The Good Girl In My Bed (Dangerous Desire Book 2)

by Lexxie Couper

  Any hard-on I got for Ronnie was perfect, even one I refused to relieve.

  Not yet. Not until I made her come. Twice.

  “Fucking erupt all over my fucking hand, babe,” I commanded against the side of her neck, shifting on the bed. I loomed over her, trapping her to the mattress, my weight on her thigh.

  “Oh God, Lucas…”

  The sound of my name leaving her lips on a breath of sheer hunger sent fresh blood to my dick. Flooded it. Turned it into a pole of rigid agony.

  As always, when Ronnie turned me on, I suffered the most exquisite pain and pleasure a guy can. Addictive pain and pleasure.

  Potent.

  The very second I allowed myself to sink into her, I would explode. The battle over the beach—and what it really stood for in my head—made that inevitable.

  Knowing I had turned her into a prisoner of my love, my fear for her, turned this fuck into something dark.

  Christ, the good girl in my bed had no clue who she’d fallen in love with. Who loved her. A man who would kill for her.

  A dangerous man.

  A dangerous man made weak by her.

  “Come for me, babe,” I ordered again, trying to soften the demand. To take its ruthless urgency away. I moved my mouth to her breast, capturing her nipple with punishing hunger. Sucked.

  “Beach first,” she moaned, digging her heel into the small of my back.

  Every move she made, every breath belied the statement. Her juices trickled from her sex, over my fingers, into my palm. Her free hand—the one I wasn’t pinning to the bed with inescapable domination—raked at my back, my shoulders. Was she drawing blood? Possibly.

  I almost cracked at the thought. My dick pulsed, a thick spasm jerking it in the prison of my jeans.

  Thank fucking God I’d put them on after I’d showered. If I was naked now, if there was nothing separating Ronnie’s pussy from my cock, I’d be balls deep in her now.

  I pressed my thumb harder to her clit, rubbed it back and forth. “Come,” I growled, watching pleasure twist her eyebrows into a frown.

  “For.” I abandoned her clit, returning to the rapid stimulation of her G-spot. She whimpered and arched beneath me, her blunt nails gouging at my shoulder.

  “Me,” I whispered, before withdrawing my fingers, dipping my thumb into her sodden slit, and pressing one cream-slicked fingertip to her anus.

  “Oh God!” She came, her pussy growing wetter as her release flowed from her. I didn’t stop fucking her with my fingers. I wanted this orgasm to render her defenseless to me, to the orgasms to follow. I wanted her incapable of even thinking about the beach, let alone anything else but me making her come over and over.

  I wanted her drunk on pleasure and rapture.

  “Lucas!” she cried, writhing as I moved my thumb back to her clit and sank my fingers into her pussy once again. “I can’t…too much…too…”

  She thrashed against my weight, my grip on her wrist. I let her break free, the idea of her trying to stop me make her climax again a wicked craving I couldn’t fight.

  She grabbed at my wrist, squeezing its girth in an attempt to still my hand at her sex.

  I chuckled against her cheek and quickened my thrusts. “I told you, babe, if I want you to come, you’ll come.”

  She moaned, her grip on my wrist growing lax.

  “And I want you to come again,” I whispered.

  “Oh God,” she moaned. “I do too. Oh God, Lucas, make me come again. Make me come a—”

  I slipped my hand free of her heat, hooked my arms beneath her thighs and yanked her ass up off the bed, and plunged my tongue into her pussy.

  The sweet saltiness of her release coated my tongue and lips. She cried out, her heels thumping against my back as I worshipped her clit and sex with my mouth. I opened my eyes, wanting to see her incredible breasts jiggle, wanting to see the pleasure on her face.

  Her eyes were closed, scrunched tight as she gasped over and over.

  My trapped cock strained harder against my fly and, incapable of enduring the exquisite agony any longer, I rested Ronnie’s legs on my shoulders and tore the zipper open, lashing my tongue over Ronnie’s clit as I did so.

  Cold air enveloped my cock as it jutted free of my open jeans. Risking my sanity, I wrapped my hand around its engorged length, pumping it so hard I knew it would bruise my already swollen balls, punishing myself with pleasure even as I refused to let myself come.

  Control. Over my desire, my pleasure. Over Ronnie’s.

  “I need you inside me, Lucas,” she begged.

  I lifted my head from between her thighs, hitched her legs higher on my shoulders, and met her stare. “Not yet.”

  She choked back a whimper of protest. “When?”

  “When do you think?” I wanted her to say, After you’ve made me come again, Lucas.

  “After we go to the beach,” she said, a dark challenge dancing in her eyes.

  Something just as dark stirred inside me. I ground my teeth. “I’m going to make you suffer for that, babe.”

  Before she could respond, I took possession of her sex once more with my mouth. I flicked at her clit over and over. Every time she was close to coming, I lifted my head and blew on the tiny nub of sensitive flesh. Every time I did, she pleaded with me to make her come.

  Every time she did, I told her I was in charge of her orgasms before nipping at her clit with my teeth.

  I can be a macho caveman bastard when I want, and my girl was pushing me there now.

  My woman.

  Ronnie was my woman, and I had to protect her.

  “Holy…holy fuck…” She panted, fisting her hands in the duvet beneath her. “Lucas…oh God…Lucas…it’s too…too…”

  I moved. There’s a reason I’m a nightmare for my opponents on the underground MMA circuit. I’m fast. Very fast. And fucking strong.

  Before Ronnie finished saying good, I levered her off the bed, my face buried between her thighs, her legs wrapped my head, my hands flattened to the small of her back, keeping her exactly where I wanted her.

  Her shocked yelp echoed around our bedroom. My cock jerked with a thick spasm of impatient hunger.

  Just as Ronnie came a second time, I slammed her back to the bed, driving my tongue deeper into her wet folds.

  “Oh fuck, yes,” she cried, gripping my head tighter with her thighs. “Yes!”

  Two orgasms down. How many more before she forgot about the beach? About anything else but being here with me? Safe?

  I couldn’t stop a smug smile stretching my lips.

  Her hair spread around her head in a wild mane of tousled hair. Her eyes burned with rapture. Her cheeks were pink. Her breasts rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths.

  “I fucking love the way you taste, babe,” I said, kneeling between her spread legs to smooth my hands up over her belly, her ribs. I palmed her breasts, drawing my head closer to hers.

  Our gazes clashed. My balls throbbed from the sated pleasure in hers.

  “I’m quite partial to the way you taste as well,” she answered. “Fancy letting me tie you to the bed so I can give you a blowjob?”

  Hot lust surged through me. My cock turned to an aching pole. Fuck.

  I’d been tied up twice in my life, both times by corrupt-as-fuck cops. I’d sworn the second time I broke free that I would kill the next person to even think about doing it. But the thought of being tied up by Ronnie…of being completely in her hands…at her mercy.

  If only I didn’t know what I knew.

  “I’m not that easily fooled, babe,” I said, planting my hands on either side of her head, the tip of my cock nudging at her slick pussy lips. “The second after you tie me to this bed, you’re at the beach.”

  She laughed, a throaty chuckle that almost made me erupt. “Busted, I guess.”

  I drew in another breath, this one slower. Deeper. “Very busted. And now, about to be punished.”

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. Her tongue darted ov
er her bottom lip. “Lucas, as much as I’m enjoying all the sex, we can’t stay locked away from the rest of the world forever. We need—”

  I silenced her with a brutal kiss.

  I wasn’t gentle. There was nothing tender or romantic. I kissed her to show I was in charge. To show her I was in control. To make it clear when it came to her safety, I would not be distracted.

  Would not be dissuaded.

  Until I took care of the unfinished business of my shitty past life, Ronnie was where I wanted her to be and nowhere else.

  She’d fallen in love with a bad boy, and it fucking tore me apart that that love was bringing out the bad in me, even as it gave me hope I could one day be the man she thought I was—a good man.

  Could I ever be? Was that possible?

  Snaring her wrists, I pinned her arms above her head to the bed with one hand, cupping and kneading her breast with the other.

  She groaned into our kiss, arched into my rough caress.

  I plucked at her nipple, rolled its distended form under my thumb as I ravished her mouth with mine.

  She locked her legs around my hips, forcing my cock closer to her spread pussy. A wave of lust rolled through me as I dipped into her wet heat, the rim of my cockhead enveloped by her lips. One fierce, fluid thrust and I would be embedded in her.

  One stroke…

  She broke the kiss with a growl, her wild breaths fanning my lips as she looked up at me. “Fuck me, Lucas. Now. Hard. And I won’t mention the beach again today. I won’t—”

  I sank into her. To the balls. No mercy. No hesitation.

  “Yes,” she cried, thrusting her hips upward, taking me deeper still.

  She was playing me. As much as I was playing her. I knew Ronnie well. Better than anyone. I’d spent years watching her. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t a submissive pushover. It was one of the reasons I loved her. Our battle about her safety wasn’t over. She knew it, and I knew it.

  But there was nothing false about this, about the intensity of our fucking. This was real. This was animalistic and wild and everything a guy could want.

  Ronnie was everything a guy could want. And she was mine.

  My girl.

  The thought—absolute and powerful—undid me. My thrusts grew faster, almost erratic. I wanted to drive her to another orgasm long before my own, but the reality was when it came to Ronnie, I had little restraint over my body.

  I loved her too much. Wanted her too much.

  “Oh God, Lucas,” she moaned, moving beneath me with uninhibited desire. “That’s it. Harder. Harder.”

  I did as she begged, slamming into her over and over. With every savage stroke, my body burned hotter with pleasure. Every nerve ending sparked. My head swam, my heart raced.

  I fought for control. Thought of my sixth-grade teacher with the hairy knees singing the National Anthem. Thought of anything I could to stop the inevitable.

  Staring down into Ronnie’s pleasure-contorted face, hearing her moan over and over… I knew I was fucked. There was no stopping it.

  I fucking erupted at the exact moment Ronnie bucked her hips upward and clamped her legs tighter around my hips, her scream of release tearing from her throat, her pussy contracting around my cock.

  We came together.

  Perfect.

  Fucking perfect.

  I rode the waves of my orgasm, pumping my seed into Ronnie, her whimpers in my ear.

  Finally drained and spent, I slumped onto her. Rude? Yes, but something Ronnie got off on.

  Releasing her wrists, I buried my face into the side of her neck, supporting as much of my weight as I could on one elbow, hip, and thigh.

  She lay beneath me, trailing her fingers over my back in abstract patterns that sent delicious ripples across my sweaty skin. “I love you, Lucas,” she murmured. “You need to stop being scared for me.”

  I swallowed without raising my head. “I know.”

  I couldn’t. The day I did was the day I stopped protecting her. And I would protect her with my life. It was only Ronnie’s existence in this world that kept me turning into the violent animal I could so easily be. I was a dark, dangerous creature without her. I could live with that, but I couldn’t live with myself if she was hurt because of me.

  I would never stop being scared for her. Not of the dangers I’d stupidly brought into her life. Not of the danger I’d brought into her bed.

  Our bed.

  Fuck, what did I do now?

  Chapter 2

  I should have been prepared for what I found when I woke up.

  More to the fucking point, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.

  I pushed up onto my elbows, squinting around the dimly lit room. Weak afternoon light filtered through the window, the sky a grey stretch of thin clouds behind the wafting curtains.

  Something wrapped around my calves, stopping me from moving my legs freely.

  I jerked up from the mattress, twisting to see what bound me. My lower back protested at the abrupt hyperextension and the sharp shard of pain shearing down my legs and up my spine.

  Jeans. Just my jeans. Still half on, the waistband stretched taut against my calves. Christ, I’d fallen asleep with them around my legs?

  Shifting on the rumpled bed, I yanked them completely off and then scanned the room.

  Ronnie was not there.

  A hot lump settled in my throat.

  “Ronnie?”

  Silence answered my call. Nothing to get too freaked out about. Our home wasn’t small. Perhaps she was downstairs in the living area or kitchen. Or in the gym on the bottom floor.

  Maybe she was in the private shooting range on the same level. During the last seven days, I’d shown her how to fire a variety of small handguns. Maybe she was honing her skill. And skilled she was. If I didn’t know the truth of the matter, I would have bet good money she was a practiced marksman already. She rarely missed her target with any gun I gave her, except for a Glock. For some reason, there was something about a Glock that fucked up her aim.

  Heart thumping faster than I liked, I climbed off the bed and hurried from the room.

  “Ronnie?” I yelled, striding along the hallway. Perhaps she was in the room I’d set up as an office, ordering pizza on my laptop.

  What time was it anyway?

  I glanced at my watch. Fuck. After four. I’d slept for over three hours. Christ. She could be anywhere by now.

  Beach.

  The taunting thought scraped at my tenuous calm. I ground my teeth, glaring at my empty office. I thought I’d fucked the rebellious notion of venturing beyond the walls of our home from her. If she was at the beach… If she was exposed…unprotected…

  “Fuck,” I muttered, spinning on my heel to head downstairs to the living area. “Ronnie?”

  My voice bounced around the silence.

  The living room was empty. So was the kitchen. An empty glass sat upside down in the sink, the only sign Ronnie had been there at some point. She’d had a drink of water before going wherever she went.

  I clenched my jaw. Goddamn it, when I found her, I was going to turn her ass red with my hand. And then fuck her senseless.

  She wasn’t in the home theater room. Or the laundry.

  The lack of sound in the gym told me before I even reached the lower level she wasn’t there.

  “Fuck,” I ground out again.

  Okay. Time to get some clothes on and go looking for her outside.

  I took the stairs three at a time, launching myself up into the living area again, gaze flicking towards the glass doors leading out onto the deck, and froze.

  Movement.

  In the bushes.

  Chest tight, limbs loose—ready to coil—I crossed the living room, my stare fixed on the dense garden beside the grassed backyard.

  The sun reflected off the glass of the door, hitting my eyes for a split second. But in that split second, I swore I saw the bush move again. Too high for an animal…

  Ronni
e? Gardening?

  I slid the glass door open. The sounds of birds and nature wafted on the still air. In the distance, waves crashed against the sand. Were those waves streaming around Ronnie’s ankles? Was she down there? Alone?

  Chest growing tighter, I narrowed my eyes and studied the garden.

  The perimeter fence of the property was imposing. Getting in was not easy. It would take more than just a ladder to scale the walls. Plus, the security system was set to detect any movement. If anyone was stupid enough to attempt to enter the property, an alarm would let me know.

  Only two people apart from myself knew the override code—Ronnie and Doctor Lila Winchester. Ronnie was AWOL, and the veterinarian—among other things—was currently in New York at a conference.

  Breath held in my throat, I watched the bush.

  Nothing moved.

  I let out a ragged sigh. I was getting jumpy.

  Turning from the open door, I began walking for the stairs leading up to our bedroom. Clothes. I needed—

  The distinct sound of someone diving into the pool filled the silence, followed by more splashing water.

  I turned and sprinted to the open door, charging out onto the back deck, ready to launch myself over the railing and down onto the yard ten feet below. And stopped at the sight of Ronnie propelling herself through the water with a relaxed breaststroke motion.

  “Oh fuck,” I burst out. Relief crashed through me, hot and prickling and mocking.

  Christ, what the hell was wrong with me?

  A hoarse chuckle scratched at my throat and I scrubbed at the back of my neck, watching Ronnie swim.

  Fuck, she’s naked.

  I skimmed my palm down over my stomach to cup my nuts, admiring the way Ronnie slid through the water, her perfection unmarred by bathers.

  For a second, I considered shouting out to her, informing her I was going to join her, but I decided to stand back and enjoy the show for a while instead.

  And fuck me, what a show it was.

  Ronnie cut through the water, lap after lazy lap, her incredible ass bunching with each kick, glimpses of her breasts teasing me as her arms moved with each stroke.

  My dick turned to a rigid pole as I admired the view. I massaged my balls, drawing deep, steadying breaths to slow my heart.