The Intelligence Unit Series

Roman knew this was impulsive. Not the act itself, of course-he'd already spent the last two nights in bed with Camila. A third would hardly count as reckless. But this wasn't just s*x. What Camila was asking for involved emotion and pure need and all the things he'd protected himself against for six long years. She didn't just want him to strip her bare and make her come. She wanted him to make her feel enough to forget the world around her, and that meant feeling everything with her in return. And despite the fact that it should feel more dangerous than any op he'd ever been on, it didn't. He'd dive into danger a thousand times-a hundred thousand, even-if it meant he could give this to her just once.

Roman's mouth met hers in a swift, greedy glide. The needful cry that came out of her in response damn near made his knees buckle for how sinful and sweet it was. But no. He had a mission, and he wasn't wavering now.

"Camila," he whispered. Capturing her face between his hands, he knotted his fingers in her hair, holding her steady so he could take his time with her mouth. He meant to start slowly, to learn her and lay claim to her at the same time. But she met every sweep of his tongue with one just as bold, kissing him harder and deeper until they were locked together and breathless. "Wait," Roman said, breaking from her mouth just long enough to send a gaze around the kitchen.

But Camila did the exact opposite, sliding her hand between his legs, one corner of her mouth kicking up as his c**k jerked against her palm. "I don't want to wait. I want to feel. I want you."

For one brief, bright second, he considered ripping off her yoga pants and f*****g her right there on the kitchen counter. He was the only person authorized to be inside the safe house unless there was a breach, and the blinds were always closed, no exceptions. Still...

Roman shook his head, taking a half step back even though his body howled in protest. "You'll get everything you want, soon enough. But we're not in an entirely private space. I'm not taking the risk, however small, of anyone catching sight of what I'm about to do to you. You're mine, Camila." He lowered his mouth over hers in a punishing kiss. "And I don't share."

Circling his fingers around her wrist, he led her through the kitchen and down the short hallway toward the bedroom. The second the door was shut and the room was encased in shadows, they crashed together in a tangle of hot, desperate kisses. He broke from Camila's mouth just long enough for her to yank his T-shirt over his head and fling it to the floor, groaning against her lips as her hands roamed over his torso. Abs, chest, shoulders, biceps-Christ, everywhere she touched, he burned for her.

Not wanting to wait another second to feel her, skin on skin, Roman lifted the hem of her T-shirt to her shoulders, pulling back abruptly when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

"F**k," he grated, his d**k jerking against the thin material of his track pants. "You're killing me, you know that?"

Her grin was barely visible in the scant light filtering through from the other side of the blinds, but it still had the power to take a potshot at his composure. "Hmmm. Then I probably shouldn't tell you I'm not wearing panties, either."

She hooked a thumb into the waistband of her yoga pants, lowering the fabric just enough to show Roman that she wasn't bluffing. His breath slammed to a halt in his lungs, his c**k now painfully hard, and before he could resist the urge, he palmed himself for a couple of fast, hard strokes, just to take the edge off.

Camila's eyes shot to his hand, glittering with desire. "Do you like watching me undress, Roman?"

His pulse ratcheted higher. "Yes."

She reached for the hem of her T-shirt, which he hadn't managed to fully take off, lifting it slowly. Roman's throat tightened at the smooth expanse of skin, then again at the tiny gold hoop threaded through her belly button. She slid the cotton over her breasts, then over her head, and Christ, he'd never seen anything so perfect in his life.

"I like watching you, too."

Realization hit him, hard and fast. Roman pumped his c**k again, only slower this time, satisfaction uncurling low in his belly when Camila's nipples grew visibly tight, her eyes following his every move.

"Take them off," he said, hearing the demand in his voice but too far gone to care. "And you can watch me do whatever you want."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

She ran her hands over her rib cage, just slowly enough that he was sure he'd f*****g die from the pleasure of watching her. Skimming her waist, she finally reached the waistband slung low over the swell of her hips. Turning to the side, she lowered the cotton inch by inch. Roman's profile view of her left a lot to his imagination, and the promise of her body coupled with his knowledge of just how gorgeous she was sent a bolt of raw heat down his spine.

Camila stepped out of the yoga pants now pooled at her feet. Turning to face him, she closed the space between them, wrapping her fingers around his.

"Camila," he said, meant as a warning but delivered as a benediction.

"Roman," she said back, her hand falling into rhythm with his for just a second before she lowered herself to her knees. His whole body tightened, his breath escaping on a grunt at the feel of her mouth so close to his c**k.

She smiled, looking up at him in the shadows, confirming Roman's belief that he was going to die of f*****g pleasure, right here in this room. "Do you remember what you said the other night? About wanting to f**k my sweet, smart mouth?" "Yes," he said, more moan than actual word.

Camila slid his pants and boxer briefs over his hips in one smooth motion. "And you said I can watch you do whatever I want, right?" "Yes."

"Good. Because I want to watch you come undone while I give you exactly what you want."

She parted her lips over his c**k before he could protest-not that he would, because Christ, her mouth was heaven and sin and everything in between-and he hissed out a curse. "Oh, God." She took him deeper, her lips pursing tighter as she reversed direction and withdrew, then repeated the motion again. "Baby, that's so f*****g good."

Roman watched as she worked his c**k, first in gentle exploration, then in faster, more deliberate glides. Every movement, every lick and s**k sent heat racing through him, but he did what she'd asked and watched them all. His hands drifted down to capture her hair, pulling it up to the crown of her head. A few curls escaped to cascade down her back, her hand joining in to follow the slide of her mouth, and oh, hell, he wasn't going to last like this. "Camila." His hips rocked in time with her motions, completely against the command from his brain to slow down. "I'm...I want..."

She hummed her own pleasure, the vibration in her throat intensifying Roman's need. "Take it. Take what you want."

He'd stepped back to pull her to her feet before he even realized he'd move, walking her backwards to the bed and caging her body with his. "I want you." He dragged his c**k over her p***y, a dark thrill bolting through him at her gasp. "I want to hear you make that sound again and again. I want to fill you up. I want to f**k you until you don't know anything but this."

Camila's nails dug into his shoulders, the sting right on the border between pleasure and pain. "I want you, too. Please." She tilted her hips up, brushing her want-slick p***y over the underside of his c**k. Her eyes squeezed shut, but he hooked two fingers under her chin to claim her attention.

"Eyes wide open, sweetheart. I want you to watch every second of me making you come."

Shifting his body to kneel in the cradle of her hips, Roman dropped a hand between their bodies, circling her c**t with his thumb. Camila watched through her lashes, her knees falling wider as he swept faster, then harder.

"Oh. Oh, that's...there," she said. But she didn't move her gaze, and as badly as Roman wanted to lose himself in everything she was making him feel, he wanted her to feel everything, too.

"Look how pretty you are," he said, focusing on the exact spot that made her moan, then sliding a finger inside the tight heat of her p***y. "F**k, I can feel how much you want it. Come for me, Camila."

He crooked his finger deep inside of her, letting her ride his hand while he continued to stroke her c**t with his thumb. Her breath grew shallow, but then she tore her eyes from her p***y to look at his face.

"I want you," she said. "All of you. Please, Roman."

He levered forward to bury his c**k inside of her in one hard thrust. Her cry made him worry for a split second that he'd hurt her. But then he felt her trembling, her inner muscles squeezing and her thighs shaking against his own, and he didn't stop. Angling himself so his c**k would stay in contact with her c**t, he held steady, f*****g her in short, deep strokes. Camila gasped again, heat and wetness flooding the space where they came together, and in that moment, nothing could keep him from giving her everything. Roman worked her through every shiver and sigh, until finally, she went lax against the bed. He kissed her softly, just a brush of his mouth on hers. But in the next breath, she grabbed his shoulders, using momentum to roll him to his back. The change in position gave him a perfect view of her, and she rocked her hips against his.

"This is us. Me and you, together," Camila said, her p***y gripping him tighter from this new angle. "I want you to watch, too."

Roman wasn't about to deny her. His hands shaped her waist just above her hips, and he watched as she began to move. She tested a few different rhythms before finding one that made him moan-f**k, she felt so good, taking his c**k so deep. She read him like a secret code, something made for just the two of them, instantly understanding what he wanted. What he craved. Camila placed a hand on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her on the opposite side to anchor her fully in place.

"So good," Roman said, watching her move over him, his c**k disappearing to the hilt with each thrust of her hips. His balls tingled, pulling up tight, but he couldn't hold back even if he wanted to.

And he didn't.

Camila began to move with purpose, her eyes locked on his as he watched her f**k him in faster, harder strokes. The pleasure that had been building low in his body expanded, hitting his spine and moving up. Roman let go, then, giving himself over to every sensation-the heat of Camila's body as she gave and took all at once, the primal slap of their bodies coming together. But it was the sight of her, so wild and passionate and perfect, that sent him over the edge. Roman's o****m slammed up from deep inside his body, the pleasure so intense that for a second, he couldn't breathe. Camila broke into a grin-Christ, he came even harder-only lessening her movements when she'd wrung every last shudder and moan from him.

And when Roman finally found his breath, pulling Camila close in the shadows, the only word he could say was her name.