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“God, I love owning your sweet mouth,” Lochlan groans, hips thrusting, fucking into it faster. “And your pussy. Is my cum still leaking out of your tight cunt?”
“Mmm,” I moan around him, hating how much I like the way his hot, thick release feels inside of me, seeping down my thighs, a reminder of our mind-blowing orgasms. I still can’t believe it was Lochlan who gave me the emergency contraceptive. The pill I didn’t take.
“Fuck, I can’t…I can’t waste it,” he grunts.
Before I can figure out what he means, he’s pulling out of my mouth and crawling behind me. I hear the Velcro and a second later my left ankle is free, then the right. I moan in relief as he pulls me off my knees, straightening my legs flat. Lochlan pushes them together, then he’s wedging his cock between them…
“Oh!” I exclaim when he penetrates me. His knees on the outsides of my legs keep mine closed as he rocks into me. Rocks, not slams, or thrusts like the times before. He remains deep as if savoring the sensation, his teeth biting into my shoulder to muffle his growl. His weight on top of my back, the angle, the way he slides through me, I love it all. Seconds later, I pulse around him with the mother of all orgasms.
“That’s it, baby.” With a gruff chuckle, he says, “Your pussy wants me coming in it, even if you don’t. Now tilt your hips up so I can give it every single drop.”
His weight disappears from my back to lift my hips himself. He gives my ass cheek a slap, then he’s swearing, cock swelling inside me before pouring that familiar warmth of his release into me.
Lochlan seems to really love doing that, so I keep letting him without protest. Either my period is about to start, or it won’t because I’m already pregnant because I didn’t take that pill. If I am, I’ll deal with it later.
After our joint shower and breakfast? Lunch? I have no concept of time, but we eat and then I end up back in his bed, lying there restrained and letting his seed soak my flesh over and over again. Until I’m so sore even after him licking me that he only inserts the head of his dick in me to stroke the rest of his shaft through his release. Not a drop goes anywhere else. He’s a man on a mission. A man possessed.
I occasionally sleep between rounds. Lochlan mostly leaves my ankles uncuffed, but not my wrists. Never my wrists. The muscles in my arms and shoulders are sore, but I get the feeling that if I ask him to free me, I’ll be sent back to my room alone. So, I don’t ask. I’m enjoying my husband’s rapt attention too much to leave.
30
Lochlan
There may be an extra pep in my step today while striding down to the suite at the end of the fifth floor that’s been turned into a torture dungeon. Or so everyone thinks.
Not only did my wife give me this excellent idea, she also gave me her body, over and over again for the past twenty-four hours. Having Sophie chained to my bed in nothing but her tennis skirt or naked, begging for more while I fucked her was even better than I imagined it would be. I lost track of how many times I came inside of her. If she wasn’t pregnant before, here’s hoping she is now. It was by far the best sex of my life, and I can’t wait to have her again when I get home. Hell, leaving her this morning wasn’t easy. Knowing she was too sore to go another round is the only reason I was able to walk out the door.
I still can’t believe Sophie not only kept my knife, but that she carries it around in her sports bra because she said it makes her feel safe. Even though it’s my favorite knife, the only present my mother ever bought for me, I left it with Sophie to keep safely tucked away with her succulent tits.
“What’s going on up here, boss?” Wolfe asks.
“Don’t worry about it,” I reply as we walk down the hallway with Wade. I hate keeping shit from my guards, but Sophie’s right. I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person once. Until I find them, everyone is a suspect. “Just watch the door and don’t let anyone interrupt.”
When we reach the door at the end of the hallway, I add, “Stay here and text if you need me,” before I swipe my keycard. Then I slip inside, letting the door slam behind me. As much as I trust Wolfe and Wade, not even my friends or guards need the details of what I’m doing. Or what Eli is doing.
“How’s it going?” I ask him.
“Slowly,” Eli says, flashing me a grin over his shoulder before turning back to touch the tools spread over the coffee table as if they’re his babies. “Just the way I like it.”
The sight of the bright red blood splattered over his gauze wrapped hands and rolled up sleeves of his white dress shirt, the handles of his “tools” as well as the plastic covering the floor underneath the single chair are a surprise. Not only because I told him not to actually cut into my employees without my permission, but also because Sherman Young, the security manager here at the casino while paler than usual doesn’t have a visible wound on his linebacker-sized body. He’s wearing his all-black uniform so maybe I missed something.
“Just waiting for Dante’s IT guys to finish reviewing the past years’ worth of Sherman’s bank accounts and phone records. He has until my phone dings to confess to…well, anything and everything they might dig up. Other than having his team clock in for him on the computer system whenever he’s running late, he hasn’t admitted to anything of substance.”
“I haven’t done shit. I wouldn’t betray you or the casino, and I would never kill anyone with a bomb. I swear it, boss!” the man exclaims, the whites of his eyes showing. “I’ll pay back every penny of time when I was late. Double or triple it.”
The few minutes he was running late is nothing. Honestly, I would ask someone to do the same for me if I were expected somewhere and couldn’t make it.
“What about your employees?” I move up closer to him. “Any of them doing shady shit that we should know about? Were any acting suspicious before the bombing?”
“No, sir,” he replies before he winces. “A couple may fudge their time too. Nothing much, though. A few minutes–”
I cut him off to ask, “You’ve got a family, right, Sherman? A son and a daughter?”
“Oh, fuck. Now it’s getting fun,” Eli whispers, as if shit’s about to get hardcore. From the corner of my eye, I swear the psycho reaches down to adjust his dick like he’s getting too excited by a lap dance in a strip club rather than in a fake torture room. What a freak.
“Y-yes, sir.” Sherman’s gaze goes to the other man as well for an instant. Noticing Eli’s arousal, or more than likely, concerned for his family, his fingers curl around the armrests of the leather chair so hard he’s about to rip them off.
“What’s fatherhood like?” I ask.
