Maya Banks - Forged in Steele

He found her mouth again and kissed her roughly, not as gently as before. His breath was ragged and each breath blew hotly into her mouth.

He let out one last groan and then went still inside her. His hips were pressed solidly to hers, arms wrapped around her, holding her against him. He lowered his forehead to rest on hers and nibbled delicately at the corner of her mouth before peppering kisses over the bow of her lips.

“Fantasy had nothing on the real thing,” he said in a lazy drawl.

He sounded like a completely satisfied male. His eyes gleamed in triumph. Then he grimaced and regret shadowed those formerly satisfied eyes.

“Need to get rid of the condom,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

As if she were going anywhere.

She lay sprawled on the bed, her entire body humming in satisfaction. She was deliciously drowsy but she didn’t want to fall asleep because then her night would be over. They still had a few hours yet and she wanted to make the most of them.

She watched as Steele rose from the bed, enjoying the view of such a perfect male specimen in the nude. His muscles rippled as he turned to dispose of the condom. He was still hard, even after his release. And so beautiful he made her teeth ache.

When he turned farther, she caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his left shoulder. She hadn’t noticed it before. She’d been too focused on everything else. Now, curious, she leaned forward, straining to see in the dim light.

He turned back after tossing the condom and cocked his head to the side.

“What’s up?”

“Your tattoo,” she said in a low voice. “I was looking at it. Didn’t know you had one.”

He paused but then nodded. “Yeah.”

When he didn’t say anything further, she sat up, trying to get a better look.

“Can I see?”

He sat on the edge of the bed and then turned so she’d get a better view.

She stared in earnest, absorbing the intricate pattern. A dove with wings outstretched as if landing, talons extended and curled around a blazing arrow. Clutched in the beak was a long-stemmed rose, and a single teardrop was falling from the eye of the dove.

Below the blazing arrow were two words. Never forget.

She reached her finger out to trace the edges of the design. There was something remarkably sad and tragic about the tattoo. A knot formed in her throat and she glanced up to check his reaction.

“What does it mean?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed on a distant focal point in the room.

“Just something I don’t want to ever forget,” he said quietly.

Sensing the subject was a sore one and also closed, she let it go. Instead she knelt up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pressed her cheek to the top of his head and held him tightly.

He reached for one of her hands and pulled it to his mouth, kissing the inside of her palm.

“Like being here with you,” he rumbled. “It’s nice. The quiet. You wrapped around me. Me being able to touch and smell you. Never thought it would happen.”

“All you had to do was ask,” she said against his head.

His body shook with silent laughter. “I was convinced if you had any clue how lascivious my thoughts were that you’d have my balls. And since you’re usually in a position of power patching up our wounds, I really didn’t want to piss you off.”

She smiled. “So tell me, Mr. Badass, we’ve got a few hours until you pull out. What are we going to do with them?”

He swiveled in her hold, wrapping his arms around her as he dragged her onto his lap. He molded his mouth to hers and thrust his tongue past her lips, delving deep.

“I promised you multiple orgasms,” he said against her mouth.

“Mmmm, so you did.”

“I’m a man of my word. I never go back on my word.”

“I can see that.”

“Then know you’re going to have many more orgasms.”

“God, I hope so.”

He chuckled and kissed her again. “I like your enthusiasm.”

“Know what I want?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

She leaned in until her lips brushed over his ear. “I want to taste you. You may have fantasized about how I taste, but I’ve had just as many fantasies about having your cock in my mouth and making you wild for me.”

His entire body went rigid. He stiffened, his grip on her almost painful.

“I didn’t think I could get any harder,” he muttered. “Jesus, Maren. If you had any idea how long I’ve wanted my dick in your mouth.”

She grinned. “Does that mean I get to fulfill my fantasy?”

“Oh hell yeah,” he breathed. “I’m all yours. Do with me whatever you want.”

MAREN was awake the moment Steele slid from the bed. One minute she was snuggled deeply into his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, and the next she was wide awake as he slipped away.

Her heart was heavy with regret. She so wanted to hold on to this moment forever. She didn’t want it to end. She’d savored every single minute with him, but now he was preparing to leave, and things would go back to the way they’d been before.

She would barely exist in his world. She would return to being ignored. No words and definitely none of those earth-shattering smiles she’d enjoyed for the past several hours.

“Steele?” she whispered.

She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t say a word when it was time for him to go. She’d sworn she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. Wouldn’t humiliate herself or make herself vulnerable. That hadn’t lasted long at all.

He turned just as he finished pulling his pants on. He walked to the edge of the bed and sat sideways, pulling up one leg so he faced her.

“You heading out?” she asked in a low voice.

Regret flashed in his eyes. Maybe he was as reluctant as she was to end their time together. She would keep that thought, even if it made her delusional.

“Yeah,” he said just as quietly. “Time to meet the team and get the girl home.”

“Be careful,” she said lightly.

“Always.”

To her shock, he leaned forward and kissed her long and leisurely. It was a slow, sensual kiss. Nothing like the heated, breathless kisses of the hours before. It was a sweet kiss, a gesture that showed tenderness and regard.

Her heart seized and a knot formed in her throat.

Damn it, she was not going to make an idiot of herself by getting all emotional. They’d had one night of sex, for God’s sake. It wasn’t like he’d put a ring on her finger and proposed. Or like he’d professed his undying love for her.

He’d been very clear that he was having sex with her to get her out of his system. It didn’t get less romantic than that.

“Take care of yourself, Maren,” he said.

“Always,” she said, echoing his cocky response.

He touched her cheek and then rose as she pulled the sheets higher up her body. He looked down at her a long moment and then his lips firmed, almost as if he were resolving to leave. Then he turned and strode out of her bedroom. In the distance she heard her door open and close and then silence descended until she could hear every creak, every little noise outside her windows.

She closed her eyes and rolled into the space Steele had occupied. It was still warm from his body heat. It still smelled of him. She buried her face in the pillow where he’d rested his head and inhaled deeply.

It had been the best and worst night of her life.

The best in that she’d never had sex with a man who equaled Steele. She never would.

The worst in that it only clearly outlined everything she’d never have.

Sometimes it was better not to ever live the fantasy. Because when reality descended, it outlined in stark detail just how much the real world sucked. The whole adage about how it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

Complete BS.

In this regard, it was likely far better to have never had scorching-the-sheets sex with Steele than to have had it, tasted it and know she’d never have it again.

She closed her eyes, knowing she really needed to get up, shower and head to the clinic. The locals would be stirring and waiting for her to open. She faced another day just like all the other days. Illness, broken bones, minor injuries, checkups and cuts and wounds to stitch.

Another day in paradise.

The problem with that was that she’d spent the night in paradise. Now she faced the drudgery of her normal life. And now that she’d had a taste of utter perfection, the reality waiting for her was depressing as hell.

THE KGI teams, all three of them, gathered in the war room of the Kelly compound for the post-mission report. Now that Christina Westlake had been delivered safely to her family and his own team had gotten the care they needed, Sam had called a meeting to get the rundown on the clusterfuck that was the extrication of Christina Westlake from the hands of Matteo Garza. Ten days had passed, but the mission still occupied Steele’s thoughts, and not because it hadn’t gone exactly as planned. It had everything to do with Maren and the unforgettable night they’d spent together.

Using that night to get her out of his system? Hell, she was further under his skin than ever. He couldn’t sleep, because she was there as soon as he closed his eyes. Her scent, the way she’d felt against him. The way it had felt when he’d slid into the tight clasp of her body.

He shook off thoughts of her—she was more of a distraction than ever—and took in the other occupants of the room. He surveyed the newest team with a keen eye. He had a lot invested in them. He’d been responsible for the majority of their training while his team had been on “administrative leave” for several months.