Slave of Duty

by Tawny Taylor

  It would feel even better against his inner thigh.

  A twinge of carnal heat ricocheted through his body. Ben moistened his lips while his gaze wandered over Matt’s stunning face. This was the face that had haunted him for three years. All this time he’d thought he’d known what he wanted from Matt—to see Matt go to his knees, submit to him. Surrender. That was all. That would be enough.

  He was wrong. So fucking wrong.

  He wished he could commit every little detail of Matt’s face to memory, the mole on Matt’s cheek, the flecks of dark blue-black in his eyes, the curve of his upper lip. “Didn’t you wonder why I’d sent Jenn home?” Ben felt his mouth curling at the corners, pulling into a smile.

  “Sure…”

  “I didn’t need her anymore.” As much as he wanted this—whatever was about to happen—Ben was petrified. He was out of his element here, his comfort zone. He wanted to cling to the power, exercise control, but this thing between them was beyond his control. Like a force of nature. As wild and untamed and raw as the forest around them.

  “Aren’t you leaving too?”

  “No.” He slipped off the rock to stand. He crossed his arms over his chest then uncrossed them.

  “But—”

  “I keep my word. Always.”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed. His gaze sharpened. “So that’s all? You’re staying because you said you would, even though I said you could leave?”

  “Yes, that’s part of it.”

  “What about your bodyguard? Why’d you send her home? Not that she’s much of a bodyguard anyway.”

  “Because she didn’t need to be here. She had other, more important matters to attend to.” Ben could hear the defensiveness in his voice, clear as day. Matt was rattling him. This situation was rattling him. “And as far as her abilities as a bodyguard go, she’s not what you think. Sometimes what you see is deceiving.” Twisting, he started back down the path toward the cozy little cabin, back to a setting he hoped he could control more. “It’s getting cold.”

  A shirt settled over his shoulders. It smelled like man and forest. Like Matt. Matt fell into step beside him, pushing branches hanging across the path out of their way as they walked, silent, tense. Whenever Matt moved closer, Ben’s skin tingled. The little hairs on his arms and neck stood on end. His nerves prickled.

  Ben knew exactly what was going to happen once they were in the cabin. They were going to fuck. It was against his rules. It was against his better judgment.

  But it was what they both wanted. Needed.

  With every footstep their pace sped up ever so slightly, until they were running and he was breathless, dodging low-hanging branches and weaving around fallen logs. Out of the blue Matt caught his wrist, pulled, forcing him around to face him. Matt’s eyes searched his. The air left his lungs. A strange little sound slipped between his lips, one part sigh, one part moan. Matt cupped the back of his head but didn’t kiss him right away. Instead he just held him there like that, cradling Ben’s head, his gaze locked to Ben’s. The air between them became super-heated, charged with electricity.

  Kiss me. Hard.

  “Command me, Master Stahl,” Matt whispered, sounding as winded as Ben felt. “I can’t do anything. Not until you say the words.”

  “It’s Ben. My name. Kiss me, Matt.”

  “Thank you, Ben.”

  Ben’s toes curled when Matt’s lips claimed his. Matt’s tongue pressed at the seam of his mouth and the instant he parted his lips, it slipped inside to explore, stroke, invade. “Dammit. I didn’t come here for this. But you—” Ben shoved Matt back until he was against a tree. Then he charged forward. He crushed Matt’s mouth under his, pressed his body to Matt’s, kicked Matt’s feet apart and shoved a thigh between Matt’s. As his tongue surged into Matt’s mouth, Ben rocked his hips forward. The rigid length of his erection ground against the sharp line of Matt’s hipbone. One hand curled into a fist around a handful of silky hair. The other cupped the hard bulge pressing against Matt’s trousers. The realization that he’d soon hold that thick hardness in his hands, feel it gliding in and out of his ass, made him burn hotter.

  The kiss turned fierce, almost violent.

  Matt jerked back and gazed into Ben’s eyes, his pupils so dilated there was very little iris left. “Command me, Ben.”

  “Touch me,” Ben said, his voice wavering and unsteady. “All of me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ben found himself being shoved backward until his butt hit something hard. His head struck it next, but he didn’t give a damn. In fact, as he became trapped between one tall, immobile surface—a tree?—and a strong, rigid man, an unexpected thrill surged through him.

  Driven by the sensual energy pulsing through him like little bolts of lightning, Ben returned every stab and stroke of Matt’s tongue, every squeeze and claw of his hands. His clothes were more or less torn from his body. Matt’s clothing was ripped from his.

  Ben’s palm chafed a nipple and Matt quivered, moaning into their joined mouths. Matt broke the kiss to trail a meandering line of nips across his cheek, below his ear, down his neck to his collarbone. Ben clamped his eyelids closed and dug his fingertips into Matt’s shoulders as they gradually moved lower.

  Matt nibbled, licked and nipped, down both sides of his rib cage, to his bellybutton. Matt’s tongue dipped into the shallow indentation, and the intimate touch sent yet another wave of heat blasting through Ben’s body.

  “Touch me. Everywhere. Do it,” Ben said.

  “Thank you.” Matt continued his journey south, paying plenty of attention to Ben’s lower stomach—too much. His stubbled chin scratched Ben’s sensitive skin, adding yet another sensation to the intoxicating mix. Sounds of nature, blended with the smack of Matt’s lips and his own soft sighs created a sensual symphony. The scents of earth, plants and man teased his nostrils with every deep breath. The feel of the tree’s scratchy bark abrading his back, the tormenting touch of Matt’s mouth, the grazing of his teeth and the possession of his hands made Ben tremble from head to toe.

  Matt’s tongue flicked over the sensitive skin at the crease of his inner thigh and Ben’s knees softened. Shifting his weight back, Ben angled his arms, bracing them on Matt’s shoulders.

  Matt stilled and Ben looked down. “Inside the cabin?”

  “Yes.”

  They raced back, both gasping for breath, burning up by the time they stepped into the cool interior.

  “Command me, Ben.” Matt’s eyes mirrored the raw need coursing through Ben’s body. And his voice was rough and tense. He was a man struggling to maintain control, to do as he was commanded, not as he wanted.

  He was a submissive.

  “The bedroom,” Ben said.

  “Thank you.” Matt led the way and within a couple of racing heartbeats, Ben was lying on Matt’s bed, the cotton coverlet a soothing chill against the burning skin on his back. Matt climbed on hands and knees over him, kissing his way up his body this time, instead of down. Matt lavished each of his nipples with plenty of attention, suckling, licking, nipping and biting them until Ben’s back was tight and arched and pulses of heat were rushing from his center out, up his stomach, over his chest.

  Fuck. He was so close to orgasm, closer than he’d been in ages, and he hadn’t flogged Matt. Hadn’t fucked that tight ass with a dildo. Hadn’t even brought him to orgasm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d orgasmed without at least a little power play.

  When Matt moved higher, until his shoulders were level with Ben’s, Ben hooked his fingers, raking them down the smooth satin of Matt’s back. Matt arched his spine. “Fuck, yes.” Matt palmed his cheek, gazed into his eyes, moved his mouth to say something then stopped, leaving him to wonder what Matt had wanted to say. But when Matt’s lips found his again, all thought left his mind, and he was once again floating in a cloud of sensation. With Matt’s lips brushing over his, Matt’s tongue slipping into his mouth only to retreat a second later, and their erections grindin
g against each other’s hips, Ben could do nothing but let the pleasure carry him away.

  He needed a cock inside, filling him, stroking him. Now. This time he didn’t wait for Matt to ask for his command, he told him, “Fuck me.”

  Matt extended his arms, lifting his upper body off Ben’s. Matt’s gaze searched his. Matt’s face was flushed a deep scarlet. The color stained his neck, his chest. He knew how to spot a man on the verge of losing control. Matt was as close to snapping as he could be. And still, Matt had stopped. Over his labored breathing, Matt said, “This is against the most important rule in your book. Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Condom?” Ben wrapped a fist around Matt’s cock, gave it a firm pump.

  “Oh fuck,” Matt said on a groan. “I have some.” Matt grimaced. “But not because I was expecting you to…because…”

  “Fuck that right now. No talk. Just go.”

  Matt nodded, shot to his feet, hurried to the dresser and rummaged through a drawer. He returned with a handful of cellophane-wrapped rubbers and a tube of lubricant, tossed them on the bed and walked on his knees to Ben’s side.

  Ben looked at Matt’s thick cock and knew he needed to break another rule.

  Because he always took a thorough medical history on new submissives, and confirmed as much of the information as he could, he was confident it was safe.

  Matt had already torn one of the wrappers open and was pulling the lubricated rubber out. But Ben shot up, catching Matt by surprise and knocking him onto his back. Before Matt could fight his way back up, he bent over Matt’s cock and swirled his tongue around the swollen head.

  Delicious.

  “Ohhhh,” Matt groaned.

  Ben echoed that sentiment right before he relaxed his throat and took Matt’s cock to the hilt.

  Matt tensed, which emphasized every single sculpted plane of his body. Ben clawed at the skin of Matt’s thighs as he fucked him with his mouth, enjoying every moment, every little growl and groan, every inhalation of Matt’s scent. But his pleasure was cut short when Matt, to his surprise, reared up and threw him off.

  “Dammit, you’re going to make me come before my Master,” Matt said, curling his fists in Ben’s hair. “What kind of submissive would I be if I did that?”

  Ben’s cock jumped at the feral glint in Matt’s eyes. “You taste too fucking good. I don’t want to stop.” Ben licked his lips, savoring Matt’s lingering flavor.

  “Hmmm. At least let me have a taste too.” Matt reached for Ben’s cock but Ben knocked his hand away. Matt’s teeth visibly gritted. “What’re you going to make me do, beg?”

  Something inside Ben snapped. He surged up then threw himself on top of Matt before Matt had a chance to recover. Lying over top of Matt, breathless and dizzy with carnal need, he grabbed hold of Matt’s hair to hold his head still. He angled lower, until their mouths almost touched, and whispered, “I didn’t want to want you this much.”

  “Me neither.”

  Ben brushed his mouth over Matt’s, the touch featherlight. “I didn’t think I wanted you this much.”

  “Me neither.”

  Succumbing to his need, Ben kissed Matt. It was far from a gentle kiss. It was hard and raw. Matt’s hands explored his body, his shoulders, back and finally ass. And when it was over, Ben was trembling and hot and confused. “What the fuck are we doing?”

  Matt’s fingertip plunged between Ben’s ass cheeks. “We’re fucking. Remember, no talk? Just fuck.”

  “You know,” Ben said, “if we do this, you’re mine. Are you sure you want that?”

  Lying beneath Ben, Matt struggled to gather his thoughts. Ben’s eyes were wild, Ben’s body hard and tight and heavy over his. Somehow Matt’s mind registered, despite the fog of overwhelming need, that Ben was giving him one last chance to walk away. It was now or maybe never.

  “You’re a cop,” Ben reminded him.

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “It’s not like you can stroll into the club whenever you want.”

  “Believe me, I know that too.”

  “It’s hard enough if you come out—”

  “I know.” And he did. But for some reason he didn’t give a damn. He’d wanted Ben for three fucking years. That was a long time to want someone. To wonder if it might ever happen. To wish it might. Reaching up, he pulled Ben down into a kiss. And as their tongues tangled, he found Ben’s cock, gave it a squeeze. “Fuck me.”

  Ben groaned into their joined mouths. “Condom.”

  They broke apart, only to sit up and wrap themselves into another embrace. A few magical moments later, they broke apart yet again. This time Ben found the condom but before he had a chance to roll it on, they were embracing, their mouths meeting in a fury of tongues and teeth. When they separated for a third time, they were both breathless, their skin slick with sweat, trembling.

  After putting on the rubber, Ben pushed Matt over onto all fours. A tidal wave of pleasure swept over him as Ben’s cock breached Matt’s opening, gliding all the way in.

  Yes, this was what he had been waiting for. This moment. With this man.

  His balls tightened when Ben’s cock retreated then slammed home a second time.

  “Yes,” Matt said, rocking back and forth in time to Ben’s thrusts. They were long and sure and so fucking right. With every stroke, the need surging through Matt’s veins burned hotter.

  “Stroke your cock. Come for me,” Ben commanded, his voice husky, strained.

  Matt fisted his cock and timed his strokes to Ben’s thrusts. In, out, in, out. Hotter. Tighter. Oh dammit, yes, he was there. He could feel his cum gathering, the pressure building.

  “Now,” Ben roared, slamming into Matt’s ass.

  Matt’s jaw locked as cum blasted down his cock. He growled as his seed spurted from his body and Ben’s swollen cock rammed inside one last time. He knew the moment Ben came. The flared head broadening, amplifying the pleasure-pain. Ben’s thrusts became jerky, frenzied for a few seconds then slowed and finally stopped. When Ben withdrew, they both fell onto the bed, boneless, spent.

  “Goddammit, Matt,” Ben grumbled. “Don’t ever make me regret this.”

  There could be no going back now. Matt knew that more than ever. Not just because he knew what it would do to him, but also what it would do to Ben.

  Chapter Six

  A good Dom is going to be one hundred percent focused on the needs of his submissive. Always. And any submissive who’s had some training will know that. You haven’t. But you will.

  Sometimes what you see is deceiving.

  Matt jerked upright, suddenly wide awake. “Holy hell, I was wrong.”

  “About what?” Ben’s voice was rough with sleep. They’d dozed off together awhile ago. How long had it been?

  Matt checked the clock. “Fuck. It’s after three.”

  “That’s okay. In case you didn’t realize it, we’ve thrown the original contract out the window when—”

  “No, no. I realize that.” He set his hand on Ben’s thigh. “I have to get back.”

  “Why?” Ben yawned, stretched his thick arms over his head. It was a damn fine sight, but one Matt couldn’t be distracted by at the moment.

  Propelling himself out of bed, he mentally ran through his list of suspects. All of them were experienced Doms. “I think I know who’s killing those men. At least, I know who isn’t.”

  “Yeah?” Ben moved slower, levering himself up. “Who?”

  “Can’t say anything yet, in case I’m wrong.” After pulling a t-shirt over his head, he kissed Ben. “Sorry about running—”

  “No problem. I knew it would be like this. Loving a cop isn’t easy.” He smiled, winked. Loving. Was he teasing? Or not? “I guess I’d better get my ass up too.”

  “No. Stay. As long as you like.” While jumping into a pair of jeans, Matt scanned the room for his key ring. Found it. On the dresser. Barefooted, he rushed to it, pulled a key for the front door off and dropped it into Ben’s upturned palm. “You can go,
stay, do whatever you want.” After one final kiss, Matt ran toward the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  During the drive back to town, he ran through every crime scene, rethinking every assumption he’d made. The killer’s gender. The killer’s motive. The victimology.

  Criminal Profiling 101 taught him that violent offenders, like this killer, were generally male. White. Young. The victims, strangers. And the motive was tied to the dominance the killer had over his victim. But what if his assumption of the killer’s gender was wrong? What if it was a female, and her motive wasn’t to feed a psychopathic need for dominance, but something else? And what if the victims weren’t strangers?

  What if…?

  What if he was wrong?

  He knew the answer to that question. It could mean the end of his career.

  Gotta make sure.

  In his head, he shuffled all the pieces around, trying different scenarios. No matter how hard he pushed, there was only one way they fit. And it was nowhere close to what he’d originally thought. Or what he’d originally wanted to believe.

  He checked his clock.

  Perfect.

  He was sure he’d have the killer in custody tonight.

  * * * * *

  Matt checked his gun one last time before knocking. He didn’t expect he’d need it, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

  Row was wearing a t-shirt and shorts when she answered the door. Her long hair was gathered into a ponytail. “Hey, Deaton. What’s up?” She stepped aside, inviting him in.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something personal.”

  “Sure.” She motioned him into her home office, but before she shut the door, a man’s deep bellow had her skittering out of the room. “Be back in a minute.”