Free Mister Black: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 1 (In the Shadows) by P.T. Michelle Page A

crumple, lifting me into his arms. Cradling me to his chest, he presses a kiss to my forehead, then carries me out of the library and down the hall in determined strides. His hold on me is fiercely tight as we enter another room, this one darker than the library, quieter.
    A bedroom.
    My body is still clenching and thrumming from the aftereffects of my climax as he lays me on the bed. He tugs my first boot off, then the second. His movements are swift, purposeful, like nothing will stop the gale force about to rush over me.
    Thunder booms outside, punctuating his actions, and I welcome every bit of his primitive fury. Bending forward, he surprises me when he slowly runs the tips of his fingers high along my leg before he begins to slide my thigh-high hose off. With each section of skin he exposes, he pauses to press a kiss, first, to my inner thigh, then the inside of my knee, and finally along the sensitive side of my ankle.
    Moving to my other leg, his fingers brush much higher on my thigh, causing my breathing to stall. As he makes his way down my leg, he applies light kisses in slightly different areas before removing the second hose completely. My body’s clenching in renewed arousal by the time he’s done.
    Straightening, he takes off his bow and quiver, then his belt and shirt. His breathing saws in and out as he stares down at me for a beat before removing his mask. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one affected by his attentive removal of my hose.
    The outline of his broad shoulders and hard, fit body make me want to explore every dip and hollow with my tongue. I’m sad that it’s too dark to see more than bits of light play on his face from trees moving in the wind outside, but that means he can’t really see mine either.
    I reach up and remove my mask. I want to kiss him without it in the way. I don’t want anything between us. We’ll just hide in the shadows instead.
    “Your name,” he says, his tone demanding compliance.
    I pull my dress over my head, tossing it to him.
    My answer.
    He crushes the material in a tight fist, then drops it to the floor. Reaching for my ankles, he encircles them, fingers flexing on my skin. Distant lightning flashes, briefly highlighting the top half of his face. The room goes dark again, and all I can picture is the near feral look in his amazing eyes as he tugs me toward him with a powerful jerk, his tone gravelly and full of want. “Then I’ll just call you Mine .”
    When he runs his hands up the inside of my thighs, pressing them to the bed with a quiet order, “Keep them here,” I comply, eager anticipation curling in my belly. I’m exposed, but he’s already seen the ugliest side of me. When I was raw and at my weakest. He just doesn’t know it.
    He slowly runs his nose up my wet panties, groaning low in his throat. I swallow as he inhales, then lets out a dark growl of pleasure. “Your scent is driving me insane.”
    He doesn’t touch me where I want him to though. Instead he runs his tongue along the edge of my underwear, the erotic sensation of his warmth so close but not hitting where I need him to puts me just shy of wanting to scream.
    I start to touch his dark hair, to direct him where I want him to go, but he jerks his head up and shakes it. “Keep your hands on the bed if you want me to make you come.”
    Gritting my teeth, I clutch the soft bedcovers underneath me, regretting that I can’t dig my fingers into the thick, silky mass. Is it as soft as it looks? What does it smell like?
    He grunts his approval, then presses his thumbs on either side of my entrance, opening my lips wider. I moan as he tugs my underwear slightly, pulling the cloth inside me. The brief brush against my clit makes me throb.
    Then he runs his tongue along the sensitive skin he’s exposed, so close but still not touching me. “You’re not hitting the right spot,” I say, my body clenching, needing friction.
    He chuckles and slides his hands under my butt. “Is this