Chapter 16

"What?" Nicki blinked back at Stefan in total confusion, clearly not tracking the question. It didn't matter. He already had his answer…because this time, she'd used Egyptian.

Unexpected satisfaction, pride, and something more rocketed through him—possessiveness, he realized with a jolt. She was his. She had to be his, and his alone. This crackling live wire of a woman had given herself over so fully to him, so completely that she'd pulled one of his most treasured gifts over herself like a well-worn sweater. In all his long years of giving and taking pleasure, that had never happened before, and the very idea of it made his nerves sing, his heart thump so hard it nearly hurt. He wasn't sure if Nicki would maintain his ability to speak any language in the world when the haze of her own pleasure wore off, but it didn't matter. She was his.

Even if she didn't know it yet.

Stefan reveled in Nicki's contented sigh as he moved back up her body, retracing his path with his hands and his mouth until he was once more face-to-face with her. Her lips were full and open, her eyes nearly glazed. And when he pushed at her gently, urging her legs open once more, she complied with another deeply happy sigh.

He took that as a resounding yes to his next stage of the operation.

Leaning forward, his questing fingers found the other item he'd carried over on the tray. He slid the foil packet off the nightstand and sat back on his heels as Nicki watched, her eyes now wide and fascinated. He knew she'd watched a man sheathe himself before, so her interest wasn't in the generic act—but the fact that it was his cock being readied to enter her, his shaft accepting the tight constriction of protection. She watched as he leaned back over her, caging her in, but her expression held a curious mix of delight and excitement—the best combination he'd ever seen on any woman, ever.

Mentally berating himself to maintain control, he nudged between Nicki's legs with unerring precision. Her deep moan of approval did nothing to help his iron lock on his own reactions, and as he found her center and pushed in, he gritted his teeth against the sudden shock of wet heat surrounding him.

"Oh…my," Nicki muttered, this time in Hindi, and he blinked his eyes open, unaware that he'd closed them. Nicki apparently had been suffering the same level of eyestrain, because her lids remained resolutely shut, her mouth opening a tiny "o" of pleasure as he pushed in another quarter inch, allowing her body to get used to his sensual intrusion. He could feel the moment she relaxed, welcoming him in deeper. He pressed into her in one long slide, watching as her eyelids fluttered open, her unfocused eyes a mixture of pleasure, satisfaction and new, deeper need.

His favorite combination.

"Ah," she sighed, no translation required, as he slid home, her body moving with his as he rocked into her, finding the pace that fit her natural rhythm beat for beat. She shifted with him, angling her knees up so he could sink even more deeply inside her, reveling in the new sensations that shuddered through him at the intimate access to her body. She was unbelievably tight, surrounding him with wet heat, and every muscle in her upper body was pulled taut as she stretched up to meet his. Sex with Nicki Clark clearly wasn't going to be a relaxing activity—ever. At least not until after they'd both reached orgasm more than once.

Stefan could practically feel his eyes dilate at the thought of bringing Nicki to the brink again. And again.

He plunged deeper into her and something in her manner gave way, her body suddenly going nearly limp beneath him as she breathed out a long, gratified moan. Her surrender pushed him inexorably closer to that goal. She stretched out beneath him languorously, allowing him to sink further still, and her eyes fluttered open.

In that moment, he realized he had never known anyone like this woman. Her masks—and there were multiple ones he realized in a flash of clarity—had fallen away, and there wasn't anything left in her expression but an aching, raw need.

His heart beat harder again, heavier, with an urgency that made his chest tight, but he ignored it. In this moment, he wanted to ignore everything but Nicki Clark.

"Kiss me," he whispered, and Nicki's lips twitched into a smile, her neck arching to meet him as he bent toward her. She offered up her kiss as a benediction, and he drank in her absolution, unsure of why she was blessing him, but knowing that he craved it more than air. At the touch of her lips, a renewed strength poured through him, lighting his blood on fire. Then one of her hands came up and slid behind his neck, another over her shoulders, and she broke his braced-arm position and dragged him down to her body, so they were fused together, inch by perfect inch.

Nicki ran her hands down his back, pressing the heels of her hands into his muscles until her fingers reached the curve of his ass. She panned her hands wide and pulled him in as she surged forward, actively stroking him with her body, her hand, and her mouth all at once. The combination of pressures built within him an impossible force, and he grit his teeth to maintain his concentration. He wasn't going to give up this sensual assault anytime soon, not even for the unbearable pleasure he knew that release would afford him.

Then Nicki was pushing against him, her leg lifting to brace against the bed. "Roll over, you big ox," she muttered. She was back to speaking English again, and he followed her direction willingly, their bodies separating for a head-clearing moment until she was on top of him again, her legs straddling his hips, her hands on his chest as her breasts swayed forward, tantalizingly out of reach. She didn't give him much chance to recover as she positioned herself over him, her toned legs taut as she took him into her body again, only a bare inch, then slid free.

"Nicki," Stefan growled.

"What, you don't like to play?" she teased. "All that racing we've done, the swim competition, the climbing—you can't tell me that's true."

As she spoke she dropped down further over him, her abs knotting to hold her position for a bare moment before she slid up to the tip of his shaft again.

Stefan glared at her as she continued the sensual assault, sliding up and down with a disruptive rhythm, clearly enjoying herself as she teased him. All the while her efforts had the exact opposite of what he was sure she intended. She wasn't slowing him down, not at all. She was driving him to a fevered pitch.

"Nicki," he managed and she finally sank home, clenching around him as she swayed forward.

"Better?" she asked, and he grimaced, but his gaze was filled with her. Her beautiful red-gold hair cascaded around her shoulders. Her hands were positioned on his chest to frame her small, rounded breasts. Her face now angled down as well, her green eyes lidded, her mouth slightly open as she rocked into him, focusing intently on his face.

Stefan pulsed up to meet her. Her breasts swayed into reach, and he leaned up, drifting his mouth across one soft globe as Nicki sighed. His hand came up and around her back, anchoring her to him, giving him greater access to one, then the other breast. He leaned back and drew her down closer, drawing her face to his as he settled back on the pillows.

"Kiss me," he whispered again, and she smiled, the pressure of her driving down on his cock an intense counterpoint to her soft expression.

"Okay," she said quietly. The touch of her on his lips sent him spiraling upward faster than he would have expected, and though Nicki pulled away, he found himself already at the brink. She seemed to realize it too, because her movements became steadier, more urgent, and her eyes were bright as she focused on his face.

A tide surged within Stefan, and he fixed on her face as well, wanting to memorize every detail, every nuance, as if all of this might be a dream that he was on the verge of waking up from, and he couldn't bear to let it end.

When he reached his climax he nearly shouted, an almost soundless battle cry, but it reverberated through Nicki and into the air around them, joining them together note for note, pulse for pulse. The room was suddenly thrust into a brilliant golden light, everything sharper, more focused—gilded. Nicki rode out his orgasm, her hands tight on his chest, her gaze intent, appearing to completely ignore the transformation around them. But there was no denying the smile that spread across her face as she watched him lose control. Then she was the one rolling off him. Grabbing the towel from the nightstand she tossed it his way before wheeling away.

"Hey—"

"You about broke me. Quiet," she snapped, the laughter in her voice lightening his mood further as she retreated to the bathroom. He sank back into the bed, his hand lifting to massage his jaw. He'd never smiled more in his life than in the days since he'd met Nicki.

She was back moments later, piling into bed with him, her gaze searching his face as she forgot her hesitation for a moment. He didn't let her recover it, instead reaching out and pulling her against him.

"That was extraordinary—and you are extraordinary," he said, his chest quaking as she laughed against his body.

"I think you've shunted off a ton of adrenaline. A good thing for the mission." Her English was easy and confident. Had she even realized she'd spoken fully a half-dozen other languages with him? Would she be able to do it again?

He was more than willing to try, but for now, he simply chuckled. "I'm grateful for your efforts to ensure our success. I'll note it in the report."

She burrowed a little more closely in his arms, as if she was born for his embrace. "Appreciated, sir," she said.

He leaned close to brush his lips against her hair and held her tight.