Melting Ice(7)
Slamming the door, Ice engaged the lock and turned to find Syn dragging the soft ivory dress over her head and tossing it aside.
“So beautiful!”
Thick waves of mahogany hair spilled over slender shoulders, ripe dusky pink nipples peeking out from between the silky strands. She hooked her thumbs in a tiny pair of ivory lace panties. With a shimmy of her hips, the material floated down her legs and fell to the hardwood floor.
His cock sprang back to life. Only Syn had the power to short-circuit his control. For fuck’s sake, he was a SEAL, his body a finely honed and conditioned weapon that didn’t even sweat without his permission. But when it came to this one woman, his body didn’t respond to his commands. She held the reins.
“It’s been too long, babe.”
She nodded, which caused her hair to sway, granting him tantalizing glimpses of those incredible beasts he all too often daydreamed about.
“Need you,” she purred. “Now. Right now.”
He couldn’t agree more yet he didn’t move. For endless moments, he could only stare at her, drinking her in, quenching a fathomless thirst he hadn’t known dwelled inside him.
Mine.
The word rolled around in his head and took root. She was his, and this was where he belonged. She understood, shared the same affliction, and wasn’t happy about her need for him. He could see it in the taut line of her shoulders and rigidity of her spine. She lifted her chin fractionally higher as if daring him. Another man might have been intimidated by the challenge she presented. But he wasn’t most men and Syn was his.
Primitive urges sprang to life demanding he take action, grab Syn, drag her to his bed, and prove his claim. Never let go.
Syn stood next to the bed naked, ready and waiting, staring at Ice. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even twitch. “Ice?” What the hell was he doing?
His cool blue eyes had softened, and she glimpsed vulnerability in the deep pools. She’d seen it before, a brief flash of emotion quickly subdued. The stronger the emotion the more rigid control he exerted upon himself. Ice did not let go. Period.
She faced the rough-hewn soldier. A cold-blooded predator who could take down whatever target he was assigned without blinking an eye. A man without a single weakness, hell bent on establishing his superiority.
That really shouldn’t turn her on.
Her legs trembled, and she locked her knees to remain upright. The man before her was a prime male, strong and sensual, confident in his ability to master any test, including her. When Ice went all primal SEAL like this, it flipped a switch in her. Here was an uninhibited conqueror, every delicious hard-muscled inch of him. Someone worthy of her. A man to hold onto. To fight for.
She didn’t want to quietly accept coming in second anymore, but how could she possibly win out against his team and the Navy?
He maintained that irritating edge of cold detachment. The implacable restraint fed her fantasies, chaining her to him in ways she wasn’t sure she’d ever escape. It was why she came running whenever he called. And it was why she’d fallen so hard. Such tight, indomitable constraint made her want to get inside him, under his skin, and push him to lose all that disciplined control.
She’d come close to succeeding once a year ago, which only fueled her desire because Ice unrestrained and wild was an irresistible force of nature. She thrived on his tender loving but craved his raw sexual abandon.
He was her every fantasy come to life. Silky, jet-black hair that had gotten a bit shaggy, softening his rough-hewn features and intense blue eyes. And that rockin’ body, all sculpted sinew without an ounce of fat. No matter the situation—fighting, playing, or making love—he knew exactly how to use that hot amazing bod to its best advantage.
A tendril of unease skated along her spine as he advanced on her. She took an involuntary step back. The action had the same effect as running from an enraged bull. Ice surged forward, grabbed her around the waist, and took her down. They landed heavily on the bed, his bulk pinning her beneath him.
Syn lifted her chin, arched her brow, and stared straight into his eyes, throwing down the gauntlet. Tempting the devil.
He didn’t just pick it up, he demolished it with a kiss intended not to seduce but to capture her soul. Dominant, demanding, powerful. And it was working. His fingers tangled in her hair, slanting her head, taking command. Taking her. His lips claimed hers, his tongue thrusting and withdrawing, a preview of the sex to come, and her pussy grew desperately wet in anticipation, preparing to receive him. His lips devoured her essence, obliterated reason and resistance. Not that she resisted when it was what she wanted. Needed. To be taken over, consumed until she became an integral part of him. One he couldn’t easily walk away from.