The Perfect Stroke

by Jordan Marie

  “You were a bad girl, Ana. You are not to leave unless I, Robert, or one of the security men who work for me knows where you’re going or is with you. The fact that you snuck away from me and could have been hurt displeases me,” I tell her, tossing my shirt on a chair as if I didn’t have a care in the world, as if I wasn’t about to explode.

  “I never agreed to all of that, Roman. Besides I only went to visit my mother,” she whispers, her head going down into the pillow as her breathing increases to the point I can see it shudder through her body. My hand goes under her chin and I pull her face back to look at me because I need her to see what I’m saying. I need her to know how serious I am.

  “She is not a mother. You will not mention her name in our bed again. Do you understand?”

  It might be unreasonable, but the woman I met today was no mother. There was nothing maternal in her body. She was a monster, and I know without even investigating further that she left scars on Ana. Scars that you might not see on the outside, but are there nonetheless.

  “Roman…”

  “Answer me, Ana.”

  “You said… ‘our bed’…”

  Her words make me stall for a split-second until I see the emotion in her face. Does she not realize the rules that I’ve broken for her? Does she not get that I’m completely obsessed with her? What could she have possibly thought I meant when I said I claimed her?

  I reach out and slide my hand down her head, my fingers playing with the whisper-soft blonde tendrils. The pads of my fingers trail down the skin on the back of her neck. I smile as a shiver rakes through her as slow as a lover’s caress. My hand continues along her back, leisurely traveling the plains of her body and committing it to memory. I stop when I reach her lower back. Her ass curves out, forming a perfect half-globe shape that tantalizes me. My hands move down to massage each cheek, my fingers biting into them and pulling them apart to see that small dark opening they hide.

  “Do you know who owns this body, Ana?” I ask her, my tone light as if I’m talking about the weather and betraying nothing of the need inside of me. Along with my question, I continue applying pressure into one of her cheeks while I take my other hand and move lower between her legs. I take my index and middle finger and dive between the lips of her pussy, pushing and seeking until I find that swollen clit. She’s soaked with need, and if I didn’t have other plans, I would slide under her and let her ride my face until she smothered me in sweet cream. Instead, I drag them back through her pussy and up to that small forbidden hole in her ass. I push them inside without warning. She squeezes down on them, trying to reject their entry, crying out. I hold her ass still with my hand and push until my fingers break free of the muscles guarding the tight opening.

  “Roman!” she cries out, and my dick jumps. I feel a bead of pre-cum slide down my shaft. My balls are so full and ready to explode, they feel like lead weights.

  “Who owns your body, Ana?”

  “You do, Roman. God help us both, you do.”

  For some reason, her dramatic answer makes me smile. I slide my fingers in and out of her ass, pulling them apart to stretch her with each new entry. Ana is grinding her chest down on the bed, dragging her breasts against the silk fabric of the sheets. I take my fingers out and she whimpers when they don’t go back in. I have other plans, though. I move to the side of the bed, roughly pulling her up to her knees. I hold her until she manages to steady herself on her elbows. I go back to rubbing her ass with one hand while massaging her pussy with the other. She’s bucking against my hold, whimpering with need and trying to grind against my hand, thrusting towards it in uneven, completely broken thrusts. She’s fueled by lust and it’s beautiful—but not enough. I lean down, letting my breath fan against her side, my lips grazing her hip.

  “Such a beautiful little pussy. So hungry and greedy, it’s trying to devour my hand. You’d let me fuck you with my whole hand if I could get inside, wouldn’t you, pet? You’d do anything I ask right now if I just let you come. Say it, Ana.”

  “Anything,” she whispers on a heavy breath.

  I take my hands away, refusing to give her any kind of relief. Instead, I bring my palm hard on her ass. My dick jerks as the noise of my hand slapping that white fleshy ass rings through the room.

  “Roman!” she yells out in surprise.

  I spank her again, and again. She’s trying to get away, but that too is impossible, and by the time I deliver the tenth stinging slap, she’s thrusting up to meet my hand and panting.

  “I’ll ask you again, Ana. Who owns this body?”

  “You do!” she hisses.

  I manhandle her. There’s no other way to put it. There’s nothing easy about the need slamming through me right now. I flip her over. The small area of movement she had with the tie ceases as the fabric twists and wraps around her wrists one more time, pulling taut. She cries out, but her hands are positioned high above her head, just like I want them. This won’t last long, so I won’t worry the pain will be too much. Later, I’ll take her slower. Now, the need to be inside her has been too long denied.

  I push her legs up against her chest, opening that pussy to me. It’s so wet and covered in her juices, I could lose it right here. Instead, I spank the wet, juicy lips of her pussy. My dick cries as her body jerks up toward it. Her body shakes and I could swear a small orgasm runs through her body. She cries out my name and that drives me to take it further. I pull the lips of her pussy apart and slap my hand against it again, this time centering most of the attention on her hard, pulsating clit. She says something, but she’s so far gone the words are unrecognizable. Cream is literally pooling from her pussy, coating the side of her thighs. If I could stand it, I’d continue doing this over and over. Right now, my cock is demanding his due.

  “Who owns this body, Ana?” I demand again. I’m going overboard, I know it, but I can’t stop it. My need for her to admit that she’s mine is as elemental as breathing.

  “You,” she whimpers, her body shuddering.

  I unlatch my pants, pushing them down my hips. I don’t have time to undress. I’ll worry about that later too. I line my cock up at her entrance, raking the head back and forth in her juices.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Ana, and fill you with my cum, branding you from the inside, out.”

  Her head comes up to look at me, her eyes round and she’s biting her lip. “Hurry,” she gasps, and that’s all the encouragement I need.

  I brace myself on her knees, which are bent back against her body, and thrust inside her. Her muscles immediately clench my cock tight, rippling around it in a way that I know I won’t be able to hold on for very long. I pull out and then thrust back inside, firm. When I’m seated deep inside of her, I grind down on her pussy. Her body shudders beneath me and she cries out my name as another orgasm pummels her body—this one much bigger. Over and over I ram in and out of her, riding her hard. I can feel the heat run through my dick and my cum releasing into her.

  “After I’m done,” I breathe, “I’m going to fuck you again.”

  “Yes. God, yes,” she whimpers.

  “Then, sweet Ana, I’ll pull out and come all over this body,” I tell her, stroking her stomach with my hand and envisioning my cum all over the creamy white skin. I’m shuddering as my climax moves through me, but I want to hold off, not give in completely until I give her the words that will show her just how obsessed I am. “I’ll pull out and come all over this body,” I repeat, “just so there’s no fucking doubt that you are, in fact,” I take a breath right before I trust back into her, “mine.”

  I give in to the demand of my climax and let stream after stream of my cum jet inside of her, painting her fucking womb with my seed. I know it and I own it. I want her pregnant. I want Ana fucking tied to me, unable to get away. I collapse to the side of her, my head on her breast. I shiver as my dick slides from her body. My hand goes to her pussy and I hold it there, holding my cum inside of her, not wanting one drop to leave her.

>   Roman’s headed to the nightclub. I watch him until the elevator doors close and enjoy the dark knowing smile he wears as he watches me. I’m wearing nothing but his white buttoned-up shirt, which is too big for me. My hair is rumpled because he just fucked me to an inch within my life. My body is deliciously sore and I wish he wasn’t leaving. When the doors close, I take a deep breath and fall back on the Italian leather sofa. The damn thing is so soft, it should be illegal. I close my eyes and try to get a grip on my emotions, just like I do every time Roman leaves me.

  I’ve been living with Roman in this apartment for two weeks now. Two weeks of his constant attention and being his woman have altered me in ways I never expected. Honestly, we’ve settled into a routine, and if only it wasn’t built on lies and deceit, I would be completely happy.

  I’ve been ignoring Paul’s summons. He’s getting more insistent. Roman almost caught one of his 911 texts last night from the small prepaid cell I keep. I hid the phone in a bunch of towels and distracted him with sex. I seem to distract Roman a lot with sex.

  I’ve been putting it off, but I’ll have to touch base with Paul and I’m dreading it. He’ll want to know if I’ve planted the coke and set up a sting. I haven’t and I don’t think I can. I’m just dreading the conversation with Paul.

  I grab the cell from my purse and text Paul:

  Cloverfield Medical Complex. 2 p.m.

  Even setting up the meeting twists my gut. I’m apparently going to Roman’s physician to get checked out today. He informed me it’s something we should have done weeks ago, but I make him forget his rules. He’s already shown me the clean bill of health the doctor gave him and I guess this is my turn. I want to be offended, but let’s face it, in today’s world that’s smart. Probably way too late, considering we’re fucking like bunnies every chance we get, but whatever. Besides, I can’t hardly be offended since I’m lying to him every time I turn around.

  That’s starting to bother me too. They warned me you can go too deep undercover, so deep that you start to lose sight of who you are and become the person you’re portraying. The thing is, in this case, I’m being me. The real Ana. The Ana that I’ve kept hidden since I was the scared sixteen year old that Paul Banks saved. When I’m with Roman, it’s not about being someone I don’t know; it’s all about letting my guard down and showing him who I am. Which is crazy. Completely crazy.

  Roman swears he’s doing his best to help me with my brother. He hasn’t shown me proof, but I still find myself believing him, which makes me wonder if I didn’t have Roman Anthes pegged wrong to begin with. He’s becoming more relaxed around me, so much so that in this past week, he’s even beginning to talk business in front of me. Not a lot, but little things, enough for me to understand he’s brokering a deal with the Russian mob. That should terrify me—and maybe it does—but not enough to turn me away from him.

  My phone vibrates. I look at the text with a feeling of dread:

  About fucking time. I’ll be there.

  The more I see the words, the more I want to vomit. I clear off all history of the texts and bury my phone back in my purse. I can’t put this off any longer. I jump in the shower. It’s a busy day and I don’t have time to waste. I’ve got the doctor’s appointment, the fight with Paul (and it will be a fight), and then tonight I’m accompanying Roman to a dinner party. He bought me the sexiest, barely-there little black dress I have ever seen. I’m all set, but I’m a nervous wreck about it, too. I may need medication to survive today. That’s my last thought as I go jump in the shower.

  Time to stop putting things off.

  The doctor’s appointment threw me off. I’m feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. How did it not register to me that I had been having unprotected sex with Roman for two weeks? Unprotected sex with a man I’ve been trying to get information on to prove he’s part of a Miami underground drug ring? A man I suspected at one time of killing my brother? Unprotected sex. Maybe Paul’s right and my brain is all fucked up. Maybe the best thing would be to have the DEA and FEDs pull me.

  I’m kicking that around in my head as I make my way to the first floor to meet Paul. My appointment was at one and I’m now ten minutes late. I texted him and told him to wait for me by the pharmacy area. There’s an alcove right off the main room where I can meet with him briefly. It’s the most I can chance right now. I don’t think Roman has me tailed, but I’m sure he has Robert watching me and making sure I’m okay. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Roman Anthes, it’s that he’s very protective.

  “You’re fucking late,” Paul barks at me. I look around to notice the area is empty. The pharmacy is shut down for a late lunch, so thankfully no one is around to hear him.

  “Will you shut the fuck up for Christ’s sake before you blow my cover?”

  “You’ve been radio silent for two fucking weeks and you expect me to be concerned with blowing your fucking cover? What’s wrong, Ana? Afraid Roman won’t fuck you anymore if he knows you’re a cop?”

  I don’t even think. I slap him across the face. The force of my hit turns his head sideways. He brings his hand up to his face and looks at me with contempt. Had my relationship with Paul not already been deteriorating, that look would have destroyed me. “Fuck you,” I growl.

  “Who knew sleeping with a felon would give you spunk,” Paul says, his voice deadly. He brings his hand up to rub where I hit him. “Maybe once you’re done playing Roman’s whore, I’ll give you a go so you can compare.”

  His words make me want to hurl. They literally make me gag. The man I looked up to and thought I owed so much to says these vile things. I thought of him as a father. My stomach cramps with the need to vomit. I breathe through it, instinctively determined not to show weakness to him.

  “I want a new handler. If you don’t make it happen, I will. The choice is yours,” I tell him, my voice quiet. I turn to leave and he grabs my hand, pulling me around to face him.

  “You think you’re getting off that easy? You signed up for this fucking job and you’ll tow the line or you’ll pay. I’ve had Anthes in my sight for over a fucking year and I’m not letting some wet-behind-the-ears wanna-be-detective ruin it for me. You have until tomorrow afternoon to plant that shit, or I’ll have someone else do it.”

  “You can’t—”

  “Watch me. Do your fucking job, Ana. That’s why you’re here. That’s the only reason you’re here. Don’t forget for even a minute that if Anthes knew you were a cop, he’d kill you without a second thought. You’re nothing to him. Nothing but an easy piece of ass who keeps her legs spread.”

  I start to slap him again but he grabs my hand, preventing me.

  “What happened to you?” I ask confused.

  “Not a fucking thing. Except a woman I used to admire has become the fuck-toy to one of the vilest men in Miami. Get your head out of your ass and back in the game, Ana. Do your job, or I’ll do it for you.”

  “I’m no one’s fuck-toy. You’re overstepping your bounds. I could have you—”

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Roman snarls. My face goes pale as I turn away from Paul to see Roman standing at the door.

  Fuck.

  The last thing I expected to see was Ana standing there yelling at the one man I’m dying to kill. Paul Banks. If there’s a man more deserving to be on the wrong end of a pistol, I haven’t met him. Which is saying something, in my line of work. My eyes narrow on the hold he has on Ana and the strange look on her face. I walk to them, anger fueling every step. There will be no saving the motherfucker now.

  “I suggest you let go of my woman, Banks. Now, while you still have a hand.”

  Paul turns her loose with a look of disgust. “Anthes. I didn’t realize they let scum out on the streets this early.”

  “What the fuck is going on here? Ana, how do you know this weasel?” I ask, and her face blanches and goes even whiter.

  “Ana and I go way back. I never figured you were one to take my leftovers, Roman. I gues
s you’re growing bored of sampling the women who work for you.”

  I hear Ana’s gasp, but my attention has turned to the fucker in front of me. All of my attention is on Banks.

  “Ana, go to the car,” I order.

  “Roman, he’s lying. I never slept with him.”

  “To the car, Ana,” I tell her again, showing no emotion, but I’d be a fucking liar if I didn’t admit to the fact that knowing she hadn’t been with Banks doesn’t soothe something inside of me. “Robert, escort Ana to the car,” I tell my driver. I don’t turn to make sure my order is followed. I know it will be, and I don’t trust Banks enough to take my eyes off of him. “You come near Ana again, and you’ll regret it.”

  “Has the mighty Roman Anthes fallen for a pussy?”

  “You heard me, Banks. You can push your weight around all you want, but you and I both know what a bottom dweller you are. Be careful you don’t end up at the bottom of an ocean.”

  “Is that a threat, Anthes? Threatening cops can get you in deep shit these days,” he responds arrogantly.

  “Not a threat. I don’t waste my time with threats. I’m saying you so much as sniff the wind in Ana’s direction and I’ll end you. Take that any way you want.”

  “Maybe she’s the one sniffing in my direction. Trying to find a real man who—”

  I strike out before he can finish, my knuckles crunching against his teeth. He goes down with a thud. Blood pours from his lip and I hope I’ve at least knocked his teeth loose.

  “Ana is not on your radar. Ever. Consider this the only warning you’ll get, Banks. You might hide behind your badge, but don’t forget I know where you’ve fucking buried the bodies.”

  It’s a useless warning. He signed his death warrant when he put his hand on Ana. I planned on ending him for a while; I was just holding off, not wanting to draw possible attention as long as I was talking to Kuzma, but some things a man can’t ignore.