Touched by a Thief (9 page)

Her chin lifted. Her nipples pebbled with desire. Her creamy scent saturated the confines of the private plane cabin.

He took a deep breath, filling himself with her arousal.

Forever he’d be haunted by that scent, by the vision she made at that moment. Hot. Deviant. Full of lust. Determined. Urgent.
His
.

“I’m not getting any younger,” she announced when he didn’t make a move to remove his own clothing, but just kept staring at her naked body.

“You’re beautiful, Monty.”

Pink flushed her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. His compliment surprised him, too. There was no need for compliments between them. That wasn’t what they were about.

“Two weeks of R and R does a body good,” she said flippantly, frowning at him.

She was beautiful long before Gerard’s pampering. She didn’t need the expensive perfumes and powders Gerard lavished her with.

Ian ran his fingers over her arms. So tone, so sleek. Over the curve of her swollen breasts and down her slender sides, lightly trailing her tiny waist, her flared hips. Her body fit his perfectly, as if made to complete him.

He dropped to his knees, letting his hands continue their light caress over her buttocks, her thighs.

When his hands came to her knees, he leaned forward and dropped a soft kiss on her kneecaps, the right, then the left. She buckled toward him.

“Why are you torturing me?”

“Torturing you?” He laughed, his gaze skimming upward and settling on the apex of her legs. Hot, pink, and swollen, she looked primed. “From where I stand, er, kneel, I’d say you look more turned on than tortured.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“What is torturing you?”

“Why are you going so slow? This isn’t a seduction. I want fucked. Hard. Fast. You pounding into me. Cut the sentimental slow stuff. We both know that you don’t mean it and I don’t want it. Not from you or any man.” She reached down, grasped his t-shirt, and wadded the material in her fist. “Fuck me, Ian. Now.”

He laughed. She felt the same urgency as he did. But whereas he’d realized this was likely his last look, his last taste, his last everything with Monty, she just wanted to race toward the finish line.

God, he loved her smell, hot and musky. Needy. All woman. The swollen pink flesh between her legs glistened with moisture, making him want to dive in and greedily lap up every last drop of her cream.

Her fingers wound their way into his hair, snaking through the locks, massaging his scalp, pulling him toward her hot control center.

Ian’s tongue darted forward and thrust between her beautiful lips, licking back and forth, teasing her labia apart, forging into her pussy in mimic of how he’d invade her with his cock before they landed.

He smiled. She had. With Monty, he hadn’t had to hold back his own sexual urges, hadn’t had to worry about scaring some fragile woman. Monty had met him thrust for thrust, secret sexual fantasy for sexual fantasy.

“Spread your legs for me, honey,” he urged, pushing her legs apart.

She did as he ordered. He licked and supped on her flesh, gently tugging at her clit with his needy sucks. It wasn’t enough. Wasn’t all he wanted.

Wasn’t
where
he wanted.

“Bend over for me, Monty.”

“You planning to punish me?” Her eyes flashed with fire.

He’d spanked her once. A night when she’d pissed him off beyond belief. He’d given her specific instructions on what not to do. She’d done things her way all the same, had done exactly the opposite of what he’d asked.

Using his fingers, he spread her, filled his vision with her loveliness. Flattening his tongue, he licked her, letting the tip of his tongue tease her nub to a rigid peak.

“Ian,” she breathed.

He licked more, tracing circles around the nub, increasing his intensity, increasing his speed, until she panted, until her hands gripped her ankles, her knuckles whitening.

“Ian,” she said more loudly, more desperately.

Spasm by sweet spasm, he felt her pelvic muscles clench, tasted her sweet cream. He lapped up her orgasm, using his tongue to spread the moisture around her puckered anus.

“Ian!”

He ignored her plea, instead circling her ass with his tongue in slow circles, working his way centrically toward what he planned to take.

“Ever been tongue fucked in the ass at thirty thousand feet?”

He felt her reply more than registered what she moaned. Felt the smooth lines of her ass tighten, felt her body shift toward him, felt her acceptance of anything he did.

Licking her puckered hole, he teased, thrusting inside, preparing her for more, preparing her for him.

He wasn’t a small man, and she’d admitted during their time together before that she’d never had a man inside that particular orifice prior to him.

He’d stretched her, caught her cries with his kisses, made her ass all his. He wanted her again, wanted to come in all of her prior to their touching down on ground again. Wanted what she’d only given to him.

Still delving her ass with his tongue, he slipped a finger inside her pussy. He stroked until he found her most sensitive spot, until she gyrated against his curled finger. Over and over they moved, Monty moaning against his administrations.

“So sweet,” he whispered against her.

“I’m not sweet,” she denied. “I’ve never been sweet.”

No, in her eyes, she probably hadn’t. He’d read her profile long before he’d ever set eyes on her, knew her military upbringing, her own military stint, knew the things she’d done in the name of serving her country. Monty was right. She wasn’t sweet. Yet, here, like this, so soft against him, she was the sweetest thing he’d ever held, ever tasted.

“You taste sweet. Like feminine honey.” He gave her ass another lick, another thrust, then pushed a finger inside, feeling her tightness clamp down on him. Working his fingers, the one in her pussy, the other in her ass, Ian watched Monty topple over into another orgasm, watched as she toppled over onto the special aircraft sofa she’d sat on earlier.

He moved with her spasming body, not letting up the pressure he applied to her G-spot, to her ass, until he felt moisture run over his fingers, felt her desire dripping around him.

Feeling her body totally relax with her climax, Ian stood, shucked his pants down enough to free his cock and put on a condom. Moistening his head with her pussy, he then pushed against her anus, half-expecting her to order him to stop. This they’d never done. One of the few things they’d never done.

With her bent over the seat, he reached around her, letting his fingers stroke her clit while he inched his way inside her deepest, darkest secret spot.

“Ian,” she cried, but it was with pleasure. Her hips gyrated, taking his cock deeper into her. “Ian,” she repeated, losing patience with his gentle thrusts. Bucking against him, she took him balls deep inside her ass.

“Fuck,” he swore, wondering if he’d be able to last a whole minute with her tight hole clenched around him, milking his entire length.

“Yes, fuck me.” She worked her hips back and forth, shimmying the length of his cock.

Hell fire he wasn’t going to last thirty seconds.

“Monty,” he breathed, knowing he had to keep control to keep from ripping apart, that despite her needy movements he’d hurt her if he let loose with the wild way he wanted to pound her.

She rode his cock, back and forth, tip to balls. Sweat broke out on his brow. His fingers moved frantically against her clit. Gritting his teeth, he kept their rhythm paced as his entire cock slid into her hot ass.

God, he didn’t want to hurt her, but he was beyond slow and easy, beyond carefully measured thrusts. He needed release. This very instant.

He grabbed her hips and shoved deep, thrust with his balls slapping against her perfect ass, slapping against her damp pussy over and over as he ravaged what was his alone.

Ian arched his back and cried out as his balls exploded, turning inside out and spilling his seed inside Monty. He collapsed against her and they lay there, bodies intimately connected, fighting to catch their breath.

The plane hit a bump of turbulence and Monty shifted beneath him. “Your pants are digging into me.”

Ian pulled up, hating to feel air hit his spent cock as he left the protective comfort of her body. “Sorry,” he apologized, removing the condom and dropping it onto the table. He straightened his jeans.

She turned, watched him with her mocking eyes. “You never even undressed.” She laughed derisively and he wondered if she laughed to cover hurt.

No, she wasn’t hurt. She’d spoken his own thoughts out loud. They were about sex and nothing more. And hell if they hadn’t just had some amazing sex.

Still, he’d been rougher than he should have, had come amazingly hard.

Unable to stop himself, he bent over and kissed her mouth. Not a mocking kiss, not an it’s only sex kiss, but a thank-you-God-for-letting-me-be-the-one-you’re-with kiss.

Chapter Seven

A limo with darkened windows and a uniformed driver were waiting for Monty and Ian at Heathrow when their plane landed several hours and too many to count orgasms later.

Looking way too put together for a man who’d been hot and sweaty and beneath her not thirty minutes ago, Ian whistled. “You have to give Kincaid credit, he does everything where you’re concerned in style.”

She climbed into the limo without responding. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. This didn’t feel right. Gerard was too smart to throw her with Ian like this.

“He hired you to set me up? For you to insure I went to jail?” She rolled her eyes when he didn’t answer. “You may as well admit it. We both know it’s the truth.”

He still didn’t say anything and Monty could stand the silence no more. Opening her eyes, she glanced toward him, took in his hardened expression.

He had no idea what he’d done. She’d be on the run for the rest of her life, unable to return to the states without a major altercation to her appearance.

The car pulled up to a traffic stop. Monty reached for the handle, planning to escape with only her bag of jewels that she’d refused to have put in the trunk.

“You told me Gerard…” her voice trailed off, realizing how naïve she’d been. The man waltzed into her bedroom and she’d taken him at face value without questioning the fact that he might be lying to her. Hell, she’d known he was a liar.

Yet, she’d taken his word that Gerard had left her.

“What did you do to Gerard?”

“To your loverboy?” He shrugged. “Let’s just say, I pointed his focus in a different direction while I took off with his crown jewel.”

“I’m not his crown jewel.”

“Ah, but you are, Monty.” Ian reached out and stroked his fingers along the edge of her hair. She jerked away. “A little late for acting as if my touch disgusts you. We both know that I could have you begging for my cock in minutes.”

She couldn’t deny the power he held over her. A power she sincerely hated, but that she recognized as tugging the strings of her very fiber.