Under Threat by B.J. Daniels (reading the story of the .TXT) 📕

where she was obtaining the condoms from. When she turned back to him, she cocked her head.

“Where are the blankets?”

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Then I guess turnabout is fair play. Please bend over and retrieve the blankets,” she said with a regal lift of her hand.

He chuckled, but he did exactly as she asked. She made a considering sound, and he didn’t waste any time retrieving the blankets. Both pieces of fabric were lightweight backpacking blankets that wouldn’t do much to protect Natalie from the harsh, hard ground, but it would keep them from rolling around in rocks and dirt.

Rolling around in rocks and dirt. While armed and dangerous criminals were probably after them. “Are you sure—”

“I simply won’t take no for an answer, Vaughn,” she said primly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

He promised himself he wouldn’t. He would make sure they both enjoyed this. That they would get everything they needed out of it, and when they had to face whatever they had to face tomorrow morning, they would do it together. Both having had this moment. This coming together.

He crossed to her and took her mouth. No preamble, losing some of the gentleness that had held him back earlier. He wanted. She wanted. It was time to take—and give.

She moaned against him, arching in the way that drove him crazy. He slid his fingers into her underwear, finding the soft, wet heat of her. Stroking and exploring until she wasn’t just shaking in his arms, but shuddering. Panting. Desperate.

And he was desperate too.

“The ground is rough. So I’m going to lay on my back, and you’re going to get on top.”

“You just lay out orders everywhere you go, don’t you?”

But she didn’t protest when he lay down and pushed his boxers off his legs. Not a complaint, just a steady gaze at the hardest part of him illuminated only by the flashlight he’d rested on the ground. “I believe that means it’s your turn to take off your underwear.”

She grinned at him and shimmied out of her underwear. She knelt next to him and handed him the condom. He opened the packet and rolled it on himself, watching her as she watched him. She licked her lips and he groaned aloud.

“How on earth are we going to do this?” she asked, and though it seemed like she attempted to make eye contact, her gaze never made it very far.

“Just figure out however you feel comfortable.”

She straddled him, that intimate place of hers not making contact with his body. She trailed her fingers down his chest and his abdomen. He could only barely make out the tight points of her dark nipples, only barely make out the seductive shape of her body.

But she was here, straddling him, those smooth legs brushing up against his sides, her scent, her warmth permeating the very air.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable?” she asked before chewing on her bottom lip in that sexy and distracting way she did whenever she was worried.

“Baby, all I feel is you.” Which was true. When it was all said and done, he might notice the way the rocks dug into him, but for right now, all he could see, feel, think, want was her.

She leaned over him, her breasts brushing his chest, her lips brushing his mouth. “Then take me,” she murmured.

It was his turn to take the order, and he did, sliding home on a moan, moving deep and steady, paying attention to the way her breath caught and exhaled. The pleasure and excitement coiled so deep and so hard, he wasn’t sure he’d ever survive.

His hands dug into the softness of her hips, but he let her set the pace. Slow and tentative at first, and then she moved faster, everything about her softness, her breathy moans, her driving him closer and closer to that reckless edge.

She was beautiful, moving against him, sighing, gasping as she chased that rhythm that would lead to her release. It bloomed in him, big and hard, something more than where their bodies met.

She said his name, pulsed around him. He thought he could make out the way the flush in her cheeks had spread across her chest as she sighed out her release.

But it wasn’t enough. He pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling her legs around him. Her gaze met his, glazed with pleasure.

“Again,” he ordered.

And when she opened her mouth to protest, he covered it with his own.

Again. The harsh, demanding way Vaughn had said those words echoed in her head. Again? She’d just lost herself over some edge she’d never known, how could she possibly do it again?

But he was kissing her, using that harsh, steady, hot grip on her hips to pull her forward. She arched against it, against him. She loved the way her breasts scraped across his chest. She loved the way his hands were commanding and sure. She loved this. Being with him. Being filled by him. Being driven to some sort of climax that was bigger than she’d ever known.

She was starting to think it might be a dream.

But Vaughn kept moving, urging her to take more of him, and then less, over and over again in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. The blooming edge of pleasure began to build again. The heat that should’ve been unbearable, but she couldn’t stand to lose. A fire in her veins that she didn’t want to be cooled.

He broke the kiss and his mouth streaked everywhere. Her cheeks, her neck, her chest. He was everywhere, driving her into a faster and faster pace. She could feel his desperation grow, the closeness of his own release, just thinking about that, of being with him, finding that pleasure together, it pushed her over that last humbling, bright edge.

Vaughn held her there, deep and strong, his harsh groan echoing in the expanse of the cave.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there wrapped up in each other, holding on for dear life.