Out of Control
“Next time I intend to spend hours pleasuring you.”
A sly smile curved her lips. “Or maybe I’ll pleasure you.”
“Oh, shit.”
His control snapped.
Just like that.
Reclaiming her lips, Niko’s hands shifted to her lower back and with a forward thrust of his hips he was entering her in one sure stroke.
She gasped, but not from fear.
Exquisite pleasure blazed through her and she pressed her face into the curve of his neck. She’d never done anything but the traditional missionary position. Now she realized that the current arrangement allowed her to feel every slow stroke into her before he was retreating and returning with a slow, insistent thrust.
“Niko,” she breathed, feeling overwhelmed.
It was more than the extraordinary bliss of feeling him moving deep inside her. It was the sense of intimate connection with this man that went beyond the physical.
“I knew it would be perfect,” he whispered as he continued his measured pace. “I knew you would be perfect.”
“I never realized.”
“Never realized what, my sweet angel?”
“That this could be so—”
“So?”
“Life altering,” she breathed, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his.
His low laugh echoed through the air with an unmistakable satisfaction.
“You belong to me now,” he vowed.
Belonged?
If she’d been in her right mind, she might have protested the possessive comment.
But instead she arched her back as her body began to tighten with a shimmering anticipation. His steady, unrelenting pace was stoking an inferno deep within her that threatened to combust.
“Angel,” he breathed, giving her leg a tug higher as he angled his hips upward.
His slight shift was enough to press him even deeper within her and with a shocking force the tension that coiled between her legs abruptly shattered into a thousand pieces.
She cried out and wrapped her arms around his neck as he gave two more deep thrusts before he was reaching his own climax.
She held on tightly as they both struggled to recover from the explosion of sensations, their ragged breaths the only sound to stir the air.
Chapter Seven
Niko ran a shaky hand down the damp skin of Angela’s back, his face buried in her apple-scented hair.
Man, he ached to press her even closer to his trembling body. To hold her so tightly she would never be able to escape. But even now he feared he might accidentally crush her.
She was so fragile. So vulnerable.
The knowledge frightened him on a primal level that threatened to make him do something extremely stupid.
Like lock her in his rooms at Valhalla and never let her out.
Something that this fiercely independent woman would most certainly protest.
“You’re quiet,” he at last murmured, lifting his head to study her with a searching gaze. She’d never looked more beautiful with her hair tangled around her flushed face and her lips still swollen from his kisses. But he was a Sentinel. He didn’t miss the hint of unease behind her air of sleepy satisfaction. “Are you having regrets?”
“No.”
She used her finger to draw an aimless pattern over his chest, seemingly unaware that the light caress was enough to kick his libido into overdrive. Of course, just being close to this female was enough to send his libido into overdrive. Or catching her scent. Or seeing her across the room . . .
He swallowed a groan, grimly leashing his insistent desire.
This wasn’t a fleeting afternoon of delight.
This was the start of eternity.
Together.
He needed to know what was going on in that clever, always unpredictable brain of hers.
“What is it, angel?”
A brief hesitation. “I was just thinking that we don’t really know much about each other.”
His hand skimmed beneath the warm silk of her hair, massaging the tense muscles of her nape.
“I know that you’re beautiful, frighteningly intelligent, and that you dislike being the center of attention,” he promptly informed her. They were beyond him pretending he hadn’t spent the past six weeks spying on her like some creepy stalker. “I also know that you rarely allow people close to you, but you’re fiercely loyal to the few friends that you trust. And that you’re lonely and you’ve never felt like you belong.”
She stiffened, clearly disturbed by the realization of just how much she’d unconsciously revealed.
“You can’t know that,” she breathed.
“I can because I felt the same.”
Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You?”
“Sentinels aren’t always recognized until they hit puberty,” he explained, revealing the sort of information only shared among high-bloods. She would soon be a part of his world. Whether she liked it or not. “When I was a child I went to public school, but even at a very young age I knew that there was something different about me. I could run faster, jump higher, see better, and hear things no one else could.”
She frowned. “And that was a bad thing?”
His jaw clenched at the memory of the hateful taunts and brutal ambushes that had dogged his early years.
“Boys can be extremely competitive and no one wants to play with the kid who always wins.”
Her expression softened with sympathy. “Ah.”
“And that was before my super strength kicked in.”
Her fingers spread across his chest. “What happened?”
“I nearly killed a neighborhood boy when he threw a rock and hit me in the head.” He grimaced. The memory of the boy lying on the ground with his face beaten bloody was one that had haunted him for years. “That’s when my mom called Valhalla.”
“Did they come and take you away?”
“Yes.”
Her hand lifted to cup his face, her heart far too tender for her own good.
“Were you unhappy?”
“At first,” he admitted. “My mother came to visit when she could, but I’d become too wary to make friends.” His lips twisted. He’d been a surly, arrogant kid with a chip on his shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore. In no way did he want to admit he was one of the mutants. “Especially when they were all freaks.”
Her thumb absently stroked his lower lip, sending a blast of heat through him.
Oh . . . yeah.
He was definitely locking her in his rooms. Their rooms. At least for the next month or so.
“What happened?”
“Wolfe, a boy a few years older than me, walked up and punched me so hard he broke my jaw.”
“That’s terrible,” she growled in outrage. “What did you do?”
His lips parted into a wide smile. “Exactly what you’d expect me to do. I picked myself off the floor and did my best to kill the son of a bitch.”
Her frown deepened. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because I discovered that I’d finally encountered someone who could not only match me in strength, but could kick my ass.”
“I don’t understand.”
Of course she didn’t.
Only two males could appreciate the nuanced diplomacy of a knock-down-drag-out fight.
“For the first time ever I didn’t have to hold back. I didn’t have to pretend I was ‘less’ than what I was.” He deliberately caught and held her gaze. “I found the place where I belonged.”
“And Wolfe?”
“He’s the current leader of the Sentinels and my closest friend.”
She lightly ran her fingers up and down the line of his jaw, seemingly fascinated by the feel of his five o’clock shadow.
“You never mentioned your father.”
He lifted his hand to press her palm against his cheek. “He died when I was just a baby.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“What about your parents?”
br />
Her lashes instantly lowered to hide her eyes.
“I was the product of a one-night stand,” she said, her voice stripped of emotion. “I never knew my father, not even his name. I doubt he ever knew I existed.”
He swallowed a sigh as he felt the barriers rising between them.
One bout of sex, no matter how life-altering, wasn’t going to be enough to convince her to lower the barriers surrounding her heart.
“And your mother?” he asked.
“She died a year ago.”
He pulled her hand to his lips, planting a kiss in the middle of her palm.
“That must have been tough.”
She trembled in response to his caress, but her eyes remained stubbornly hidden behind her lashes. She’d share her body, but not her wounds.
“Yes, but we weren’t close.” She struggled to swallow, as if she had a lump in her throat. “She never understood my lack of social skills and she was disappointed that I spent more time in the library than with the other kids.”
“Disappointed in you?” He didn’t have to pretend his angry astonishment. “Impossible.”
“She didn’t want a valedictorian, she wanted a prom queen.” A humorless smile curved her lips. “Or at the very least a cheerleader.”
He swore beneath his breath, wishing her mother was still alive so he could teach her just how special her daughter truly was.
And more importantly, what he did to people who would dare to hurt this female.
“Her loss,” he rasped.
“I suppose.”
He hesitated, wondering if there’d been more to her mother’s disapproval than a shallow desire for glitz rather than gold.
“Did she ever sense you were special?”
She tugged her hand from his grasp, pressing it against his chest in instant denial.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Angel—”
“No,” she muttered. “I won’t discuss it.”
“Denying your powers won’t make them go away.”
She gave another shove against his chest. “I’m hungry.”
He swallowed a sigh. At some point he was going to have to make her accept the truth of who and what she was.
But not now.
Now he had her naked in his bed, and there were far more pleasurable ways to spend the next few hours.
“Me too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead, his hand trailing up the curve of her waist to halt just below her breast.
Her breath caught and she instinctively arched toward his hardening cock.
“Niko?”
“I swear I’ll feed you,” he promised, nipping the lobe of her ear as he rolled her flat on her back and covered her with the hard weight of his body. “Anything you want.” His hand closed over her breast, his heart coming to a complete halt as he gazed down at her wide, velvet eyes. His. His woman. “Later.”
Her hands lifted to wrap around his neck, her eyes smoldering with a matching desire.
“Much later.”
It was, in fact, much, much later when Niko at last headed for the shower and Angela made her way down to the kitchen wearing nothing more than an oversized T-shirt.
She’d discovered once she opened her bag that it was never wise to try and pack when in a blind panic. Her hasty lack of attention had made certain she had a plethora of things she didn’t need—like mismatched socks and dirty towels—and very little that she did need.
Typical.
Her luck had never been good. And lately it’d been downright crappy.
Well, except for Niko, she admitted, a precious warmth settled in the center of her heart. He was, hands down, the finest thing that had ever happened to her.
Still, it would have been nice to have her own nightshirt and a toothbrush.
Tossing a handful of dried cranberries into the large salad she’d chopped in a bowl, she was debating whether or not to make a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches when a male voice whispered directly in her ear.
“Ah, so this is where Little Red Riding Hood hides from the big bad wolf.”
Nearly leaping out of her skin, Angela whirled around to discover a stranger standing far too close for comfort.
A part of her recognized the intruder was mouthwateringly handsome with pale brown hair that was highlighted with strands of honey and eyes that were a rich gold. But a larger part was far more concerned with the lean, muscular body casually dressed in jeans and a black tee that moved with the same fluid grace as Niko.
This was no harmless trespasser.
“Shit.” She pressed a hand to her thumping heart. “Who are you?”
“I’m Arel. A friend of Niko’s.” The golden gaze skimmed down her slender body. Not so much ogling her barely covered limbs, but searching for potential defects. “He asked me to meet him here.”
Yeah. Like she was going to take his word for it.
People who were invited knocked on the front door and waited to be let in. They didn’t creep into the kitchen and terrify half-dressed scientists.
Covertly backing toward the counter behind her, Angela sought to distract the intruder.
“How did you get in?”
“Serra gave me the security codes during our short, but highly memorable affair last year.” A smile of pure male appreciation curved his lips. “Mmm. I love psychics.”
“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose as she put her hand behind her to search for the knob of the drawer. “TMI.”
He folded his arms over his chest, watching her with an amused gaze.
“The knife drawer is on the other side of the sink,” he informed her. “Of course, I seem to remember there was a rather lethal rolling pin just behind you.”
Busted.
With a sigh, Angela gave up her furtive attempt to find a weapon and instead settled for a frustrated glare.
“I suppose you’re another Sentinel?”
“I am.”
“You people should really learn it’s not nice to sneak up on others.”
He shrugged. “Old habits die hard and I have to admit I wanted a chance to check you out before we were formally introduced.”
Check her out?
That sounded . . . borderline psychotic.
“Do I need to get a restraining order?”
He chuckled at her obvious unease. “You can’t blame my fascination,” he said.
“I can’t?”
“I’ve known Niko for a very long time and never in all those years has he allowed anything or anyone to interfere with the hunt.” His gaze skimmed back to her bare legs. “Not even a woman.”
She flinched. Okay, maybe he did know Niko. At least enough to realize that Niko would do anything to catch his prey.
Still, that didn’t mean he was there as a friend.
“Don’t worry, Niko’s record remains intact,” she assured him wryly. “I was the bait, not the interference.”
The intruder arched a startled brow. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m here because he called Wolfe to say he was handing off his hunt for Dylan,” he said, a mysterious smile curving his lips. “He wanted me to take his place.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
“I’ve learned that assumptions can be dangerous things,” she countered.
“Ah. Fair enough.” He studied her with a steady gaze. “He asked me to take over the hunt because he wanted to concentrate on protecting you.”
Niko had hinted that he intended to put aside his need for revenge and concentrate on her, but she hadn’t truly thought he would allow someone else to take command of the hunt.
“Oh.”
“That’s it?” the man challenged. “Oh.”
She blinked. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
He appeared unimpressed with her reaction. “Did he tell you about the Sentinels that Dylan murdered?”
She
licked her dry lips. He was clearly searching for a response from her, but as always she was oblivious to the nuances of his meaning.
“He said they were friends.”
“A hell of a lot more than friends,” Arel growled. “He practically raised Fiona. She was like a daughter to him.”
Angela’s heart twisted in sympathy. She was beginning to understand Niko. It wouldn’t be enough that he would mourn the loss of his friends. Especially one he’d felt responsible for.
He would blame himself for their deaths.
“What do you want from me?” she demanded in thick tones.
“I want you to understand just what Niko is sacrificing to stay with you.”
“That’s enough, Arel,” Niko warned, leaning against the doorjamb wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans and a dangerous scowl.
Chapter Eight
Niko folded his arms over his bare chest, his eyes narrowed.
If he had been in a rational frame of mind, he might have appreciated Arel’s loyal attempt to protect him. It was, after all, what friends did. But there was nothing rational in his feelings for Angela, and he wasn’t about to allow anyone to threaten her.
No matter how well intentioned.
Easily sensing the tension, Angela cleared her throat then began edging toward the doorway. She didn’t need her genius-level intelligence to realize that it was time for a strategic retreat.
“I think I’ll go take a shower,” she muttered, giving a tiny gasp when he grabbed her by the waist and claimed a possessive kiss before allowing her to scurry away, his gaze never leaving Arel.
With a roll of his eyes, the young Sentinel lifted his hands in defeat.
“You’ve made your point.”
The words were casual, but Niko was well aware that having accepted Niko’s commitment to Angela, Arel would fight to the death to protect her.
It was the way of Sentinels.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, moving to lean against the countertop.
Sentinels burned calories at an accelerated rate, which meant they were always hungry.
“Yeah, I hit a drive-thru before leaving Columbia.” Arel’s expression hardened. “Tell me about your meeting with Dylan.”
Niko grimaced. “She’s not going to be convinced to turn herself over to the Mave.”