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When my climax ended, I expected Jag to speed up his thrusts and chase his own release. Instead, strong hands clamped down on my hips and suddenly, I was off the bed and in the air. We ended up with Jag sitting against the headboard and me straddling his lap, still impaled on his thick length.
Jag mouthed at my neck, licking across his mark and gently sucking on it again. My core throbbed from the pleasure from his hot mouth on my skin, memories of how gently he brushed his lips across my broken body. How he took the pieces and made me whole again.
“Now, I want you to ride me, doll.” Jag’s eyes darkened and his fingers tightened around my waist. “Fuck yourself on my cock, Miri. Give me everything you have.”
I shivered at the way he said it, all commanding and husky and needy, with the slight Texas drawl that drove me crazy and sent molten lava pulsing through my veins. Jag’s hooded eyes were wild, his expression animalistic. One side of his mouth curled up in a domineering sneer.
He needs this and I would give him anything. Anything.
I nodded and slowly began raising and lowering myself, using my thigh muscles to slide up and down his steely length. I tried my best, bouncing faster and faster, but ran out of steam fast. A side effect of poor nutrition, lack of exercise, and continuous abuse at the hands of my captors.
Jag didn’t seem to mind. He growled and dug his fingers into my ass. Using his impressive strength, Jag easily lifted me up a
nd slammed me down on his cock, biceps bulging and flexing as he brought me down hard only to pull me up again. Over and over, raising and dropping me on his rigid cock, establishing a punishing pace. Jag planted his feet flat on the mattress to thrust his own hips up from the bed every time he yanked me down, causing our skin to slap together with an obscene smack.
My eyes rolled back and my head hung limply as another orgasm unexpectedly tore from my body. I stiffened when it hit, threw my head back, and screamed, so overstimulated I couldn’t have held back even if I wanted to. Desperate fingers clawed at his slippery, sweat slicked pecs, my nails gouging hard enough to leave marks. Too far gone to acknowledge my hoarse shouts, Jag raised me up and forced me down one final time as he shoved his cock so far up inside me, I was surprised I didn’t feel it in my throat. The tendons in his neck tensed and he cursed as the pleasure overtook his body.
“Goddammit, doll. Yes! Holy shit, yes!” Jag roared as he came, his long, thick cock swelling before it burst, shooting jet after jet of thick, hot semen deep inside me. A few more smaller thrusts and Jag’s body went limp beneath me. I collapsed forward, resting my head on his chest, and we both promptly fell asleep.
Jag
I woke with Miri on top of me, my soft cock still lodged inside her warm body. A quick peek at the window and I saw it was still dark, which meant we hadn’t been out long. Careful not to wake my beautiful doll, I rolled Miri to her side and pulled out, feeling cold and immediately missing the incredible, tight heat of her pussy.
Stretching my stiff legs, I rose and padded to the bathroom. After a long piss and a quick wash-up, I braced my hands on the sink. My head ached as I thought about what I was going to tell Miri. She didn’t know El Cuchillo escaped the night I found her. I forbade anyone from letting her know he was still out there, afraid when she found out the man who tortured her was free that she would revert back to how she was when I found her—panicked, nervous to the point of vomiting every day, and scared of her own shadow. My doll was doing so well with her recovery, she did a little minor maintenance on one of the bikes the other day. Not much, but a good sign. I was worried the knowledge of Cuchillo’s escape would send her spiraling back into depression.
“Christ,” I muttered, rubbing at my forehead.
It was too much to think about and fuck, I was just too goddamn tired and pissed to deal with the subject of El Cuchillo. It would have to wait until the morning. Right now, I was in the middle of the horrifically complicated process of transferring all my property to Brick as payment for rescuing Miri. That was the deal. Brick would take over my Austin operations and I was effectively retiring. Only Shade and Milo knew the details. Shade was dead. The rest of my men didn’t know, but Brick would keep them on as his employees. That was something I insisted upon when we negotiated.
Brick got the territory and I got my house and my money. Everything else would belong to the Houston drug lord. It was merely a matter of making everything legal, which, considering all the various shell companies we both used, was a massive pain in the ass. Hours upon hours of boring legal bullshit when what I really wanted to do was hunt down El Cuchillo and kill him slowly and painfully for what he did to Miri. I would take great pleasure in tearing him apart piece by piece for taking what was mine. The rage I had suppressed, surged to the surface, and my vision turned red. I ground my teeth together to try and get myself under control. My fingers ached and I noticed I was gripping the edge of the sink hard enough to turn my knuckles white.
“Fuck.” I pushed back, shook out my hands, and headed for the bedroom. Agitation and anger clawed at my insides. There was absolutely no chance I was falling back asleep at this point, but I didn’t want to leave Miri. Instead of going to my gym to beat the shit out of the heavy bag, I slid under the covers and pulled my doll close, tucking her small body into my side with her cheek resting on my chest.
I kissed the top her head and buried my nose in her thick hair. Thank God I got her back. The depth of my love for Miri and my need to protect her both scared me to death and thrilled me at the same time. I didn’t want to pull her into my world, but it was too late for that. Fuck, what happened with Los Guerreros was a perfect example of why I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Miri in the first place. My selfishness put her right in Cuchillo’s sights.
While my broken doll slept at my side, I thought of all the different ways I was going to make El Cuchillo pay for what he did. Gruesome thoughts flicked through my brain, one after another, each one worse than the previous.
Hours later, when Miri woke, adorable and sleepy, I couldn’t hide the wide grin that spread across my face. I had figured out my plan and yes, El Cuchillo would regret the day he fucked with me.
* * *
“He can’t have just disappeared!” I paced the length of my office, Milo watching calmly from the far corner.
Nothing made sense. El Cuchillo up and fucking vanished from his compound during our raid and no one could find even the hint of his trail.
“We checked all the airports and Sammy even hacked into the nearest border cams, Boss.”
I glared at Milo, daring him to continue speaking. He turned red, but wisely held his tongue. Thank fuck for minor miracles.
“He left with nothing. No way was he prepared for us to show up and storm his house.” I clenched and unclenched my hands, itching for violence. “I want Sammy and George here in the next hour.” My gaze bored into Milo. “Got it?”
Milo’s mouth was pressed into a tight line. The skin around his lips blanched. “Yes, Boss.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out of the study. When the door hissed shut, I removed my phone from my jacket and dialed.
“Hey. I need you to do something for me and it has to be kept between us.”
I explained what I needed and my employee said he would get right on it. After hanging up, I stuffed the device back into my pocket and stared out the back window. Every muscle in my body was pulled taut as my mind went over the different scenarios again and again. Each time I came to the same conclusion.
