by Knight, JJ
She holds out her hand. When I take it, she guides me to sit beside her on the bed. Then she slides behind me, her hands caressing my shoulders. Her fingers wrap around my neck, as if she'd like to choke me.
Maybe there is a bit of sadist in her.
Something tickles deep in my ribs. I like this girl. I like the challenge she presents. She stirs me like no one else has since a night long ago, now a distant memory, and not just as a woman. As a professional. I could keep myself sharp around her. Up my game. We could be an alliance like no other.
I'm about to present exactly this scenario to her, when I feel something sliding along my wrists.
She shifts on the bed and stands in front of me. She wears only the bra now, no panties.
I flush hot for her to the point of pain. "Preparing yourself?"
She cannot hide the subtle smile. "Perhaps," she says. She unzips my fly. I am rock hard for her. "Is this for me?"
“If it interests you.”
“Perhaps,” she says again.
Oh, she’s saucy. I’m about to reach around to slip fingers inside that newly exposed pussy.
But I realize something critical.
I can't.
My wrists are bound together behind me.
I twist and glance down. The black panties. They are not lace at all, but something strong and wiry. I run through my usual moves to be able to free my hands from bondage. No go.
"Well done," I say.
"What was that you were saying about not wanting to take advantage of me as your prisoner?" She unfastens my belt and slides it slowly from the loops.
“I try to be a man of honor.”
“Hmmmm,” she says. “Sadly, I don't think I'm going to return the favor."
She forms a loop with the belt and whips it through the air. It makes a sharp snap. It’s a most promising sound.
"What was it you said last time?" She unfastens my waistband and opens the fly wide. "Please yourself just until orgasm?"
"I believe those were the instructions."
She wraps her hands around my turgid cock, and I have to hold back the groan.
"Luckily, on a man, I can force the issue." She takes my perfectly tooled, Italian leather belt, supple and flexible, and wraps it around the base of my cock. She takes her measurement, then uses the point of the clasp to poke a new hole that just fits the circumference needed.
She wraps it around my raging erection again, this time fastening it down until she is certain it is sufficiently snug.
"I would ask you if you like this, but honestly, I don't give a shit.” She climbs onto my lap, just hovering over the tip of my cock.
I let out a long exhale. This is torture, the best kind.
She removes her bra. One breast, and then the other, press into my face for attention. I give it to her, taking each nipple in my mouth.
“Yes,” she says. “My way.”
She pushes me onto my back, forcing me to arch over my bound wrists. I do not complain.
She slides up on the bed until that warm wet pussy greets my mouth.
“Right there,” she says.
I give her a long, hard lick, and she shifts over me, pressing me where she wants my tongue to go. I’m just a machine to her now, as she makes all the moves, up and down and forward and back.
Her breathing increases, and I work her harder, feeling the muscles tightening around my face. I’m worn out, and it’s difficult to breathe, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
She shudders above me, her thighs pressed against my cheeks. She holds still, letting out a long guttural moan.
I lick her more gently, waiting to see what direction she’ll go next.
She rests a moment, braced on her forearms. I tilt my chin and see her glorious breasts hovering over the bed.
I keep working on the bindings, but it isn’t easy to figure them out while she crushes me on the bed.
She lifts then, sliding back down, leaving a wet trail on my chest and belly. She nips her way along my body, her hands running along my chest and the length of my abs.
She returns to my cock, locked down by the belt and fully engorged. She shifts back to examine it. Her hands grasp it tightly, squeezing it to the end. The skin is tight over the swelling.
Her attention is painful but good. She leans down, sliding my cock between her breasts. She moves up and down, working it with tender softness.
I find my control attempting to slip away, but it is all for naught, because she has bound me perfectly and well. For the moment I forget about the bindings, letting the pleasure of her working me blend with the discomfort of the position.
I do not know her game or where she intends to take this. I find I do not particularly care. If this is how I go, I will enjoy it to the fullest. There are worse ways to be dispatched than by a beautiful naked woman who has outsmarted you.
She is a vision, the blond pixie hair, the enormous eyelashes, pert nose, and that body. Her hands cup both breasts, ensuring a snug fit for my cock as she eases it up and down between them.
She slides down. Her lips close over the end of my cock, and I suck in a breath. The pleasure pounds through my body like an electrical current.
She swallows me whole.
I am ready to die.
22
Jade
I have no idea what I'm doing.
My intent was to get naked enough that I could get these crazy panties around his wrists without doing something bizarre like randomly stripping.
I should've taken my opportunity to get the hell out of here as soon as I put them on his wrists. But I didn’t. In fact, not only have I not left, I am naked again, with his cock in my mouth.
What the hell is happening to me? This man is the most ridiculous, infuriating asshole of a man.
But somehow, I want him.
God, he doesn't even know who I really am. And what will he think when he learns? I can't tell anybody what is happening. This goes straight to the top of two very large crime rings.
But I can't help it. I want this. And I want him.
His erection is so swollen, he has got to be on fire.
I lift my eyes to look at him. He's watching me, a strange mixture of ecstasy and surprise on his face. I know what he's thinking. Stupidly perfect sexual fit.
I always knew we would be. He just hasn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together yet.
I slide my mouth off him with aching slowness. His erection is practically feverish, so purple-red and hot, bound at the base.
I stand up and step about a foot away.
His jaw gets tight. I can imagine what he's thinking. That I will leave him here, tied at the wrists, his own belt around the base of his cock. This does not sound like a very good way to die, and I'm not completely sure I want to do that to him.
Actually, I know what I want. I straddle him, both knees up on the bed. As I lower down onto his lap, he slides into me with silky smoothness.
The pleasure flows through me. Twenty lovers, at least, and he would have to be the one. Jacob Holt. Misogynistic first-rank in Antony's Den. The enemy. The competition.
But he was always the one. Before I knew how terrible he was, how perfectly awful.
And now, I do know, and I still can’t let go of him. The fantasy crashes against the reality. The past and the present. Of course I would have chosen him as my target. How could I have picked anyone else?
I slide back up, then come crashing back down. Jacob doesn't know it, but I have controlled every part of this entire act. From the arrival at his door a week ago to now.
Probably, I control whether he lives or dies. Maybe not in this bunker. But outside of it.
I just knew I’d met him once before, a long time ago, and I could never forget him.
And I hated the man he became. Arrogant, woman-hating jerk.
Yet here I was. I work him up and down, every emotion coursing through me. Pleasure, regret, and tender emotions that I do not wish to even acknowledge.
As much relief as I felt that he did not recognize me when I showed up at his door, now I despair. I had been forgotten.
My hands grip his shoulders. His face is tight. I don't know what it feels like for him, but it must be the worst sort of combination of ecstasy and agony.
I reach between my thighs and tug at the belt. It loosens, and I toss it away. Jacob does more than groan. He growls, a feral sound that grows in volume until it's a roar.
His hands are still bound, but he manages to thrust up inside me, giving as much as I am.
I force myself down, meeting him as he rises up, until we crash against each other. I can barely catch my breath, and my heart beats so hard it feels like it might explode.
"Jade," he breathes.
"I know."
I slam down on him one more time, and the collision causes everything to break free. I cry out, a high sound next to his low, heavy growl. As the orgasm radiates through my body, he releases into me. It's explosive and warm. I hang onto his body fiercely, feeling lightheaded, as if all the oxygen in the room is taken up by the fire where we connect.
His breathing is heavy and ragged. We stay there a moment, on the brink of falling off the edge of the world. The tightness in my chest loosens just enough for me to take a deep breath. I slide off him and collapse on the bed.
What have I done? What will I do with him? How will I let him go?
I want to escape, to run, to hide, just to get away. But the feelings are inside me. They're not him. I can't run away from what's inside my head.
I roll onto my belly and bury my face in a pillow. I have to get back on track. So many people are counting on me.
"Jade? Are you okay?" Jacob's voice is low and easy, and I can tell he's gathered his breath back as well.
I gather all my reserves and put them in my voice, so that I can sound as put together as him.
"I'm fine," I say. "Just tired. It's probably late, right?"
"Probably. Unless I made you dinner for breakfast."
I smile into the pillow. I can't let him see that.
I venture a peek at him. He sits on the edge of the bed, his hands still behind his back. "I assume you know how to get me out of these," he says.
"They’re permanent." Then I chide myself. Why am I joking with this man?
“Figures,” he says. “I’ve probably earned it.”
I force myself to stand up and go for my bra. I put it on. "I'll get you out of them when I’m ready,” I say.
I glance around for my panties, then I remember where they are.
He notices and laughs. "I take it you don't use these often."
"First time."
He stands up, and I watch him suspiciously. His pants fall down to his ankles, and I have to laugh.
"Can a guy get a little help?"
I kneel down and pick up his pant legs. I fit them around his waist, arranging his boxers as well. When he is zipped and fastened, he says quietly, “Thank you. That would've been hard to explain to my butler."
He sits down on the bed. "Now what? I assume you’ve figured your way out of here?"
The thing is, I don't have a clue. And Jacob can walk around. Which means he could probably press buttons and cause all sorts of mayhem. Call for backup. Gas me again.
I sit down next to him. "I think we may be at a stalemate," I say.
"How so?" he asks. "You've got me bound in a way I can’t seem to escape from. You’ve successfully broken into one of my bunkers. I'm sure you can get out."
"I feel like I need to knock you out or something," I say. “This place is booby-trapped all to hell."
"It is. I'm sure someone as skilled as yourself will find your way through." He lies back on the bed. "You're right. It's late. I think I'll take a nap while you find your way out."
I stare at him. "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack."
I walk away, back into the living room to fetch my clothes. I slide on the leggings and pull on the turtleneck. I gather my sweater around me. I could drug him, but if I get seriously sidetracked by traps, it might be best to keep him awake.
Crap. I have to think. But my mind feels so cluttered by his nearness and my tangled thoughts about him. I head back to the bedroom. He still lies on the bed.
"All right, Jacob. Let's make a deal."
23
Jacob
I'm not sure if I am more surprised or disappointed in Jade. She wants to make a deal? Now?
She sits next to me on the bed, and I admit to be being more than a little distracted by the knowledge that she is not wearing panties.
I've never been the person who was bound in a sexual encounter. I'm still trying to settle in after this new and strange development.
"Surely a head such as yours can find its way out of here,” I say. “The exit from the motel room was probably the hardest part."
She looks around. "I know. But I’ll tell you straight up that when I took the swords, I did not have a clue that they were so valuable." A lock of blond hair falls against her cheek, and she seems annoyed as she tucks it behind her ear.
“So what’s your proposition?"
"I've done what I need to do," she says. Tiny white teeth bite her lower lip. She's not controlling her expression with me. Interesting. "I see no need to take the swords from you. It would get messy if we involved buyers.”
“Why is that?"
She fiddles with her sweater. Whatever this part of her story involves, she’s not ready to let me in on it. Side jobs or double crosses sometimes occurred within the Den. It would not surprise me that they would use their beautiful young operatives on the front line of the initial infiltration.
Perhaps she needs a little guidance on this matter. Such internal rebellions are not taken lightly by Antony. At best he would evict violators from the Den. At worst he would dispatch them from this earth.
“Can I help you somehow?” I ask. “Are you in over your head?”
She rubs her temples. “No. It’s fine. Is it possible to ask how long I've been gone? It might be an issue if I have an extended absence without checking in."
"Check in with who?" I ask. My hackles go up. What has she gotten involved in? And is it against me?
She shakes her head. She won’t say.
“Do you need my help?”
“No,” she says. “You should stay out of it now.”
“Is that why Antony was following us?"
“I may have started a war."
“What do you mean, a war?”
“It’s…a lot.” She won’t meet my gaze.
"Has Antony tailed you before?"
"No," she says. "At least not openly."
"I will speak to him.”
"Oh, like when you tried calling him from the car?" She stands up and slowly walks the room. "He took your call so quickly then, right?"
"You have to be up front with me about what we’re into if you want my help. Antony is formidable.”
Unease slides through me, resting heavy in my belly. If he’s really going after her, she would have to change her look again. I don't even know where to take her to get her away from Antony's clutches. He’s everywhere.
A light blinks high on the wall. The perimeter warning. I’m not concerned. People have found the dirt road to this bunker before. It’s perfectly concealed. No one will find their way in.
But I need to get to the bottom of her confession.
“Will you tell me what you mean by war?”
She shakes her head. “I need to make contact with my family. Can you at least tell me how long I've been gone?"
Her family? She’s worried about her parents? She stands near me now, her eyes almost level with me despite her standing and me sitting on the bed. I stare into her eyes. This could just be a way to get more information from me. All calculated.
“That will make a difference?” I ask. The perimeter light blinks faster. Someone has approached the shack that conceals the bunker.
I remove
the panty trap. I figured it out while she was dressing. It’s been cute, but it’s time to be done with it.
As we look at each other, I ball the microfibers in my hand and keep my wrists connected so Jade isn’t aware that I’ve defeated them. Something is going on here. Jade needs to let me in on it.
“Yes,” she says. “I need to figure out how worried they are.”
I decide to lie. "Four hours."
"That's all?"
I shrug. "Give or take. I lost track of time since we ate.”
She glances around the room. Her eyes rest on the blinking light, but she does not find it important. “I tell you what. Get me out of here, and I will go straight to your swords. I’ll have them delivered to you. Then we don’t have to deal with each other anymore.”
Hell no. I’m not giving her up. Not when we have no idea what’s outside.
But I don’t say that. I just give her a curt nod.
I have to force aside my urge to toss aside these bonds, shove her back in the room, slam the door, and put a sleeping agent in there. If I really got my way, Jade would be my Goddamn sleeping beauty. I’d wake her up solely at my pleasure.
The storm inside me roils. I can’t just let her walk away.
I toss aside the bonds and grab her arm. She startles. It’s good to know I can take someone like her by surprise.
"You're out," she cries.
"Bondage is an expertise of mine. Yours was quite good. But not good enough." I turn her to face me. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“What?”
“Stay.”
“Here? With you?”
“We can go anywhere.”
Our eyes lock. I see the surprise there, but also the idea taking hold. She wants it. But something is holding her back. Something she won’t say.
“Jade, decide.”
She opens her mouth, but then a wall-jarring crash rocks the room.
Damn. Whoever it is, they’re going to bring down the shack.
“What was that?” she asks.
“We have company.”
Her eyes widen. “Antony?”
“You have other ideas?” The room shakes again.
“Can they get in?”