Page 24

The sudden speed and pressure flings me over the edge. I come screaming his name, back bowed, grinding shamelessly on his face as I give myself over to the mind-numbing pleasure of it. I've never had an orgasm like this, so sharp it's almost painful, tightening every muscle in my body.

He pulls back while I'm still spasming, grabs his cock in his fist, and lines himself up. He pushes himself inside of me in one long thrust, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he feels me squeezing him in rhythmic pulses with the last of my orgasm.

"Christ," he gasps. "Oh fuck, I'm glad you sucked me off first. You'd have made me come just from that; it feels so fucking good. Oh fuck, this fucking pussy." He pulls out and thrusts back in, hard, his gaze fixed on mine. His arm slides under my waist, pulling me up and onto his lap as he keeps fucking up into me. "God, Oksana, you feel so good. You know how long it's been since I've fucked someone bare?"

"I don't want to hear about anyone else," I manage, even as I know it's the most unfair thing in the world to say. Any woman in the past he might mention pales in comparison to what I'm going to do to him, and anyway, I'm the one in his bed right now, making him moan and gasp and say such filthy things. But still… I don't want to hear it. Not with him buried in me, not with me still trembling from the last orgasm he gave me.

"God, it feels so good. So hot and wet and tight, this tight pussy wrapped around my bare cock." He buries his face against my throat, one hand wrapping in my hair as he sucks and bites at the sensitive flesh. I grip his shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch under my hands as he bounces me on his shaft like I weigh nothing at all.

"You feel good too," I whisper. "You're so big. God, I can feel it stretching me, you're so fucking thick…"

I feel him throb inside of me, and he laughs against my skin. "Good girl. You could make me come saying things like that."

"I'm going to make you come anyway," I whisper. And then, because I can't stop myself, I press my hand to his face and move him so that I can kiss him, as he thrusts up into me harder than before.

His mouth meets mine, rough and passionate now, devouring me as he fucks me for all he's worth. He grabs my wrist, moving my hand between us. "You can touch it now," he moans into my mouth. "Come on my cock, a chumann. Come all over me while I fill you up."

Then he's kissing me again as I start to rub my clit, his arm around my waist and hand gripping my ass as he moves me exactly the way he wants me. He's so confident, so utterly skilled in bed, and it drives me wild. I grind against him, meeting his every thrust, riding him as much as he's fucking me. I can feel another orgasm building, and I move my fingers faster suddenly desperate to reach another climax before Cormac hits his.

I feel it hit at the same moment that he groans and pulls me down hard onto his cock, his arm turning into an iron band around my waist as he clutches me to him. My nails dig into Cormac's shoulder as the orgasm pulses through me, and I feel him start to spurt inside of me, throbbing as I feel the heat of his cum.

Fuck, I think dazedly as the pleasure starts to ebb. I need to be better about taking my birth control if we're going to be doing this regularly. With the stress of the FBI visit to my home, I don't remember if I took my pill this morning.

I'll take extra tomorrow, I tell myself as Cormac slips out of me and falls back onto the bed, pulling me down next to him. If I take two tomorrow, it should be fine, right? I chew on my lower lip as he pulls me against his chest. I can't exactly start asking him to wear a condom now.

"That was so good," I breathe, turning my face into his chest. I run my fingers over the hair there, enjoying the texture of it. "Promise me we'll do this again."

And then I realize he's almost already asleep.

I wait until he's breathing evenly and is definitely fast asleep before I carefully slide away from him. If he wakes up, I'll say I'm going to the bathroom. But he doesn't stir, and I reach for a throw blanket at the end of the bed, wrapping it around myself before carefully stepping out into the hall.

There's no time like the present to start looking. I don't have a great excuse if he catches me out here, but I'll come up with something.

The hallway is dark. I stand still for a moment, letting my eyes adjust before I start carefully trying doors. I find a closet full of coats and a shelf of things I can't quite see in the dark. A second bathroom, tile cold under my feet, nothing of interest. And then another door that's locked. My pulse jumps, and I go up on my tiptoes, feeling around the top of the doorjamb. My fingers find the shape of a key, and my pulse leaps again.

The lock is more of a polite deterrent if the key is kept so close, and deep down I know that means nothing as sensitive as what the FBI wants is kept inside. But my curiosity is as strong as my need to leave no door unopened in this house in pursuit of what I need, and I quickly slip the key into the lock and push the door open.

I don't fully understand what I'm looking at immediately. It's a room full of various pieces of furniture and objects, but it's not a guest room, and it's not a storage room. And I realize slowly, as I take in the padded bench with leather cuff attachments near one wall, the X-shaped apparatus near another, the large bed, the cupboard, another apparatus that looks like old-time stocks, but with a way to lower the section with the holes in it, mounted restraints on another wall… I'm looking at something very, very private.

Something Cormac obviously keeps to himself, but it's not criminal accounts. It's evidence of very particular desires that he has that he clearly only wants some people to know about.

I think of how controlled he is normally, how difficult it is to get him to let go. The dominant side that I saw peeking out tonight, the way he talks to me in bed. And it all makes sense.

Cormac is into some definitely freaky shit. And he has a room fully kitted out here to indulge in it.

And then I remember what Reyes said. They've been watching him for a while, and they hadn't seen him bring a woman home. Long enough that they'd formed an opinion that he doesn't do that, which clearly isn't true.

But that also means it's been a long time since he's used this room.

I suddenly feel bad for him. Maybe I shouldn't—maybe he's just started going elsewhere, to some sex club or dungeon to work out his kinks, so to speak—but the thought of him having all this here and no one to explore it with feels sad. I know he wouldn't like me pitying him, but it's not that, exactly.

Suddenly, I want to be the one he gets to explore again with.

"What are you doing?"

8

OKSANA