrieved the shampoo himself.

He stepped in behind her and squeezed shampoo into his hand.

“Lean your head back,” he said huskily.

He lathered the shampoo over her hair, working it into her scalp. When he was done, he pressed forward, forcing her underneath the showerhead again.

With the water beating down, rinsing the soap from her hair, he hiked her right leg upward, her knee rubbing against the shower wall.

He positioned his cock at her pussy and thrust forward. The force sent her into the wall, her hands flying up to brace herself.

He gripped her waist and held her tight as his hips slapped against her ass.

Pleasure rippled through her groin. Her pussy fluttered in response and gripped his cock as he went deeper. Water rained fast and furious. It felt hotter than before, and steam rose as their breathing sped up.

It was an ambush plain and simple. A quick, hard fuck and she loved every second of it. It was raw, primitive, a man reaching out to his woman, his possession. It was a reminder that she had no power except what he gave her. He took, she gave, and she gloried in her offering.

Trapped between the hard wall and his equally hard body, she took the punishing drive of his pelvis.

“I want your ass, Angel,” he growled in her ear. “I’m tempted to see if you can take me right now, right here, just like this.”

A shudder rolled down her body, and she closed her eyes as she balanced precariously on the edge of orgasm.

His movements gentled. He bit into her shoulder, a hard bite, and then he licked the spot before nipping again. Then he sucked hard, his intent to mark her, a visible reminder of his presence. As if she could ever forget.

He stroked in and out. She writhed helplessly against him, wanting more, wanting it harder, just a little push over the edge.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered against her ear.

He nipped at her earlobe then sucked it between his teeth.

“Tell me, Angel. You don’t come until you tell me.”

“Fuck me,” she gasped. “Make it hurt. Hard, Micah. Please.”

He slammed into her, driving her mercilessly into the wall. Her cheek banged against the slick surface heated by the water.

One more. Just once more.

He withdrew, reached down and spread her buttocks, pushing upward so that she was open and vulnerable. Then he ripped into her again and she fell over. Down, hard. Pleasure, mindless, numbing pleasure rolled over and over, expanding until she quivered, held tight between the world of pain and endless, sweet sensation.

He pulled out, and she registered that he hadn’t come yet. She tried to drop to her knees, anticipating that he’d want to come in her mouth, but he caught her, holding her up.

“Easy, Angel girl,” he murmured.

When he was sure she could stand, he reached for the soap and a washcloth. To her surprise, he gently soaped her body, taking extra care around her pussy that still pulsed from her orgasm. Each touch was agony and he didn’t linger.

He followed the path of the washcloth with his mouth, his lips and tongue heating a path much hotter than the water. He kissed her skin so tenderly that her heart ached. How could he say he didn’t care, that he didn’t want to care when his every action contradicted his words?

Even when he tried to punish her, when he pushed, expecting her to balk, there was such torment in his eyes that she knew it wasn’t what he wanted to do but what he thought he should do.

And now his every touch, his every kiss, was an apology.

She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the tender care he lavished on her body.

When finally he was done, he reached up to turn the water off. She swayed as he let her go, and he put a hand on her arm to steady her.

“Wait here while I get a towel,” he said.

A moment later he returned and extended his hand to help her from the shower. As soon as she stepped out, he enfolded her in the large towel.

She went willingly into his arms and buried her head against his chest as he rubbed at her skin.

He slid a finger underneath her chin and gently tilted her head up until she looked at him. Their gazes connected, and she saw so much in his eyes that she knew he wasn’t aware of. He tried to keep himself closed off, but what she saw now took her breath away. It gave her hope. It made her believe.

His mouth lowered to hers in the most tender of kisses. Their lips made soft sounds as they moved together. Warm, so sweet. No one had ever kissed her like this. There was so much emotion, so much feeling. Did he feel it too? Would he retreat?