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“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his eyes hot. “Spread your pussy lips and play with your clit.”
I blushed hard. I wasn’t used to someone talking to me like that. But my fingers tentatively did as I was told. I closed my eyes as I found the aching flesh between my folds and rubbed it gently, my breath hitching as my nipples pearled beneath my bra.
I wanted to be naked as he watched me pleasure myself but somehow I sensed that he enjoyed my frustration and would punish me if I stopped to strip.
Everything was about power with Jameson.
He took my power but held it carefully.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.
How I knew this, I don’t know. Something inside me whispered the truth of it and I accepted the knowledge even if I didn’t understand.
Jameson slowly stripped, enjoying my show. But as I came close to my finish, he stilled my hand and pushed it away.
I groaned, needing that release but his growled, “Not yet” explained everything.
He wanted to be in control of when I came.
I shuddered with understanding.
“Suck my cock, baby girl,” he instructed as he stood at the end of the bed, his thick erection jutting out, seeking the warmth of my mouth. I rolled over and took his shaft in my hand, secretly loving the hot steel of his rigid member and closed my mouth over the fleshy head.
Tiny drops of saltiness met my tongue and I lapped it up, enjoying that even though he seemed in control, I had this effect on him.
His hands threaded through my hair as I sucked, his grunts of pleasure arrowing my womb with sensation as I followed his lead.
Why did I enjoy this so much?
It was despicable that I caved so easily, that I was so swayed by the promise of toe-curling pleasure but I was caught in his spell and there was no fighting it.
He stopped me when he came close and helped me out of my shirt and bra. He paused, his knuckle gently caressing where that kid had punched me.
I tried not to cry. I must look horrible, I realized.
“Don’t,” I begged, looking away.
But he wouldn’t let me. He snagged my chin and kissed me with the sort of tenderness I would’ve expected from a lover who actually cared about me and it messed with my head.
I couldn’t deal with the possibility that Jameson had feelings for me because he was also black-mailing me into doing what he wanted.
It was fucked up and manipulative — which wasn’t love in my book.
I pushed his hand away and he seemed to understand and agree.
Neither of us wanted feelings.
If I was willing to grudgingly admit that sex with him was electrifying, that was as far as I was going to go.
Nothing else was an option.
Jameson stalked to my dresser and jerked it open. He found a pair of panty hose that I hadn’t worn in forever and quickly tied my hands together, drawing my arms above my head and holding them there as he towered above me.
I trembled but there was something about being so helpless, yet completely safe, that turned up the arousal to a scorching level.
“You’re mine,” he said, holding me captive as he instructed, “Keep your arms up, baby girl. Do you understand?”
I nodded and he released my arms to spread my legs.
My breasts heaved as I gulped air, crying out the minute his hot tongue breached my folds. He masterfully drove me to the brink and then yanked me back, only to drive me again.
I was soaked with my own juices as he continued to torture me with sweet pleasure.
And then, when I couldn’t hold back any longer, he shocked me when he breached my behind with a finger as I came. Everything clenched in wild abandon as waves of pleasure crashed around me. I lost my ability to see, hear, or think.
All I could do was feel.
I came back to my senses with reluctance, my eyelids fluttering groggily, registering slowly.
Jameson rolled me to my stomach and pulled my hips up, framing my behind with his hands.
“You have a perfect ass,” he murmured, right before slapping a cheek soundly.
I yelped at the shock of it but when his tongue returned to my folds, lapping up my juices as if it were the sweetest nectar, I couldn’t help but want more of whatever he was dishing out.
I felt the head of Jameson’s erection pressing against my folds, breaching the tight space between my thighs and I cried out with pleasure as he stretched me inch by inch.
“Jameson,” I cried out, gasping as he slowly filled me with his entire length. There was so much of him inside me that I didn’t know how it was possible that it all fit.
But the intense sensation of being completely filled was intoxicating.
Oh God, why was it such exquisite torture?
“This is my pussy,” he grunted as he pushed against me, rocking my body with each thrust, grinding against me without mercy. “It’ll always be mine, baby girl.”
I couldn’t argue. I didn’t have the wherewithal to try. All I could do was brace myself against the onslaught of pleasure that rippled throughout my body with each hard thrust.
Tears burned behind my eyes. He was right. There would never be another who could obliterate his memory no matter how much time passed.
I belonged to Jameson.
He had forcefully awakened a sleeping beast inside me, one that demanded this fierce pleasure, one that wasn’t satisfied with anything soft and yielding.
That familiar pressure began to build again, inexplicably quick and I struggled to fend it off but I couldn’t stop what was coming.
Jameson’s thrusts became wild, shaking the entire bed, slamming the headboard against the wall as he came with a shout that probably woke the neighborhood.
But I came seconds later and my cries were nearly as loud.
When I finally opened my eyes again, I saw Jameson lying beside me, his arm flung over his face, breathing hard.
He was such a physically beautiful man even if his heart was black.
Everything about him was distinctly masculine.
Every ridge of muscle cording his arms and belly, to the rough scruff on his chin that said, I don’t fucking care what you think about me.
Jameson opened his eyes and rolled to his side to gently remove the panty hose imprisoning my hands.
And then he shocked me by smearing the seed that was slowly dripping out of me all over my mound, as if rubbing it into my skin.
Without words, he was saying quite clearly that I belonged to him.
His touch was seared into my skin, part of my DNA structure and there was nothing that would ever free me from his mark on my soul.
My breath hitched as he held my gaze, wordlessly exchanging a deeper understanding of what flowed between us.
He’d never leave me alone.
Jameson Reed was going to be the death of me.
Jameson
I hadn’t meant to stay the night.
But then I hadn’t meant to fuck her repeatedly either.
My baby girl was exhausted.
Yeah, she’s mine. Get over it.
Her blond hair was in a tangle as she slept, her mouth slightly open, oblivious to the world.
Ivy’s naked body was sprawled across the bed. The scent of sex filled the room.
As it should.
We fucked well into the night without cleaning up.
There was something I couldn’t get enough of when it came to her.
She was an enigma to me. Unlike any woman I’d ever known.
Fierce yet soft; naive yet worldly.
And so damn loyal.
As much as I wanted to close the Cobalt Viper case, a part of me had wanted her to refuse my offer.
To tell me to “go fuck myself” for asking such a thing of her to save her brother.
But she’d do anything to save Frankie.
Did that piece of shit understand what a gift he had in his sister? I’d never had even an ounce of that kind of loya
lty in my entire life.
No one had cared about me.
My jackwad father was too busy repopulating the world to care about the kids he spread around and my mom? Hell, she was a drug addict whore without the benefit of getting paid for spreading her legs.
The only loyalty I’d ever known was from myself.
Even my partner Hank was out for himself and that didn’t bother me because I understand it.
And now I was sending Ivy into the lion’s den, knowing full well that she might not come out.
Something tightened inside me as a growl threatened to pop from my mouth.
I’d fucking kill anyone who touched her.
Like that kid.
I nearly broke him for daring to touch my girl.
The marks he’d left behind ignited fresh rage that was hard to smother.
The only recourse I had was to find other victims so that kid could look forward to a nice long stay behind bars, taking it up the ass like the prison bitch he was.
But rape victims were notoriously unreliable. Most didn’t report the crime and others were too afraid to testify.
If I had it my way, I’d just shoot the bastards in the nuts and bill their family for the bullet. Seemed fair.
But apparently, the bleeding hearts had a stranglehold on the voting public.
No shooting perps. Must follow due-process.
That’s why I enjoyed undercover work.
Rules were bendable.
I returned my focus to Ivy.
She looked like a captured princess.
I’d never seen a more beautiful woman.
I wanted to hold her, protect her, fuck her senseless.
And I wanted to shake the shit out of her for her undying loyalty to her brother.
It was Frankie’s fault she was in my bed.
If Frankie hadn’t been a total loser, I wouldn’t have arrested him and then she wouldn’t have walked into the precinct to bail him out.
And I wouldn’t have set the course.
All things being true, there was no denying that path of reason but I wasn’t being reasonable anymore.
She brought out a beast in me that I couldn’t control.
