Way of the Shadows (Shadow Agents 8)

My control is shredding.

“I want in you,” he told her, and he didn’t see how he could be more blunt. “So you need to pull away. You’re weak, you need to rest and—”

Her head lifted. The fire had dried her damp hair. He could see the shine of her eyes. “I want you in me,” she said softly.

And he was lost.

His hands slid around her body, found the center of her need. He caressed her. Felt that last thread of his control give way—

Thomas thrust into her—drove into her until he was hilt deep. She might have been cold before, but right then, she was blazing hot. Her sex clamped tightly around him, and Thomas was pretty sure he was about to lose his mind.

Noelle pushed up, bracing her hands against the floor. Her breasts were so close, he had to lean up and take one into his mouth.

Then she started moving. Rising. Falling. The rhythm was maddening. He needed more. He needed deeper, but Noelle was going slow. Slow and sensual. Every glide of her body had his muscles aching with the effort to hold back.

He wanted to take, and he would, but first...

Noelle.

He kept stroking the center of her need. He knew now just how she liked to be touched. Knew the caresses she needed. Knew just how to make her eyes go blind and to make her gasp.

When she moaned his name, he smiled.

When she came, crying out, her body tensing, he took over.

His hands locked tightly around her hips. He lifted her body, up and down, again and again, driving in the rhythm he needed. When it wasn’t enough, when he needed more, deeper, he twisted with her, putting her beneath him on that rug.

And he took her. Claimed her. Pleasure flooded through him.

He kissed her when the release erupted. Kissed her and tasted life and hope. Tasted everything he’d ever wanted.

Thomas knew that, in an instant, he would kill to keep her by his side.

* * *

THE STORM HAD PASSED. Noelle stared out at the sea of white around the cabin. In the distance, she could hear the rumble of snowplows.

The road in front of their cabin was covered, but she knew they’d be getting out of there soon enough.

Her gaze slid toward the trees that lined the property. Had the perp survived the night? She bet he had. But...

“My bullet hit him,” she said quietly. Thomas was behind her. Not talking. They hadn’t talked much during the remainder of the night.

They’d made love, and exhausted, she’d fallen asleep in his arms. When she’d woken up, he’d been dressed. Armed.

And the day had dawned.

“I grazed him,” Thomas said, as he drew closer to her. “Or at least, I think I did.”

Her shot had been at near point-blank range, so Noelle figured the wound she’d inflicted had to be bad. “He’ll need medical help.” She glanced toward Thomas. “I hit him in the chest. Not his heart, but enough of a wound that the guy can’t just keep walking around without treatment.” Not even close. “If he survived the storm, he’ll be looking for someone to patch him up.” So they’d check first with local doctors and veterinary personnel. Someone with medical training.

“He’ll look, unless he’s the kind of man used to taking care of his own wounds.”

Noelle thought of the scars on Thomas’s body. “You’ve done that.”

“When it comes down to either being able to stitch up yourself or dying, yeah, you learn to stitch that skin pretty fast.” His voice was grim. “I’ve dug bullets out. Hell, I’ve even cauterized knife wounds. In the field, you do what you have to do, and you keep going.”

The words of a soldier. But they weren’t looking for a soldier. They were looking for a killer.