“No…” I gasp, fear making my arousal burn even hotter.
“Worried it would hurt?” His voice is almost a soothing croon.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Let’s find out.” Before I can process the words, the crop comes down right between my legs, a hard slap, electrifying me with pain and pleasure.
“Dane!” I scream, twisting and tugging at the cuffs. “Fuck!”
Then his mouth is back between my legs, and he’s sucking my clit hard, and I cry out, whimpering, as only pleasure is left, phenomenal pleasure.
He bites my thigh. “That’s what you can expect next time you disobey, Talia. A good hard pussy spanking with the crop. How would you like a dozen of those?”
I don’t answer because my voice is literally gone with desire.
“Oh, I’ll punish you other ways, too, if I need to,” he adds as if it were an afterthought, making me whimper with need. “Maybe I’ll take you over my lap and whip you with my belt until you cry out for mercy, just as a reminder of who’s in charge. Or maybe I’ll fuck you hard and make you wait to come until much, much later in the evening. You’ll get one orgasm for every three of mine, and I’ll really make you wait for it, baby. You like that?”
He puts both hands to my cunt, touching. Fingering me.
“Fuck,” I pant, pressing myself into his hands. “Please, I want to come.”
“Ask permission,” he snaps.
“Master Dane, may I come?” I cry out, my voice high and needy, something I barely recognize. But I fucking love it, being his this way. “Please.”
“You think you deserve it?” But he’s increasing the pressure just the right way, as if he knows what I need better than I do.
“Yes, please.” I’m already starting to crest, the feeling growing in me, the wave inevitable.
“Come,” he says, one simple word, and I do. I cry out strangled sounds of passion and whimper as the feeling grows and grows into something incredible. And when it bursts, like a firework, like a bomb, my whole body fills with ecstatic bliss, as I come and come and come.
He uncuffs me and rubs my wrists for a second, then pulls me toward him. I flip forward into his arms, and he puts both arms around me, then scoops me up as if I weigh nothing. I relax into his chest, panting, getting my breath back.
I don’t know how long he holds me. Only that I’m flying, my whole body tingling with residual pleasure, and it feels good. It’s got to be at least ten minutes before I stir.
“God, that was so good,” I murmur. I reach up and pull off the blindfold, drop it onto the floor. I can’t remember the last time I came that hard, or that good. The feeling is still tingling in my core, sending little spires of awesome into my body. “God.”
He laughs. “That’s just the start.”
I look at his face and he’s not joking. Already I want him again, the need even greater and burning hotter than before.
His desire makes me confident. I run my hands over my body. “I think you need to strip, too. Show me what’s mine as well.”
“I’m definitely yours.” There’s a tone to his voice that startles me.
He tugs me to him and kisses me again, and I melt against him. I drop my hand and stroke him through his pants. “Take these off,” I urge, as I finger his thick, long outline. “I want to touch you.” I love the size of his strong chest and abs, and now I need to see the rest of him.
“As you command,” he says, his voice low. “Lie back and touch yourself while you wait for me. Feel how wet you got for me.”
I lie back, watching him intently, even while I spread my legs and reach down to stroke my clit. I’m slick with moisture, and it only increases as he kicks off his boots. When he removes his pants, I murmur in appreciation at the sight of his cock. It’s so hard, so long.
“You look so good,” I murmur, increasing the urgency of my strokes. “Come closer so I can feel.”
He smiles and saunters over, his glorious cock taut, long, pressing against his lean stomach.
He stands beside me for a second and I grasp his length, sighing at the feel of his skin, soft, covering the hardest cock I’ve ever felt. The urge to have him inside me is almost overwhelming.
He must feel the same, because he pulls away and gets onto the bed, settling between my legs, urging me to spread wider by gently pushing at my inner thighs. He puts one arm on either side of my head and looks into my eyes. “You wanna fuck, baby?” he whispers, and the dirty words combined with his soft voice make me combust.
“Yeah.” I grab his ass with both hands, sighing at the feel of his taut muscles, his perfectly sculpted body. “I do.”
He lowers himself so his cock is pressing at my body. “You want to feel my cock, Talia?”
“Yours. Just yours,” I breathe. “Yes, please. Just you. Right now.”
His eyes flash and some expression passes over his face, something so brief I can’t identify it. He growls something I don’t understand, and bends down to kiss my lips, hot and fierce. I run my hands over his arms, shoulders, everywhere I can touch. Our tongues play together and as we kiss, he pushes his cock at my entrance, teasing me.
I arch upward and shift trying to open for him, allow him easier access. Still kissing me, he reaches down with one hand to touch me. Then he pushes into me, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated. I’ve never felt fuller, and it’s amazing. His cock fits me so perfectly even before he starts moving. When he does, though, holy fuck. I thought I remembered how it felt, but I didn’t. This is so much fucking better in real life than in my imagination.
“You like that?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. Anyway, I don’t think I can give one because I’m caught up in the sensation. He knows how to move because he’s gliding in and out of me, pressing against my clit and my G-spot in turn. Because he’s so big and thick, he’s also pressing against some part of me I can’t even name, another spot that’s driving me wild, something deeper, each time he thrusts hard.
His expression is fierce over me, his eyes wild, his hair falling into his face, sweat beading on his brow.
I don’t usually watch during sex; I think (I can’t think right now) that I usually maybe close my eyes? But I can’t look away from his face, his expression, so feral yet so possessive. Passionate and tender at once. Exultant with ownership.
He grabs my legs and pulls them up and to the sides, holding me open as he fucks me, over and over. His touch on my thighs, my calves—stroking, grabbing—owning.
It feels so good, and his easy dominance excites me further. Something about him using his strength to control me, move me where he wants, melts me into pure need. I lost all inhibitions long ago, and I cry out, little gasps and sighs of pleasure, letting him know with my voice and body how I love his touch.
A new orgasm grows, even more powerful than the last, and I’m eager to beg now.
“I want to come,” I whisper, as he pumps me hard enough to move my entire body.
“Wait for it,” he orders, reaching down to stroke my clit, even as he pumps me. “I want to enjoy fucking you first for a while.”
“I can’t.”
But I can, and I want to. Edging is one of my favorite ways to play; letting the feeling grow until it’s inescapable, inevitable, like fate, like a storm, is addictive.
“Of course you can,” he chides me. In. Out. Stroke.
I pant. “Feels so good.”
“For me too.” He shuts his eyes and tosses his head back on top of me, and I catch my breath, watching him work my body. He’s so perfect, so gorgeous. Human, yet not. Like a Greek god, but better. So fucking handsome. And right now all mine. Mine.
I grab my hair, all spread out on the bed and squeeze my eyes shut, seeing bursts of red and orange, glowing lights into infinity.
“Dane,” I whisper.
He knows what I need, and he’s ready. “Come,” he says, an exhortation, a demand. “Together, right now.”
And we do, both of us. At the
pinnacle, I cry out just a little bit, because this orgasm is so immense, so glorious, that I almost can’t breathe.
***
“You’re going to fall asleep. Let me just get the cover.”
I blink and roll over. “I’m not sleeping.”
He laughs. “Okay. You weren’t snoring, either.”
I sit up and widen my eyes. “I do not snore.”
He puts up a hand. “Oh, I’m sure the sound was just my neighbor. Power drilling.” He checks the alarm clock. “You know, at one am.” When I open my mouth he smiles. “Kidding. You don’t really snore. Just little breathy sounds.” A beat. “I like it.”
“Oh.” I look around. “I…”
“Here.” He hands me a t-shirt and boxers. “You can wear these to sleep, although I was hoping you’d prefer to be nude.”
“I might.”
“You can use my toothbrush.” He hands me a glass of water.
“Wow. That’s pretty personal.” I drink deeply. “I’m honored.”
“No. I am.” He sits beside me. “Talia, that was amazing.” His voice is low. “Thank you.”
“Do you typically thank someone for sex?” I joke because I’m not sure how to react.
“When it was like that, I think you do.” He puts his hand over mine. Squeezes. “I’m glad you stayed.”
“So am I.” I press his fingers with my own. I don’t know what’s going to happen. We didn’t agree on anything tonight except that we’re attracted to each other. And I’m still probably angry at him underneath this passion.
But for what it’s worth, I’m starting to care about Dane, even though I can’t see a way for us to make this really work long-term.
Chapter Twenty-One
Talia
“Talia that’s amazing.”
Lem’s voice is bright and cheerful like the morning. We’re sitting on a bench in Edgewater Park, watching the lunch crowd rush past us to various cafes across the street.
It’s hard to come back to reality. After my amazing time with Dane last night, he cooked for me. We talked more about our lives. General things, nothing related to the birds or the construction, almost as if we had tacitly agreed to focus on other things. Get to know each other as individuals apart from this issue.
And I liked him even more. I don’t know what the future holds, but I want to see him again.
Lem bumps my arm. “Did you hear me?”
“I did. Just thinking.” I smile.
“I bet.” She snorts. “But tell me more about Hector. So what’s the deal with him?”
I had told her a little bit about it, and now I launch into the rest of the story. Explaining about how he didn’t disclose his condition and was injured, and how Dane is trying to help him.
When I’m done, she sighs. “Wow. That’s pretty serious stuff. But it looks like Dane is really trying to help him.”
I nod. “That’s what I thought. And it makes everything so complicated.”
“I’m sure.” She touches my hand.
I feel a presence behind me and the hairs on my neck rise up. I turn abruptly to see Mark standing behind our bench. “Mark?”
He clears his throat. “Talia, Lem. You two here for lunch?” He flushes. Looks away. Now that both Lem and I have quit, it’s awkward to talk to him. But I know it was the right thing.
I stand up and cross my arms. “Yeah. Are you…” I frown. “How long were you standing there?”
“I just arrived. Meeting some people for a meeting.” He rubs his eye. “There they are. Talk to you later.” We probably won’t, although I know he said it out of habit.
He looks both ways, then crosses the street. Goes up to the steakhouse, the one that’s usually patronized by snobby old-guard businessmen. It’s next to the Thai place that Lem and I prefer.
“Hey. Are those the city council weasels?” Lem leans forward to stare. “I recognize what’s his name.”
“Yeah, that’s Aaron. And Michael Boyd. Why is Mark meeting with them?”
“I don’t know. Weird.” Lem tilts to look around some passersby. “I didn’t know he was into politics.”
“He’s not.” My mind races. “I don’t know what he’s up to.”
“Maybe trying to tell them something about the cranes?”
I shake my head. “Don’t know.”
“Hmm. Well, he’s not our concern any longer. So let’s head into our café.” She stands up. “And I want to hear all about your sexcapades.” She giggles.
I roll my eyes. “Only if you tell me about you and Bae.”
“Deal.”
***
“Talia. Got a minute?” Janice gestures me into her office. “Shut the door.”
I just arrived back from lunch with Lem, and it takes me a second to readjust to work. To her request. “Sure, of course.” I enter and look at her curiously.
She waits for me to sit, then says, “Congressman Michael Boyd contacted me.”
“Oh?” My heart starts to race.
She gives me a look. “He asked if you were doing all right in your job.”
“Why would he ask that?”
She shrugs. “He said, based on your past issues, he just wanted to see how you’re doing. As a friend.” She clears her throat. “Is there something I should know?” She raises a brow.
“No, nothing, and I resent the implication.” I lean forward. “I don’t know what he means, but the only thing that should matter to you is the work I do.”
She looks at me for a second. “He asked if your reputation is clean.”
“He’s just being a jerk.”
“What reason would that be?” She cocks her head. “Look, Talia, I’m concerned. I don’t know what he wants, but he wants something.”
“I don’t know.” My pulse pounds and I feel my face getting hot. “I need a second.”
I get up and walk to the window. Take a deep breath as I look out at traffic.
“So what’s your relationship with him?”
I turn back to her. “I don’t have one. I mean, he doesn’t like me since I wrote those articles last year about the election. He didn’t think he was covered fairly, and I’m sure you remember him complaining about the liberal media and fake news.”
She nods. “Baseless wind. Yes. I remember well.”
“But apart from that, the only exposure I’ve had to him recently is when I ran into him at dinner.” I frown. “And then again in the city council zoning meeting.”
“Well, be careful. And he pointed out that you’re on the Earth First Environmentals’ membership team. I didn't know that, Talia.” She crosses one leg over the other. “I was under the impression that you volunteered there from time to time. Didn’t realize you also were a member.”
“I was. I’m not anymore. I resigned.”
“Because having you write the articles about the birds and also being a member of that, it could possibly be construed as a conflict of interest.”
“I find it hard to imagine that people would care. It’s sort of a weak link.” I cross my arms.
“We need to be impartial reporters, Talia. Especially if we have people like Michael crying about liberal media and fake news. It’s critical to be as separate as possible. If you’d told me, I would have asked someone else to write the article on Danton.” She raises an eyebrow.
I take a deep breath. “This is getting blown out of proportion. Michael is stirring up trouble for some reason. I don’t know what the reason is.”
“Well, from now on, even if you’re off the team at Earth First, I’d like you to stop writing anything about Danton. Just to be on the safe side.”
“Fine.”
She stands up. “And everything is okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
She looks at me evenly. “Just checking.”
“If you have something to say, then say it. We know each other well enough.”
“Michael insinuated something about prior substance abuse.”
&n
bsp; Blood rushes in my ears. “There’s nothing there. I don’t have anything like that.”
“Good. All right.”
***
This day isn’t getting any better or any easier.
“I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.” Michael gives me an unctuous smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I have the feeling nothing reaches his eyes, except the reflections of money and power.
I look at him and say nothing.
He laughs. “I found out that Danton Carter Corporation, home of your paramour,” he puts emphasis on the word and does air quotes with his thick fingers, “isn’t as enamored of you as you might have hoped.”
“Just say what you came to tell me.”
We’re in the lobby at work, my real job; now that I’ve quit the volunteer activities I only have the one office to call home away from home. Michael called this morning and told me he had urgent information for my eyes only. Although I can’t stand him, there was something in his voice, a note of triumphant glee, that made me anxious enough to say yes. I’d talk to him today. But I have my phone in my pocket set to record the conversation. Something about his voice made me think I should watch myself.
We’re sitting in the same chairs where I talked with Dane, but this time I’ve arranged my position so neither my knees—nor any other part of my body—are in danger of contacting or coming within inches of his.
He leans forward and his shirt strains at his shoulders. Beefy, going to fat, still muscular. I think I remember talk about him being a football player in college. I can see it. Too bad he hasn’t kept himself up, though—his face is red again.
“The point is that Danton has information on you and he’s planning to release it.” He smiles, confidently. Like he owns me or something.
“What do you mean, release it? As if it were a jailed dissident in a communist country?” I act cool, roll my eyes, but a sick spire of nausea spirals through my gut and up into my throat.
“You’re funny.” He adjusts his body. “Things about your past. A stint in rehab, apparently. Your arrest records. All of your activities with the non-profit.”
I suck in my breath and go dizzy. Pretend I’m not. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Some of this stuff is pretty personal. You sure you want it out in the world?” He smiles.
Hammered: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Hard n' Dirty Book 5) Page 15