The Undercover Billionaire Page 19

  He glanced at her, meeting her dark eyes, seeing behind the glaze of pleasure, satisfaction too, as if she liked the fact that his hands were shaking. It made him even harder and he wanted to say something wicked to her about it, about how hot she made him. But he was too close to the edge.

  Instead, he flipped her over onto her front then shoved a pillow under her hips, pulling her back up so her butt pressed against his aching groin. She turned her head to the side, her body trembling.

  He’d always liked this position, liked the power of it, but it felt even more intense now. The past couple of times he’d been at her mercy as she’d run her hands all over his chest, but now she was at his.

  He slid a hand beneath her, spreading his fingers out on her stomach to hold her still, and then he flexed his hips, easing into her tight heat. Going slow, not only because she might still be tender, but also because slow seemed to be his new modus operandi and he was enjoying the hell out of it.

  She took a sharp breath as he pushed into her, sliding as deep as he could get before pulling back, relishing the feel of her pussy clenching around every inch of his dick. Then again. The long, slick glide inside her, in and out, slow and deep.

  Her lashes fluttered closed, her mouth open, soft sighs escaping as he moved.

  The pleasure was beyond words. He stroked her hip, the curve of her ass, her soft, rounded thigh, something raw surging in him. The edge of desperation. Possessiveness. Need. She was lying on her front with her dark hair everywhere, her body clenching tight around him as he pushed in and out of her.

  But there was too much space between them. Too much distance. He needed her close, her skin against his, not just at the point of their physical connection.

  He shoved himself inside of her and then leaned forward, putting his hands down on either side of her head, covering her completely with his body. She gave a moan and now he could feel her pressed up against him, every inch of her, and that was so much better. So fucking good. Her tight little pussy gripping his cock, the softness of her ass against his groin, her elegant spine to his chest. Her hair smelled like heaven itself, and he buried his face in her neck, thrusting harder, deeper.

  She moved beneath him, her hips in time with his, and she had the rhythm now, his beautiful Olivia. It wasn’t just him driving.

  But fucking hell, it was too good and he was losing it.

  So he whispered her name, bit her shoulder, pushed one hand beneath her and found her clit with his finger, rubbing it over and over in time with his thrusts, until she went stiff beneath him, crying out against the pillow.

  Then he moved harder, deeper, feeling savage and feral. Like an animal with a potential mate. Wanting to claim her, mark her. Make her his so completely she’d never want anything different. Never want anyone else.

  He’d never felt like this before, and perhaps he should have fought it. Olivia de Santis wasn’t his and never would be. But he didn’t fight it. Because right now, right here, she was his. She’d given herself to him, he’d been her choice, and that meant something. He didn’t know quite what, but something. Something important.

  The pleasure began to release in an astonishing, annihilating wave, rolling over him, crushing him, and he cried her name against her neck, holding tight as he thrust one last time deep and hard into her.

  And let the climax drag him under.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Olivia woke to find that the bed was moving. In fact, the whole room seemed to be moving, and it took her a moment or two to remember why.

  Lunch with Daniel. Wolf coming for her. The yacht. Her freak-out and then …

  A wash of heat went through her as memory hit, making her groan and fling an arm across her face.

  Wolf’s hands on her, Wolf’s mouth on her. On her breasts and between her thighs. His cock inside her. Lying on her front with his massive body pressing her down onto the bed, anchoring her as he moved in her. Surging into her, powerful and inexorable as the tide itself …

  There was an ache between her legs, insistent, nagging. She felt tender and a bit sore, and she would have said it was impossible to want him again, yet somehow she did.

  Keeping one arm over her face, she reached out with the other, but after groping around a bit, it was clear that she was alone in the bed.

  Disappointed, she moved her arm from her face and blinked around.

  The cabin was, indeed, empty. The light coming through the portholes was fading, which meant she must have slept a good couple of hours. Strange. She never went to sleep during the day. Then again, she never had emotional breakdowns, followed by the loss of her virginity either.

  Sighing, she sat up, looking around for her clothes. Her blue dress was damp and scrunched up into a ball at the end of the bed, and she didn’t like the idea of forcing herself into it. It was tight and she didn’t feel like wearing something tight. She felt … oddly light. As if there had been a stone sitting on her chest that had been taken away, and now all she needed to do was push off with her toes and she’d float right up into the sky.

  It was weird.

  Ignoring the dress, she found the shirt Wolf had been wearing on the floor and picked that up instead. It was far too big, the arms ridiculously long and the hem coming to just above her knees, but it wasn’t tight and it smelled of him, and she liked the idea of being surrounded by his scent.

  Slipping off the bed, she did the buttons up, then pushed open the door to the tiny corridor, moving toward the galley and the living area.

  Wolf was sitting on the funny circular bench, his attention on the laptop placed on the table in front of him.

  He was shirtless, all his incredible muscles and tattoos on display. The roughly handsome lines of his face were drawn into lines of intense concentration, his straight black brows pulling down. Through those long black lashes, she could see the glitter of his eyes, green and blue.

  He was so beautiful.

  He made her heart kick. Hard.

  But not in the same way as before. Because now she knew things about him that she hadn’t before. She knew what it was like to touch his skin and to have him touch her in return. To come with that hungry, avid gaze on her. To hear the sound of his own climax as he thrust deep and hard inside her. To have his tongue on her, in her …

  Rough, physical, heated things. Things she’d never known and never imagined.

  Things that changed the feeling in her chest in ways she didn’t understand.

  She must have made a sound, because he looked up suddenly, his gaze catching hers, making her instantly breathless.

  He smiled and it felt as if the summer sun had flooded the small cabin with light and warmth. “Hey, baby. Want something to eat?”

  She wanted to go and sit down, but that smile of his was making her feel unsteady, so she leaned against the doorframe instead. “Maybe. I never got my tea.”

  “Come sit. I’ll make you a fresh one.” He slid off the bench with all that fluid, athletic grace, and she thought he was going to move into the galley.

  But he didn’t. He came straight for her, and then his big palms were cupping her face, turning it up to his as his mouth came down on hers. Kissing her with such tenderness, she felt tears start behind her eyes.

  Good God, crying? What was wrong with her? It was just a kiss.

  With an effort, she blinked them away as he lifted his head and looked down at her, that gorgeous smile playing around his mouth. “Think you can make it to the table?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You look a little unsteady on your feet. I mean, it’s okay, I have that effect on women.”

  She laughed, half embarrassed, half thrilled that he’d noticed. “I think I can manage.”

  He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, making her shiver. “Dammit. There goes my excuse for picking you up and carrying you over there.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Alternatively, I could just carry you back to bed. Your tea will have to wait though.”

  The na
gging ache between her thighs liked this idea, liked it very much indeed, but her heart felt raw, the feeling inside her too different and new, making her think that a bit of space was what she needed, not more sex.

  “Tempting.” She touched his chest. “But I really need my tea. Plus … I’m a little sore.” Not a lie, though not quite the truth either.

  His gaze flickered and she had the impression he knew exactly how much of an excuse that was. But he didn’t call her on it. Instead his smile warmed. “Hey, you’re wearing my shirt.”

  She flushed like an idiot. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Hell no. I like it.” His hands dropped from her face and then she was in his arms, held against his broad, naked chest. “But if you’re gonna wear it and nothing else, I can’t be held responsible for anything that might happen to you.”

  For a second she thought she was going to be carried back to bed anyway, and part of her was thrilled at the idea, no matter what she’d decided about space.

  But he didn’t, turning instead and taking a couple of steps toward the bench, then depositing her on it.

  Telling herself she wasn’t disappointed, she watched him go back to the galley and start the tea-making process.

  A strange silence fell, one that shouldn’t have been awkward and yet somehow was.

  Damn. Had her refusal to go back to bed hurt him? She couldn’t think why it would.

  “So,” he said, his deep, rough voice breaking the silence. “Your father has started pulling the city apart looking for you.”

  A shock went through her. Oh God. She’d entirely forgotten about the fact that Wolf had supposedly kidnapped her. Again. And this time her father was under no illusion about who had done it.

  “Oh,” she said faintly. “And I guess he’s looking for you too?”

  “Yeah.”

  Fear began to curl icy tendrils through her. She stared at him. He was moving calmly, taking out a tea bag and dumping it in a cup, making her tea as if it was no big deal.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve got contacts keeping an eye on things. They let me know what’s happening.”

  Olivia clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. Her father would be so angry once he found out that Wolf had been lying to him all these years. So very, very angry. “Does he know that you’ve been—”

  “No.” Wolf poured hot water into her cup then added some milk, stirring. Then he dumped the tea bag, picked up the cup, and brought it over to her, placing it on the table in front of her. “All he knows is that I interrupted your romantic lunch with May, took you out, and disappeared.”

  She looked up at him, not wanting to pick up the tea yet since her fingers still weren’t steady and she didn’t want to spill it. “You shouldn’t have come into the restaurant. You should have sent a note to me or something, kept your identity secret.”

  He gave her another of those heartbreaking smiles, touching her cheekbone lightly. “You worried about me?”

  There was no point in denying it. “Yes, of course I’m worried about you. Dad will be furious and I don’t know what he’ll do if he catches you.”

  But Wolf only shrugged. “I’m a SEAL, Liv. I’m not exactly helpless. Plus, I’m not planning on having him catch me.”

  Her hands twisted in her lap. “But what if someone followed us from the restaurant?”

  “No one followed us from the restaurant.” He moved around the other side of the table and sat down, pushing shut the laptop. There was something sitting next to it, something long and lethal looking, metal gleaming in the last rays of the sun coming through the portholes.

  A gun.

  The icy tendrils of fear deepened.

  Wolf picked it up and began checking over it, each movement practiced and certain and capable, as if he’d done this a thousand times. “I made sure we weren’t tailed in the taxi, that’s why I got him to drop us off a little way from the boat basin. I also made sure we avoided any security cameras. The Lady isn’t registered under my name, neither is the berth here, so even if somehow someone suspects we’re on a boat, they’re going to find it damn near impossible to track us down.” He flicked something on the gun that made a clicking sound, then placed it back down on the table and met her gaze. “As long as we stay here, we’re safe.”

  Olivia looked into his eyes. He looked so calm. Strong and steady, that mountain enduring. It should have reassured her. But inexplicably, all she seemed able to concentrate on were those icy threads of fear.

  Maybe it was the gun. The way he held it …

  “Okay,” she said, trying to ignore the cold feeling. “I understand. But how long do we have to stay here for?”

  He didn’t look away. “Until I’ve figured out how to take your father down.”

  Oh. Yes. She’d forgotten about that.

  Deciding this was a great time to try that tea, she took her hands from her lap and picked up the cup. The ceramic was hot against her chilly fingers, almost burning, but she didn’t let it go. Instead she raised it to her mouth and sipped.

  “I told you I wasn’t going to lie to you anymore,” Wolf went on quietly. “And I meant it. When I told you I’m taking your father down, I meant permanently.”

  Permanently.

  It took her a second to process that because he couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Because permanent meant …

  “Yes.” Wolf’s gaze was unflinching. “I’m going to kill him, Olivia.”

  The icy grip of fear spread out inside her, making her fingers go numb, and she almost lost her grip on her teacup. Putting it down, the cup rattling against the saucer, her heart beginning to race, she started at him in disbelief.

  There was nothing but hard certainty in his beautiful eyes.

  “Why?” The word sounded breathless and shocked. “Because he supposedly killed your father?”

  “Yes.” His voice was harder than granite, clipped. “And because he’s not gonna stop until he’s crushed Tate into the fucking ground.”

  “No, he wouldn’t—”

  “Did you know he kidnapped my adoptive sister a couple of weeks ago? That he was going to use her to get his hands on Tate Oil and Gas?”

  Olivia blinked. The words made no sense to her whatsoever. “Kidnapped your adoptive sister?” she echoed stupidly. “That’s insane.”

  “Yeah well, he did. Took her back to his own mansion and held her there for a whole night.” There was something cold in Wolf’s eyes now, all that tender warmth gone. “And I bet you never heard a fucking thing about that, right?”

  No. She hadn’t.

  “Two weeks ago…” Her lips felt numb and nothing was going to warm up her hands. “I heard nothing. I didn’t see—”

  “No, of course you didn’t. He’s protecting you.” Wolf’s gaze was so sharp it felt like it was cutting strips off her “He made sure you never knew anything about this. Or maybe you just didn’t want to know.”

  Her brain tried frantically to catch up, to process what he was saying. “I never … I didn’t know.…”

  “I told you he’s been selling experimental weaponry on the black market and getting the military to help him. I told you back at the hotel, but you didn’t believe me. You need to believe me now. That’s treason, Liv. And the penalty for treason is death.”

  She didn’t know what made her hand flash out all of a sudden, what made her fingers close around the hard metal of that gun. What made her lift it, pointing it straight at the man sitting opposite her. The man who was telling her things that she didn’t want to believe, but that somewhere deep in her heart, she did.

  The man she thought she loved, but maybe didn’t after all.

  For all that her father had been a weapons billionaire, she’d never touched a gun before, because she didn’t like them. The metal didn’t feel cold like she thought it would, but warm and heavy. Her numb fingers tightened, firming her grip. The barrel was shaking as she kept it pointed at Wolf’s broad chest, at t
he tattoos she probably wouldn’t ever find the stories behind now.

  He didn’t move, merely stared at her, and she knew it hadn’t been speed or surprise that had stopped him from grabbing at her hand as she’d snatched the gun. He’d let her take it.

  “You gonna shoot me, baby?” His voice was soft, full of that roughness she loved. But cold too.

  “I don’t believe you.” Her heart was beating too fast and her hand was shaking, but she kept it pointed right at him. “I don’t believe any of this.”

  “Yeah, you do. I think you know I’m telling the truth.”

  “You can’t kill him, Wolf. I won’t let you.”

  “So, what? You’re gonna stop me?”

  She struggled to get a breath. “Yes, if I have to.”

  “Why? What’s he ever done for you except use you?”

  It hurt, catching something raw deep inside her. Tears filled her eyes and she had to blink them away hard. “I know that. But that doesn’t mean he deserves to die, and it certainly doesn’t mean you have to be the one to kill him.”

  Wolf tilted his head. “Doesn’t it? What do you think I’ve been training all my fucking life for? I’m Dad’s weapon. And my target is de Santis. It always has been.”

  “Always has been…”

  She took a ragged breath, her stomach lurching. “Wh-What? But I thought you were supposed to get close to Dad. To get secrets—”

  “Yeah, sure. And then, when the time came, I would be in place to deliver the coup de grâce.” As he said that, he raised his hand, pointing his fingers at her, miming aiming a gun and pulling the trigger.

  Her throat closed, her hand continuing to shake. He looked so cold now, so distant. Not the warm, affectionate man who’d touched her in the bedroom, but someone else. Someone hard. Implacable as a judge.

  He’s a SEAL. This is what he looks like when he goes to war.

  The realization hit her hard, in a way she’d never fully appreciated before. Because, of course, he was an elite warrior and he’d been to war. He’d done things she couldn’t even imagine. Hard, violent things. Killing to protect his country, his team. And now he was going to kill to protect his family.