by Jordan Marie
“Your dinner is getting cold, pet,” I remind her, doing my best not to grind against her body. My cock is as hard as brick, pushing up against her bare pussy. The sweatpants I pulled on do nothing to block out the feel of her.
“I’m not hungry for food,” she whispers.
My hands flex into her hips, biting into them, and even the sting of that doesn’t bother her. I pull her roughly to the side, using my hand to swipe the dishes from the table. They fall to the pristine granite floor in a heap of broken glass, porcelain dishes, and food.
“What are you—” Ana rasps, grabbing my shoulders tight as I stand up, placing her on the table.
“Having my dinner. I’m starved,” I growl, putting pressure on her chest so she falls gently back, flat against the table.
“Roman, the mess—your maid,” Ana whispers, but I ignore her. My fingers bite into her ass as I pull her into me.
“Fuck the mess, pet,” I tell her, just before my tongue pushes between the lips of her pussy and her taste fills my mouth. What is it about her? What is it that makes this woman irresistible? When I was younger, women were a must. For a while now though, building my business and making my name took precedence. I’ve had a few partners. Handpicked, backgrounds checked, and contracts signed. Sex is a business just like every other thing in my life.
Until now. I’ve broken every rule I’ve ever had with Ana. She’ll definitely be mixing business with pleasure, considering I’ll most likely kill her brother.
There’s no contract in place, which is a major concession. And here I am, a grown man of forty-two, diving into the pussy of a woman I haven’t had medically examined. That should be enough to cool me off and make me pull back. The fact that it’s not is worrisome, but right now I couldn’t care less.
“Roman,” she breathes.
If you can get addicted to the way someone says your name, then I am definitely there. I flatten my tongue and slide it through her cream until I hit her swollen clit. I suck the nub into my mouth, using the pressure and my teeth to tease and torment it. Her hands reach for my head and I pull up.
“Keep your hands down, Ana. I’ll give you everything you need.”
Her body jerks in response and her hands slam down on the table. I use my fingers to pull the lips of her pussy apart. She’s beautiful. All feminine heat that is slick, wet, pale pink with darker hues slowly fading in. A work of art. I blow across the tender flesh and watch the skin react, as her clit literally pulsates. I put two of my fingers against the needy little button. Then I slowly drag them over her clit and further down until I get to her entrance. There I push the fingers, which are now coated with her juices, into her tight channel. Again my dick reacts strongly by pushing up towards her like the desperate bastard he is. He wants inside her. I want inside her. I try to hold on to why I am denying myself. I’ve never had a problem with doing that before. I never lose sight of the prize and I keep a tight leash on my desires. Ana has already managed to get me to loosen the reins way too much. I will not take her pussy until things are clearer, ground rules are set, and her body is demanding me beyond anything she’s experienced before. I want Ana bound to me … at least until I’m done with her.
I groan because her whole body physically shivers at my invasion. The walls of her pussy clamp down on my fingers, trying to pull them deeper inside. I begin moving them in and out of her, loving the way her juice pours from her and the wet sounds it makes as I fuck her slow and hard.
“More,” she whimpers, her hands going up to palm her breasts. I watch, fascinated at the way her fingers bite into those plush mounds. The skin stretches as she pulls on her nipples. I should reprimand her for taking that privilege, but it’s too beautiful to watch. It’s so erotic I want to watch longer, but I can’t resist her pull. I place a kiss against her clit and then slide my tongue around her sweet pussy, gathering all the cream I can find while I continue to fuck her with my fingers. When her body starts thrusting up to meet my fingers and her moans grow louder, I know she’s near the edge.
“Are you close, pet?” I ask her, allowing my breath to fan over her pussy before sliding my tongue back against her clit and twirling it over and over, sucking it into my mouth.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice full of desperation as she tries to grab hold of her orgasm. “Oh God, Roman. I’m coming.” The last part of her sentence is drawn out in a long whine of need.
I pull away, leaving my fingers inside of her, but refusing to move them.
“Did I give you permission to come, Ana?”
“What? No!” she cries, her body shaking so much I can watch how it quakes.
“You can’t come until I tell you to, pet.”
“Roman!”
“I’m going to play with you a little longer. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come.”
“Yes!” she cries as I pull my fingers out and then thrust them back in. Her body bows, trying to latch on tight enough to give her what she needs. Every movement she makes is poetry. I thought she was beautiful dancing. It was nothing compared to this. And her taste. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced before and far more addicting than any drug. I can’t resist diving back in. I let my tongue move along the heated folds of her pussy, sliding my tongue inside with my fingers. I repeat that a couple of times, working in tandem to excite her even more, until I finally direct all of my attention back to her clit.
I know I’m pushing her past her limits. I know that she doesn’t have the discipline needed to pass this test. I have no business even bringing her this far into my world without ground rules. I know all this, I just don’t give a fuck. In my mind, I’m yelling, Don’t come, Ana, even knowing she will. I have fallen under her spell. She’s been so naturally submissive up to this point that I could forget this is new to her. I doubt she even realizes how truly submissive she is.
“Roman, I’m coming,” she gasps, which is really her undoing, because now I push her further.
“Not yet, pet,” I warn her before I suck her clit into my mouth, humming against the nub while pushing my fingers deep inside of her. I pull my fingers apart, stretching her just as my teeth bite into the tender flesh of her clit. The sting of pain throws her over the edge into a climax. I give her just a little more, allowing her to fully go over the edge. Then, it takes every bit of willpower I have to take my mouth and hand away, ensuring that her orgasm, though complete, never truly takes her where it could. It just leaves her needing more.
“Roman?” she asks, confused. Her violet eyes are smoky as she slowly opens them.
“I told you not to come,” I tell her.
Shock fills her face. She shuffles to sit on the table. I use my hands on her hips to help brace her. “I… you… can’t…”
“Now you have to be punished, Ana.”
“Punished?” she squeaks.
“It’s your first offense, so I’ll go easy on you.”
“Easy on me?” she parrots.
My thumb moves along her bottom lip, following the curve. I push against it, letting just the tip of my thumb push into her mouth.
“I’m going to fuck this pretty little face.”
She doesn’t respond, but I don’t miss the way she squirms at my words.
She might be the most perfect partner I’ve ever played with.
I jerk awake with a start. I’m surprised I slept at all. I haven’t been able to get more than a few hours a night since Allen started getting into trouble. Roman is sleeping beside me, his hand strung across my stomach. The temptation to stay is strong. The heat of his body lures me in, and there’s so much more I want to experience. For all that we’ve done, I’ve not had him inside of me yet, and I ache for that. Hunger for it. I’ve had a few relationships and I’ve always known that I like for a man to take control, but none have been as dominate and demanding as Roman was. I even have the feeling that he was holding back. I would love to explore more with him. That would be bad. For several reasons.
I want to str
etch against him and relax back into his warmth. I can’t. I can’t stay here. I need to meet with Paul and I need to see if he’s managed to get any more leads on Allen. I can’t help but stare at Roman for a minute. Asleep, he looks different. Still devastatingly handsome and breathtaking, but his face is softer, relaxed … even peaceful. I’ve spent the last couple of days kicking myself for being attracted to Roman. It goes against everything I stand for. I know what kind of man he is. I know the things he does. All of that should make me run in the opposite direction. Yet, here I am in bed with him, breaking every rule I’ve put in place, and not even able to drum up enough guilt to care. In fact, if he was to wake up right now, I’d give myself to him again.
I should have never crossed that line. Now I’m afraid I’ll never be able to go back.
I try to slide out of the bed, but Roman’s hand stops me, pulling me back into him. At first I’m afraid I’ve woken him, but he mumbles and shifts in his sleep. I hold myself as still as humanly possible, but doing so causes me to breathe in his scent, and this tiny frisson of need blooms in my stomach and moves through my body. Good Lord, he’s more addicting than any drug on the market. Once he settles down, I try once again to slide away. He protests at first, his fingers pressing into my side. No one has ever tried to hold on to me, in bed or out, and the fact that Roman is, really messes with my head.
I push it away. I can’t fixate on that right now. I carefully replace my body with the pillow above my head and, inch by inch, pull away. It takes me awhile to gather my clothes, mostly because I keep looking back expecting Roman to catch me. Insanity. He’ll probably be glad I’m going. He doesn’t seem the type to indulge in awkward morning-after conversation.
I have my satchel, but I’m afraid to take the time to find clean clothes, so I put my underwear and bra back on in disgust. I’ve never done it before. Is this what makes the walk of shame so… shameful? Then, I hold the rest of the clothes and my overnight bag tight to my chest and carefully leave the room. I can get dressed with less worry in the living area. I’m pulling up my pants when I hear movement to my right. My eyes look up and that’s when I see the maid from last night. She’s shooting me a look much like I imagine Medusa would use when turning her victims to stone.
“Um… I was just going to…”
“Leave? Don’t let me stop you. Mr. Anthes doesn’t normally like his whores to be here when he wakes up, so you should hurry. The few that overstayed their welcome wish they hadn’t.”
I’m completely taken aback. Her words smack me harder than any physical blow would. If looks could kill, I would be dead.
“I’m sorry about the dishes. I could help.” Even as I’m saying the words, I hate them, but I need to not make enemies. I do not need someone dying to destroy me, especially in Roman’s home.
“The last thing I need is your help,” she replies cattily.
Well, it can’t get any clearer than that. I quickly put my shirt and socks on, then walk to the door.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” I say again. Really, at this point I want to kick my own ass.
“Just make sure you didn’t steal anything. Mr. Anthes will not look kindly towards a thief.”
Look kindly? Steal? Thief? There so much there to dislike and the words make me swallow the acid that has churned up from my stomach. I want to scream at her and maybe throat-punch her, kick her in the lady-junk. Something.
Instead, I ignore her, which is no consolation. I quietly open the door and step outside. I lean against it and take a large breath, feeling like I just escaped prison. My body jumps when I hear the click of the lock from the other side. The maid, no doubt. Bitch. I take a deep breath and then walk away. If I hurry, I’ll have just enough time to shower before I meet Paul. The last thing I need is to go see him while smelling like sex—like sex with Roman. I can only imagine the lectures that will get me.
“The next time you decide to text me at six in the morning and ask me to meet you in thirty minutes, the least you could do is be on time, Ana,” Paul says, his gravelly voice ringing out in the empty warehouse. We’re meeting in an abandoned warehouse about three blocks from the apartment I’m renting. I think it used to be an old dog food factory. Now it’s just empty cement that smells musty, dirty, and—just to add spice—seems to have a faint smell of urine. Whether it’s human or animal, I couldn’t begin to know, and don’t care to find out.
“It’s just ten minutes. Stop whining, Paul. You sound like an old mother hen,” I tell him, grabbing the coffee he’s handing me. Coffee, sweet nectar of the gods. It’s the only thing that keeps me going these days.
“Someone needs to worry about shit around here. You sure aren’t. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ana?”
I freeze with my lips against the plastic lid on the container and close my eyes. Shit. Fuck. Damn. He knows. “I don’t know what you mean,” I bluff. “I don’t have much time though, so give me what you guys got at the raid yesterday.”
“What are you doing, Ana?” he repeats, but his voice is softer this time, the type of voice I imagine a father using on his daughter. Well, a good one. I never had one of those, but I can imagine it. And Paul is everything I wish my father had been. At fifty-two, he’s stern but caring, and has been a great role model. He’s helped me turn my life around. So, it’s not easy seeing the disappointment in his eyes right now.
“Please, Paul, let it go. Brass told me they wanted me to get close to Roman.”
“They didn’t mean his bed.”
“That’s not the first time a UC went beyond for a case. Don’t try to convince me I’m wrong.”
“It’s not, but that doesn’t make it right, and those guys have been with the DEA for fucking years; they’re one step away from going vigilante. That’s not who you want to model your career after. Shit, girl. You’re a fucking beat cop. The higher-ups only put you in this position because it involved your brother.”
“And it’s working, right?”
“Ana.”
“Paul, I have to try and get my brother out of this mess alive. If I can do that, that’s all that matters.”
“And kiss your career goodbye?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“That’s crazy talk, kid. You don’t want to ruin your career over this. It doesn’t matter what you do, your brother’s still going to prison. You have to know that.”
“Maybe that’s the best thing for him. He can get clean behind bars,” I argue. He gives me that look. The one that says I’m being naïve. Maybe I am. I know drugs are thick in the prisons too, but he stands a chance of getting clean there. If he stays free, he’s going to die.
If he’s not already dead.
“Ana, you need to face facts.”
“Can you please just let this drop and tell me what they found in the raid?”
Paul sighs, but thankfully he lets it go. I know it’s just a temporary reprieve, but still I’m grateful.
“Nothing, kid. Much like we thought. We only did it to distract him and try to rescue you without closing down the investigation. That obviously didn’t work.”
I concentrate on my coffee and ignore the heat in my face.
“You’re having me tailed.”
“You had to know that. You might be deep undercover, but there’s no way they’re going to trust you not to fuck shit up—and not just because you’re Allen’s sister.”
“Because I’m a rookie.”
“Because you’re not even DEA. There’s too much invested to rest it on an unknown.”
“So there’s someone else undercover besides me?”
Paul’s silence speaks volumes. Shit. Fuck. Damn. I finish off the last of my coffee, going over the people I’m in contact with, trying to figure out who the fuck the other agent is. I sure as fuck don’t need someone getting me pulled from this case. Shit, I don’t want them to decide to close it down and bring Roman in either. Their first priority will not be my brother.
“We need you to take these and plant them in Roman’s bedroom. It’s the only room we’ve been unable to get a device in, undetected,” Paul says, handing me a small white envelope.
“Same drill as before?” I ask, stuffing the paper into the front pocket of my jeans.
“Yeah, try to keep them as close to the bed as you can, or the desk in his room.”
“Got it,” I tell him, trying to ignore the way I feel guilt at doing my job. I didn’t choose the life Roman has. I should have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing.
“Try to remember that they’re there, will you? The last fucking thing you need to do is have Brass hear you taking it up the ass by one of their most-wanted kingpins.” I grow pale at his words. He’s upset, I get that. I didn’t expect that from him, however.
“I’ll just be going, now,” I tell him, turning away to leave.
He grabs my arm to stop me. “Ana, listen…”
I turn slightly so I can see him. “I think you’ve said enough. I appreciate the advice and concern, but at twenty-six, I will make my own decisions and live with the consequences. I don’t need anyone talking down to me.”
“Ana, you don’t understand…”
“I’ll check in tomorrow, Paul,” I interrupt him and walk out with him saying my name to my back. I’m not mad, not really. He’s right. I did let it go too far. He’s also wrong because I didn’t do it for Allen. I’m not about to tell him that, however. It’s too late to go back and I don’t want to. It’s a moot point because as I jog around the corner heading towards my apartment, I see Roman standing on my doorstep, in his suit, coat, and gloves. He’s angry, I can tell that even from this distance. What I notice most, however, is the way my pussy clenches and the butterflies in my stomach when he turns his gaze on me.