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Dean turned toward me, his left hip against the sink, his torso twisting at the waist until his face was just a few inches from mine. His hand cupped my breast through the sheet. "Not really, but tell me what you like and I’ll make sure I am."
"I like to use the restroom alone."
Scowling at him, I fought to keep the quiver from my lips. He was thumbing the nipple through the fabric, bringing it to a sharp peak as the other nipple slowly hardened with envy.
"Not going to happen, baby." He pressed his palm against my chest, his mouth closing in on mine as he forced me back against the tank. Stripping the sheet away, his hand skated down my stomach. "Maybe you just need a little massage to get you started."
I blinked. Two of his fingers found my clit. My hands rose to clutch at his shoulders. He kissed me, his tongue slowly sweeping into my mouth as his fingers started a gentle dance, one of them finding the small pearl tucked under the hood of my clit and circling it.
"Or if I kissed you again, down there, took that swollen little bud between my lips and?—"
A shudder rolled through me, leaving my body in a jagged moan.
"So close already, Garnet?" His hips angled in my direction, Dean unzipped his jeans and guide my hand to his erection.
My fingers curled around his thick shaft as his tongue pillaged my mouth.
Was I really doing this? Had I become so depraved or desperate that I was stroking my captor's cock while I eagerly allowed him to play with my pussy?
"This isn’t me," I whispered, fresh tears wetting my cheeks.
"No, baby girl—it’s us." He removed my hand from his cock, kissing and sucking at my fingers as his own increased their tempo against my clit.
The tips curled down to tease my hole, taking shallow dips before running a trail of my cream back up the spine of my sex. Rubbing—hard, soft, a pinch—and then plunging inside me, two fingers wide all the way to the base knuckles as I came, shattering and calling his name, a name that was supposed to mean nothing to me, but suddenly did.
CHAPTER 6
GARNET
Night came. Leaving my hands unbound, Dean tied the sash around our waists, both of us naked on the narrow bed despite my protests. The experience was surreal—not just sleeping so closely next to the man who had taken me hostage, but sleeping next to a man at all. I’d had sex, but no lovers, no waking up in the morning to the heat of a man, his eyes glowing with warm affection. That I might find it here, in this room, in this bed with a man who was maybe a criminal or maybe some kind of cop was beyond wrong. It was a cosmic slap in the face.
Cop or criminal, this would end badly, even if I made it out alive and relatively unharmed. If he was just another thug, I would be crushed. My self-esteem would be in tatters, and I would forever triple guess my judgment with each man I encountered in future. If he was a cop, I would still be crushed. How could I even look him in the eye, knowing he did what he had to do, but that I let him touch me by choice, that my pussy had been aching and eager and wanted so much more than his mouth and hands.
I started shaking.
"Try to relax, Garnet." Dean smoothed his hand up and down my arm. His body spooned mine, my back tucked against his broad chest, his thick, muscled thigh draped over my softer, plumper leg.
When my shaking wouldn't stop, he nestled closer until the full cheeks of my bottom cradled his erect cock. He’d been rigid like that at least half an hour, his length smooth but unyielding. The slightest shift of his body or mine caused his shaft to rub against me.
Trying not to think about his close and ready cock, I directed my thoughts toward the loaded pistol on the nightstand behind him.
"Do you always sleep with a gun next to you?"
I couldn't figure him out. Even with my brief exposure to Condor and Dimebag, I knew Dean was different than them, better. He wasn’t slack-jawed and slouching. He carried himself like a soldier, and not like some sort of street soldier but a man with real military training. That was part of why I didn't want to think he was a criminal, part of why I wanted to trust him. My brain still told me I couldn’t.
"Usually it’s on the mattress." His hand moved up to massage my shoulder as I grew tenser at the thought of a gun in bed. "Rough world, baby."
"One you live in by choice." I turned my face into the pillow, trying to focus on just breathing so I could blot out my feelings. He shifted his hips, the friction as his cock slid against me igniting a fire low in my gut.
"Untie me."
"If I untie you, it will be to fuck you."
Uncertain of what I wanted, I shrank from him. Growling, Dean reached along my stomach, found the sash's knot and tugged at it. When it came undone, he rolled me onto my back and covered my body with his larger frame. His knee pressed between my thighs, forcing them apart.
Heat mingled with a cold panic inside me. My nails dug into his arms. I wanted to both push him away and hug him close. My hips lifted in an invitation even as I tried to push him back with words.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
