She took the strip of condoms from his hand and ripped one from the end, then split open the package. She stroked him with her hand, bringing him back to fully hard, then rolled it down his shaft, causing ripples of pleasure and making him even harder still.

She scooted down on the bed and spread her legs. He settled between her thighs, his hard, wrapped cock teasing her clit. He played for a moment, then slid down and in, taking her with one hard, smooth thrust.

She was tight and hot, and the feel of her practically made him dizzy as pleasure rocked him. He thrust slow and deep, staring into her eyes until they fluttered closed. He dipped his head down and kissed her then, keeping his weight on his elbows as his cock and tongue thrust into her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, and it wasn’t long before she groaned and made sounds that let him know she could come again if he didn’t blow it.

His pleasure built, but he needed her to come first. He checked his speed, but she gripped his ass and urged him faster. He returned to the breakneck pace that put him on edge, then thrust even harder.

They came together, her shrieking, him groaning as he pumped into her and wave after wave of pleasure blocked everything else from his mind.

Spent, he collapsed, but then rolled to take his weight off her. She lay on his chest, panting, satiated and perfect. He ran his fingers through her hair, which was damp again, but now with sweat. “We both might need another shower.”

She gave him a lazy smile. “I like the smell of you on my skin.”

He kissed her neck. “I like the smell of me on your skin too. It’s primal. Like I’ve marked you as mine.”

“That makes you mine too. I think I’d like that.”

His heart rate, just settling after a powerful orgasm, now beat heavy, a hard thrum in his chest. “This isn’t a fling, Kira. When we get back to the States, I want you to meet my sister and her family. Do all the things couples do.”

Her lips traced a trail on his upper chest as her fingers drew circles. She didn’t meet his gaze. “How many times have you brought women to meet your sister?”

“None since my niece was born.”

“How old is she?”

“Three and a half. I never wanted to confuse her or send the wrong message to anyone I was dating. I’ve gone out with more than a few women who liked the idea of me being a SEAL more than they liked me. But it takes a few dates to figure that out, and I wasn’t about to bring my niece’s affections into play.”

“I’d like to meet her. And your sister. Is she married?”

“Yeah. Her husband is a great guy. You’ll like him too.”

She still wouldn’t meet his gaze, and he wondered what was wrong. He’d wanted to be clear about what this—she—meant to him, but maybe he needed to pull back. He touched her hair. “If you want to take it slow, we can do that. I know you’ve had a rough year, and family is…touchy.”

At last, she looked at him. Her hazel eyes were clear and beautiful. “I’m just scared. What if she hates me? Your sister, I mean. And your niece…I’ve never been around kids much. I was an only child of only children. I’m not great with meeting new people.”

He smiled, relief spreading through him. “Just be you. Because you are fucking amazing.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Kira’s dreams were intense and confusing, with no linear thread, just impressions of danger and fear. Rand. Andre. Reuben. Her mother and father. Even Freya and Apollo made cameos. But no one was who they appeared to be and nothing made sense in the way that was only acceptable in dreams.

Sometime in the wee hours before dawn, she surfaced from the dreamscape and felt Rand’s nude body by her side. Sleeping next to him was so much better than a baseball bat.

Deeply asleep, his breathing set a slow and even rhythm that made her believe in comfort and joy. Their lovemaking had been more than she’d imagined it could be, with him giving everything and asking for nothing but her pleasure.

That he wanted more than here and now was something she’d never quite believed in. He was a leprechaun teasing her with tempting treasure.

Lieutenant Commander Randall Fallon had found and stolen the key to her joy. It wasn’t sex—although that was rather spectacular—and it wasn’t anything so simple as friendship.

She was terrified to put the label that felt most appropriate on it, because it was so soon and the path so twisted. But even without labels, she knew this wasn’t small or fleeting or even just physical. Her longing for him—even as they slept side by side—was an ache that couldn’t be easily satisfied.

She was head over heels for this man, probably had been since the day they met, and now she had a way to show him the things she wouldn’t say. She kissed his smooth, hot skin as her hand slid down his perfect stomach.

The man’s body was a masterpiece—and the one thing she knew was art. He put Renaissance sculptors to shame with his perfection of musculature. Her hand found his hard cock, and his intake of breath told her he was awake.

Now the game was interesting. Should they both feign sleep and come together in dark, erotic silence, or would they dare acknowledge the sleepy arousal that brought them together?

Kira liked the sensual power of making him lose control of his sculpted body, and slowly, she slid down beneath the blankets until her mouth found his cock.

They both made soft, muted sounds of pleasure as she brought him to orgasm with lips, tongue, and strokes of her hand. He let out a drawn-out groan as he pulsed into her and she swallowed. His fingers threaded through her hair, scraping her scalp in a way that sent pleasurable tingles along her nerves.

Slowly, she inched her way up his body, kissing every part of him in the path to his mouth. His tongue met hers, and the kiss was as intense as every other exchange, but there were no words. Just feeling.

His hand slid between her thighs, and she broke her silence with a moan. Her sex was hot and ready, and he’d learned just how to play her, plucking at her nerves like a maestro. His touch was steady and slow, building the pressure ever higher. She came, a hot, undulating wave. Just as her orgasm began to recede, he rolled on a condom and was inside her again, continuing her orgasm in one endless stream of pleasure.

Afterward, she curled up beside him, her entire body tingling with the power of what might be the longest orgasm of her life. He kissed her neck, her chin, her collarbone, and finally spoke the only words that made sense. “Holy fuck.”

She ran a finger along the grooves between his abs, tracing each muscle, and said, “It’s been a while for me, but I think this might not be exactly normal.”

He laughed and pushed her to her back, his mouth exploring her neck with kisses and licks that were more carnal than sweet.

“Not normal. Extraordinary.”

“Are you sure this isn’t a dream? Because I know I was asleep a few minutes ago.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, causing a tightening at her core. Then he gently bit, and she felt a sharp but not painful sting as his mouth switched to sucking.

“Okay. Not a dream, then.”

“I’m not sure. You woke me. Maybe I’m the one who’s dreaming.” He slid from her side, pulling off the condom as he did so. He was in and out of the bed in a flash.

“I guess if we find a second condom in the trash in the morning, we’ll both know for sure.”

He laughed. “I don’t want this to be a dream. If it’s a dream, I’ll wake up in my house in Virginia Beach, all alone and longing for you. I don’t want another day of that. I’ve had too many already.”

She settled in beside him again, loving the feel of his hand as he pulled her tight to his side. “Me too. Please let this be real.”

He kissed her nose, her neck, her cheeks, her lips. “It’s real, Kira. And this is just the beginning.”

A loud noise pulled Kira from a deep sleep. She reached across the small bed for Rand and found the space empty, the sheets cold. She pried her eyes open. The morning light gave little hint as to time of day—she hadn’t been in Malta long enough to know the nuances of sunrise—but she thought it was early.

Too early for whatever was making that horrible racket. It was an alarm of some sort. Smoke? She shook her head, willing herself to make sense of the sound that threatened to split her head open.