Rogue

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Rogue Page 18

by Julia Sykes


  Emotion welled within me, making my heart ache with the same pleasure/pain that racked my body. I spiraled off into oblivion, completely overcome by Derek.

  * * * * *

  Derek’s lips planted soft kisses on my cheeks, my forehead, my eyelids. He murmured sweet words of praise against my skin, his voice slightly slurred as though he was drunk. I let out a happy little sigh and tilted my head back, searching for his lips. His kiss was slow, languorous. My mouth opened for him, pliant, willing, giving. He took, devoured, consumed. I tried to lower my hands to wrap my arms around his shoulders, but they were still bound above me. The reminder of my punishment made me moan into his mouth.

  When he finally pulled away from me, soft concern flickered through the contented glow in his eyes.

  “Are you okay? Did I push you too hard?”

  “No,” I breathed. “I needed that. I need you to forgive me. Please.”

  His lips turned down in a small frown. “You don’t have to take pain for me to forgive you. That’s abuse.”

  “It’s not like that,” I insisted. “I needed the pain to forgive myself. And you needed to give it to me to accept my apology. You do accept it, don’t you? You have to see that my submission is real. I never lied to you when we were together like this. I am so sorry.”

  A little furrow persisted between his brows, but his large hand cupped my cheek in a show of tender affection. “Yes, I know this is real. I just… When I found out you had lied to me, I went a little crazy. I haven’t been with a sub since the Kings took my club. I had no right to control a woman when I can’t even control my own life.” His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone. “And then you came into my club, all confused and wound up and angry at the world. I couldn’t resist you. It killed me to think you had just taken what I gave you because you were using me.”

  I was stunned by his raw sincerity, and a pang of guilt shot through me again at the knowledge that I had lied to this man who was never anything but brutally honest. He saw the world for what it was, and he didn’t make excuses for himself. My gut had been right for once; Derek Carter was a good man.

  “I always believed you were innocent, Derek,” I confessed. “I was just scared to admit it to myself. My instincts have gotten a lot of people hurt lately, and I didn’t want to lose objectivity when it came to you. I wanted to gather solid evidence so I could prove you were being coerced. I never wanted them to arrest you.”

  His hand stroked my hair in a soothing motion. “Who got hurt, Sharon?”

  I was struck by a fierce desire to share my anguish with him, to purge it from myself. “Clayton. My partner. He got shot and nearly died. I was supposed to have his back that night, but I let him go out in the open without cover.” My lips quivered, and my chest shook when I drew breath. “Then I made some bad calls that almost got his best friend Claudia and his girlfriend Rose killed. I let him down so many times. I failed.”

  “Hey,” Derek pulled me into his arms. “You’re not Superwoman. You have a dangerous job, and people are going to get hurt. That doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

  With my arms restrained, I had no choice but to accept his comfort. A sob ripped its way up my throat, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. He held me while I cried. Every tear shed a little drop of my guilt and shame, slowly draining them from my soul. Derek caught them, taking the burden on himself, sharing the load with me.

  When my sobs finally quieted to little sniffles, he pulled back from me to look down into my eyes. He gently wiped the wetness from my cheeks and smiled down at me softly.

  “Better?” He asked.

  “Why are you so good to me?” I whispered, almost fearing his answer. “I betrayed you.”

  “No, you didn’t. I see that now. You were trying to help me, and I was a cruel ass. I was hurt, and I lashed out at you. That was wrong of me.”

  Had there ever been a man who so easily owned up to his mistakes? He was playful, fierce, domineering, and good to the core. His lips came down on mine again, imparting his goodness into me. Its warmth purified me, and I felt lighter than I had in months.

  Chapter 16

  “I should fire you for this.” Kennedy’s usual icy disapproval was absent. He positively seethed. I had never seen him so close to the edge of losing his careful control, and I was terrified.

  Swallowing hard, I gathered up my courage. “It won’t change anything if you do,” I declared. “I’m going to help Derek. I’m not going to let the Kings hurt him because you’ve sent him out on his own.”

  My boss’ eyes narrowed. “You can’t help him if I arrest you for collusion.”

  I rushed to my own defense. “I have an in with Jonas now. He expects me to be at Decadence. I’m supposed to help transfer the coke three days from now. It would look suspicious if I disappeared.”

  His fist slammed down on his desk. “You made this plan without consulting me? Do you want to go to jail, Silverman? Because you are practically begging me to lock you up. First, you betray Santiago, and now you’re betraying the entire unit. I will not have my people get hurt because you’re going rogue.”

  “Then don’t make me. Give me back the op. I can do this. I’m in a stronger position than Clayton and Smith could ever be.”

  His glare cut me to the core, but somehow I managed to keep breathing. “What’s your role in the transfer?” He finally asked.

  “I’m supposed to provide backup,” I said quickly. This might be my only chance to convince Kennedy to keep me on. “I proved to Jonas that I can fight. I took Ortiz and Reyes down in front of him. He doesn’t trust the Europeans he’s trading with, so he wants me to be there in case there’s trouble. They won’t expect me to be a threat. Jonas wants the element of surprise on his side.”

  Kennedy’s frown turned from furious to considering, and he folded his arms across his chest. “What is this deal, exactly? And who are the Europeans?”

  “Russian Mafia. I suspect they’re expanding their markets in the States and sending a cut back to Europe. Jonas is pushing the Kings to a higher level than local dealing. He wants to buy the goodwill of the Russians to give him an alliance that will allow him to take over the other tribes of the Kings. Jonas is trading the coke for power and the Russians are accepting for the cash it will bring them.”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened, and he blew out a long breath. “Well, shit.” He watched me for a full minute, his hazel eyes weighing my fate. “Okay, Silverman. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but good work. You’re getting your op back. But I’m sending in Miller, Vaughn, and James every night until then. We have to stop Jonas before he can rally all of the Kings behind him. One of the only advantages we have over the fuckers is that they’re divided. And we don’t need the Russians to become a new power here. We’ll make the bust on the night of the trade. You and Miller will be inside to give the go ahead when it’s time, and Vaughn and James will come in with the NYPD to shut it down.” His gaze turned sharp, penetrating. “You are to report anything new to me. Don’t you dare keep me in the dark again, or I’ll do worse than fire you. Do you understand me?”

  I nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

  To my amazement, his lips quirked up at the corners. “It seems Carter has managed to teach you some manners. You were even more of a pain in my ass when you were so damn prickly. I’ll have to thank him if he survives this.”

  “Of course he will.”

  He had better, or I’ll kill him.

  “Will you tell me why you’re a Dom?” I asked Derek later that evening. “The real reason this time.” When I had asked the question weeks before, he had been evasive, closed off. “I want to be closer to you.” I bit my lip with the admission. I was putting myself out there, but I had already put everything on the line for Derek. Giving him my heart was the natural next step.

  He ground his hips against me. “We’re already pretty damn close.”

  That was true physically, at least. Our naked bodies were entwined on th
e bed in his apartment. We had spent hours in each other’s arms. I needed it after my tense confrontation with Kennedy. All that defiance had left me wrung out and weary, and the release I found with Derek was sweeter than I could have imagined.

  I peeked up at him through my lashes. “Please. Talk to me. I’m still having trouble coming to terms with my submission. When I’m with you, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, but then I go to work and I don’t understand how I can be submissive when I need to be so strong all the time.”

  Derek propped himself up on one elbow and absently ran his free hand up and down my side. “That’s why you crave submission, Sharon,” he told me earnestly. “You put so much pressure on yourself all the time. Your job involves facing life or death situations, and you allow the outcomes of those situations to weigh heavily on you.” He brushed my hair back from my forehead. “Why is it you feel that so deeply? Why are you so afraid of feeling like a failure?”

  Just like that, he cut right to the core of me. I had asked him for honesty, but I owed some to him as well. And to myself.

  “I guess…” I began. “I guess it’s because of my relationship with my father. My parents couldn’t conceive, so they adopted me. For a while, I wondered if my father couldn’t love me because of my skin color. My adoptive parents are white,” I explained. “But then I slowly realized that wasn’t right. I remembered that my father loved me before… Before the accident.” Tears swam in my eyes, but I blinked them back. “My parents ended up having a biological son. He was born when I was six. They loved us equally, and I never resented him. Then…”

  Here came the hard part. I swallowed back my grief, determined to share this part of myself with Derek. “When I was eleven, we were in a car crash; my mom, Thomas, and me. I survived, they didn’t. My father kind of checked out after that. He wasn’t cruel. He just… wasn’t fully there. I worked so hard to make him proud of me, to earn his affection back. I thought if I just succeeded, if I was good enough, he might love me again.”

  I swiped at the wetness on my cheeks and gave a shaky laugh to cover my rush of emotion. “God, I sound like I have daddy issues.”

  “It’s okay,” Derek assured me. “I have them, too.”

  My eyes widened. “What?” Again, I was struck by his unflinching honesty. Derek had completely accepted every facet of himself, even the uglier parts.

  He chuckled, recognizing my shock. “I told you; the most important aspect of D/s is honesty. That means honesty with yourself as well as your partner. It took me years to fully accept myself, but BDSM helped me do that. I was perfectly content with my life until my father came back into it.”

  His lips twisted in distaste. “I owe you some honesty as well,” he admitted. “I wasn’t always innocent of crime. When I was fifteen, I started dealing for the Westies. I hated my father and I hated the gang, but I knew I needed money to escape. My mother had run out on my father when I was a toddler, so all I knew was Jonas’ way of life. I saved every dollar I could skim off the top without him noticing. By the time I was eighteen, I had a nice little pile of money.

  “But I came to hate that money, too. I had thought I was taking control of my life by earning it, but I realized I had allowed my father’s lifestyle to shape my own. That’s when I joined the Marines. I earned a sense of personal pride, of accomplishment. I felt secure in my own power. One of my buddies told me about the BDSM lifestyle, and I started exploring. By the time I was honorably discharged, I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

  “I took all the money I had earned and invested and used it to buy Decadence, my own personal paradise and huge ‘fuck you’ to my father.”

  His satisfied smile turned to something more predatory as his gaze slipped from his past to focus on me again. “Have I ever told you why I named my club Decadence?”

  The gleam in his eye made my mouth go dry, and I shook my head weakly.

  His grin sharpened. “I’m a hedonist, Sharon. I like to sample beautiful things.” He lowered his head, and his tongue traced the shell of my ear before biting my lobe sharply. I gasped as the little pain awoke an answering flare in my nipples and clit. “I like owning beautiful things.” His whisper snaked into me, coiling around my mind, binding my thoughts to him.

  “Stay. And close your eyes.” He reinforced his order with another nip of my ear. I shivered and stilled, my body instantly giving in to his command.

  The mattress shifted as his weight left the bed, and his footsteps away from me were muffled by the plush carpet. I heard him rummaging in a drawer, and my stomach flipped. He always found the most cruel, kinky implements in his drawers.

  “Okay. Open your eyes and come over here.” My eyes fluttered open, but I hesitated in the wake of his hungry gaze. He was gloriously naked, and his cock was clearly pleased with whatever he had planned for me. “Come,” he insisted more sharply.

  Warily, I got to my feet and crossed the short space that separated us. Once I was within two feet of him, he began to move. I froze for a heartbeat as he started to circle me like the predator he was. Then I pivoted, keeping my eyes fixed on him. Instinct gathered deep within me, and I dropped into a defensive stance.

  “We never got to finish playing out your little fantasy.” His voice was low and rough, and his cock jerked. “I believe you wanted me to take you down, Agent Silverman.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “That was your fantasy,” I protested. My stomach knotted with nerves. This was coming too close to my other self, the part of me that wasn’t Derek’s submissive. He wanted to subjugate the professional, powerful side of me.

  “Yes, Sharon,” he confirmed the question in my eyes. “I want to own all of you. I want everything. Let it all go. Let me take it.”

  Release. He was offering me total, absolute release.

  My muscles coiled, and a small smile curled my lips. “You want to take me down, Carter? You can try.”

  He moved almost faster than my eyes could follow, and I managed to dart out of the grasp of his corded arms only just in time. I couldn’t beat his strength, but I was fast. Besides, I wasn’t actually trying to hurt Derek, just as he would never truly hurt me. I was destined to lose this fight, but I would be sure to give him hell for as long as possible.

  We circled one another again. I watched his core rather than his face, waiting for the flex of his muscles to give him away. This time, I danced away from his lunge with ease. He laughed out his pleasure.

  When he came for me again, I ducked and tripped him. He went sprawling, and I moved to straddle his back and get him in a head lock.

  Before I could reach him, he flipped onto his front. He was on me in an instant. My fingers shot out, and my nails raked across his chest before he could stop me.

  His arms caged me in, turning my body so that my breasts pressed against the soft carpet. I struggled, but he grasped my wrists, holding them at the small of my back with one hand.

  “It seems my little FBI agent has claws. Do you want to be my pet, kitten?”

  Cold metal clicked closed around my wrists, and I realized too late that he had maneuvered me exactly where he wanted me; he had taken me down just beside where he had set the handcuffs he had retrieved before our fight.

  There was something else laying there where the cuffs had rested, and my eyes widened. My head began to shake, but his fist closed in my curls, forcing it to stillness.

  “My pretty pet needs a collar. That way she knows she belongs to me.”

  The thin band of black leather was soft and cool against my neck. It tightened as Derek swiftly buckled it closed. I looked up at him almost fearfully. I was vulnerable, bound, collared. Owned.

  His eyes burned into my soul with a possessive fire. His fingers traced the line of the collar, and I shuddered under the feather-light touch.

  “Mine.” The word was triumphant, satisfied, tender. I melted beneath him with a little whimper, submitting. He stroked my hair in reward. “You’re going to be my good li
ttle pet, aren’t you, kitten?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The words were a shuddering surrender.

  His hands closed around my shoulders, pulling me upright until I rested back on my heels. He held me for a moment to steady me, then moved around in front of me.

  He remained on his knees as well, but he was so tall that his cock bobbed in front of my face. I knew what he wanted, and I was all too eager to give it to him. I wanted to please him, to pleasure him.

  With my hands bound behind my back, I had no choice but to use my mouth. Dipping my head, my tongue firmly touched the underside of his cock, licking up the length of it to tickle at the base of the head. He hissed in a sharp breath when I tasted the salty drop of precum at the tip.

  “That’s good, kitten. Lap me up.”

  I swirled my tongue around him and I took him in, moving my head back and forth in a steady rhythm. When he touched the back of my throat, I swallowed him down with practiced ease.

  “Fuck.” His guttural groan made heat flare low in my belly.

  His fingers twined in my hair on either side of my head, and he took full control. He held me where he wanted me as he moved in and out of my mouth. Fear struck me for a moment at the sense of utter powerlessness, and I whined around him in distress.

  “Take it,” he growled. “Take all of me. I know you can.”

  The raw pleasure in his voice calmed me. I relaxed into my bonds, into his power, and swallowed him down.

  He gave a low curse and withdrew fully. “I want to come in my pussy.”

  Suddenly, he was behind me again. His hand pressed between my shoulder blades, pushing me down until my torso was parallel to the floor. He held me in place with a strong grip on my upper arms, keeping me hovering just above the carpet, with my ass offered up to him.

 

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