Early Sins (Dangerous Games Book 0)

by Jennifer Bene

  “Camille…” he growled and she smiled at him before he tugged her hand away and kissed her hard. His fist found her hair again, holding her to him as he pulled her ass to the edge of the table, lined up, and then thrust inside her in one smooth movement that made her gasp against his lips. Stretched, full, and so fucking good.

  Smith.

  “God, you are perfect,” he whispered before his tongue met hers again and he started to move. Each thrust was slow and measured at first, letting their kiss continue, her arms wrapped tight around his back. Moans started to slip out as she struggled to maintain it, but then his hips began to meet hers harder and harder. With a muttered curse he broke the kiss and used all the power in his strong body to deliver a sharp thrust that made her dig her nails into his back through the shirt. Sparks of wild and uncontrolled pleasure started to spiral through her, her hips rocking against his to meet him with each resounding slap of skin on skin. Suddenly, he pressed her back to the table, and lifted her hips. The new angle seemed to have his cock nailing that place deep inside that made her thighs shiver. It had her back arching off the table, gasps escaping her lips with moans as she tried to hold back, to hold on, but it was impossible.

  Too much, too much, too much.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She cried out as the orgasm rose up, swallowing her in fire as every inch of her lit up in agonized ecstasy, and she tightened around him, clenching him in waves as she came.

  “C!” Smith growled and joined her, his cock kicking as he spilled inside her. They were both breathing heavy as he leaned over her, his elbows landing on either side as she wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him right where he was, still buried to the hilt.

  “That was… fuck,” she whispered as his weight settled over her.

  A soft laugh rumbled from him as he pressed kisses across her shoulder, trailing them up her neck until he found her lips again. Soft, nipping kisses that sent her thoughts whirling away from her like ash on the wind. “You are incredible,” Smith spoke against her mouth before picking up the kisses again, and then she parted her lips and their tongues met once more.

  Slowly he lifted himself up from her, jade eyes meeting hers and for a moment she couldn’t believe it had happened. Finally. When he kissed her once more and stood completely, slipping from her and starting to tuck himself away, she just watched him. It felt like if she took her eyes off him it would all disappear, and she’d wake up, with them in separate beds, wondering why she tortured herself as she sawed her wet thighs together.

  “Come on, beautiful. Up.” He took her hand and tugged her off the table, her balance wavering in the heels again as her soaked thighs quivered. A crease formed between his brows and he moved closer to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before he cupped her cheek. “Be honest with me, are you okay?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” She grinned and he rolled his eyes above her. “Sure you don’t need to cuddle or something?” Turning around she reached across the table to grab the gun and he brought his hand down in a stinging spank across her ass. She stood up straight, shocked, to find him grinning at her.

  “Don’t think that I’m going to start going easy on you.”

  “Did I ask you to go easy on me?”

  “No, C. You never have.” He sighed as she pulled the dress up to slide the gun home in her holster, smiling as she realized the holster was damp. “Ready to face these rich imbeciles one more time?”

  Camille whined, groaning under her breath. “You’re kidding right? I’m not even wearing underwear.”

  “I know you’re not, I have them in my pocket.”

  “You’re fucking with me.”

  Smith finished tugging his jacket on and then he stepped close, leaning down to run his lips along her jaw before he stood up just enough to meet her eyes. “I absolutely have your underwear in my pocket, and as entertaining as it would be to have you sit at that fancy dinner soaking wet, slowly forming a puddle under you in one of their elegant chairs...”

  She swallowed slowly, her pussy clenching tight as the low growl in his voice rumbled close to her lips.

  “I’d much rather go back to the hotel,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  His smile was slow as he held her chin in place. “Round two.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Camille woke up hot, and it wasn’t just from the overwhelming temps of summer – someone’s arm was draped around her. Panic washed through her like cold water, and with a jerk she shoved herself upright and away from the too-warm body in her bed. That was when the world seemed to tilt sideways.

  Smith.

  His eyes snapped open and he sat up fast, bare-chested with the sheet pooling around his waist. “What? What is it?”

  She blinked, rubbing her eyes for a minute as the night before replayed. The gala, the hallway, the incredible sex in the meeting room, and then they’d come back to the hotel and he had stripped her and kissed and licked every inch of her before fucking her twice more.

  Smith had been beyond perfect. Treating her like someone important, special – beautiful.

  “Nothing. Just not used to having someone in bed when I wake up,” she muttered, and he laughed, lighter and freer than she’d ever heard him.

  Smith lay back against the pillows, and yawned. “You and me both.”

  “You’re hot.”

  “You think so?” he asked, a devious grin spreading across his lips. She went to smack his shoulder but he caught her wrist like the fucking ninja he was.

  “I mean you’re sweaty.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he kissed each of her knuckles in turn. “So are you.”

  “Right.” Rolling her eyes she went to get out of bed, but he tugged her back and in an instant he was on top of her.

  “Who’s trying to run now?”

  “I’m not running, and if I remember correctly I had to literally knock you on your ass to get you to even admit you wanted me.” She tried not to moan as he pressed his hips between her thighs, growing wet at just the memory of the night before.

  Twining their fingers together he held her to the bed gently, propped up on his elbows above her, those pale eyes staring down at her. “I’ve wanted you almost since the day I met you.”

  “Almost?” She tilted her head, questioning him, and he kissed her softly, nipping her bottom lip.

  “Almost.”

  He went to kiss her again but she dodged him. “Wait, then when did you decide you wanted me?”

  “C…” Smith groaned and she tugged one hand free and rolled them so she landed atop his waist.

  “Tell me.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Because I want to know!” She shoved at his chest and he sighed. “Come on, don’t be a dick!”

  “Fine. It was a few months into your training. You weren’t skin and bones anymore, and we were sparring on one of the roofs. I hit you hard and swept you… and you went down.” He reached up and brushed her cheek. “I was worried I’d pushed you too far, I could tell by your breathing that you were about to cry – and then you just stood up. Wiped your hands off, and gave me that death glare like I didn’t scare you at all.”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  “I know.” His hand shifted into her hair and he pulled her down, speaking against her lips. “But I should.”

  She kissed him, because he was probably right. There was no question that she was stronger than she’d been back then. More powerful, more skilled, more deadly – but Smith was all that and more. Yet, she couldn’t make herself fear him. “I’ve wanted you since the first night. When I saw you fire the gun.”

  “You just wanted the gun.”

  “I wanted the gun.” She kissed him again, before sitting up and trailing a hand down over his hard chest and his carved abs. James Bond meets male model for sure. “But I wanted you too.”

  “I’m pretty sure you were way too young for me, especially then.”

&nb
sp; Camille rolled her eyes. “Are we really back to the age thing?”

  “You never answered me.” Smith grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off him, leaving her on the bed as he stood up. Damn, even his ass is perfect.

  “Why are you making it a thing?” she asked, because she wanted this to continue. Wanted to watch him walk around naked all day long.

  “Don’t pick a fight, C.” He stretched and started to scoop up their clothes off the floor, cleaning up the room like the neat freak he was.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight.” Smith turned and met her eyes, her dress over his arm was obscuring his hips, but she looked him up and down anyway. Enjoying the view that he might take back when he learned there was a decade between them.

  “I’m eighteen.”

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath and she couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

  “Are you cursing now?”

  “You’re clearly a bad influence on me.” He growled and threw the clothes onto the other bed, the one she’d been sleeping in before last night. “But that means when I met you, when you were on the streets, you were… what? Sixteen?”

  “I was almost seventeen -”

  “Jesus Christ, Camille!” Smith turned away from her, his voice strained.

  “It’s fine, I’ll be nineteen in November. That’s a few months away. Just calm down.” Sighing, she crossed her legs on the bed.

  “Wait, how old were you when Steve and Joe and those other bastards – Jesus Christ – you… DAMMIT!” He roared and slammed his fist into the wall beside the television, a smear of red left behind as he spun and shook his hand out. Camille suppressed the urge to flinch when he spoke the names – because all of that was in the past.

  Those names had no power over her anymore.

  “Smith,” she spoke loud enough to be heard over his muttering. “Come here.”

  “C, I can’t -”

  “Do not fucking pull this on me. Come here.” Holding out her hand, she waited. His eyes tracked to her outstretched fingers, and back to her face, pointedly avoiding the fact that she was still completely naked and in his bed. Even though it was irritating, she waited. He needed to sort out his own head, and she’d gladly fucking help him if he would sit his ass down and listen.

  Finally, he moved towards the bed and sat down on the very edge, forcing her to crawl forward so she could reach him. This time she only reached for his hand, and he let her take it. The one that had two busted knuckles from the wall. She brushed her thumb across his fingers, just under the swipe of blood and she leaned closer to him.

  “Are you going to talk to me, or are you just going to brood?”

  “What they did to you…” He flinched and looked away from her, but she held onto his hand when he tried to pull it from between her fingers.

  “It happened.” She shrugged, and for the first time it actually seemed like it was in the past. Like it wasn’t something waiting just on the other side of the darkness of sleep to swallow her whole.

  Because of Smith.

  “You can’t just brush it off like that, C. You were a kid, you -”

  “Survived.” Reaching up she turned his face towards her, and saw all the same pain she’d seen in his eyes the night before when he’d tried to pull back from her, but they had crossed that line and there was no going back now. “That’s what you told me yesterday, right? I survived. I’m not that girl anymore, Smith. You made me stronger. You proved to me that I could be this person, be strong and kick ass and be a fucking ninja like you when I need to be.”

  A smile flickered over his lips. “I am not a ninja.”

  “Sure, whatever.” She tugged on his hand and he turned towards her a little more. “You need to fucking listen to me, because this is the last time I’m doing this shit with you, got it?”

  “Are you ever going to watch your mouth?”

  “Not a fucking chance, Smith. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes.” He sighed and met her eyes, and she cupped his face so he couldn’t turn away.

  “You are not a monster.” In an instant he tried to pull away from her, but she swung her leg over and straddled him, holding him down by her presence alone because she knew first hand he could just pick her up if he really wanted to. “You are not a fucking monster, Smith. You are absolutely nothing like them. You are good. You saved me. You showed me what I was capable of, who I could be – fuck, Smith – you’re not a monster at all, you’re my fucking hero.”

  His breath stilled in his chest as she said those words. It was all he’d ever wanted to be for her. It was why he’d kept his hands to himself, why he’d kept his eyes glued to the floor or the crossword or anything but her – because he’d wanted to be her hero. “C…” he whispered, his hands landing on the swell of her hips.

  “Please don’t fucking argue with me, I don’t know what else -”

  He silenced her with a kiss, letting his hands move up her sides and when her lips parted he took the offering and their tongues met. The soft moan that escaped her was perfection, the seal on the declarations she’d made that felt like the most truthful things she’d ever said to him. Leaning back just enough to see her eyes, he whispered, “No more lies.”

  “What?” she asked, leaning farther back.

  “I don’t want you lying to me anymore. Ever. Understand?”

  Her blue eyes narrowed slightly, and her tongue ran over her bottom lip in a way that made his cock kick to attention. She grinned and he knew she felt it against her ass. “What if -”

  A sharp spank made her jump, and she looked down at him slightly wide-eyed. “Ever. Understand, C?”

  “Fine. You’re so fucking bossy. In sessions, at lunch, and now in bed. All the fucking time.”

  “You have no idea,” he growled and lifted her with him as he stood. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her thighs squeezed at his waist to hold on, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to last five minutes – but he didn’t care.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Shower. You said I was sweaty.” Adjusting his hold on her she laughed as he flipped the light on and slid the door to the shower back. Her voice was light, and had a sultry quality to it that he’d never heard before. Camille could be explicitly vulgar, acidic with rage, and quick-witted with her sharp humor – but this was a side to her he’d never experienced, and part of him wondered if she’d ever even allowed herself to be this person.

  “You are sweaty.” She grinned at him as he slid her down his front to place her in the shower.

  “Well, we’re both about to be wet and it won’t matter.”

  “I’m already wet.”

  He groaned and stepped into the shower with her, closing the door a little harder than necessary. His cock was heavy, his pulse already ratcheting up, and he flipped on the water to distract himself. As soon as the spray started raining down, Camille slid to her knees and he hissed between his teeth as she ran her tongue up the underside of his cock, her hand stroking the head as she moved – and then her warm mouth closed over him. When she slid him all the way in, swallowing to move him into her throat in one fell swoop, his legs almost buckled. “C!” he groaned and braced himself on the tile wall.

  She hummed a moan that sent tremors up his spine, and when he looked down to see her blue eyes raised up to him he almost came right then. The little shimmy she made with her hips was all pride as she started to move back and forth, crumbling whatever was left of his willpower with every flick of her tongue and movement of her throat.

  “Camille,” he growled, twining his fingers in his hair, because he couldn’t decide if he wanted to pull her back so he could take her against the wall, or if he wanted her to continue this forever. When he knew he was too close he tightened his grip on her hair and slid from her lips. “Up. Face the wall.”

  “You were almost there.” The sultry tone was back as she stood, but then she wrapped her delicate fingers around the base o
f his shaft and squeezed. “I want to taste you.”

  Willpower, Smith. Pure willpower.

  “Not this time, I want you.” He spun his finger in the air and she turned slowly, the water running over her lithe body. Strong, and brave, and his.

  “Like the view?” She peeked at him over her shoulder, and he spanked her, but she didn’t even flinch. Camille actually planted her hands on the wall and thrust her ass out further.

  “Did you like that?” He asked and ran his hands around to her front, teasing her nipples until they grew hard against his fingertips.

  “Yes…” she purred, bowing her back to press her breasts more firmly into his hands.

  Mine.

  The possessiveness he’d felt the night before when he’d seen that rich bastard flirting with her surged again, and he knew that now that he’d had her – there was no way he could let her go. Her age, her history, her steel inner core that made her impossibly stubborn and incredibly powerful, it was all just more of her, and he couldn’t get enough. “Have I mentioned that you’re perfect?” he spoke softly against her neck and he felt the shiver go through her.

  “Once or twice since last night, but I’m far from fucking perfect.”

  “We’ll work on your mouth.” He tried to sound stern, but it only worked because she couldn’t see the grin on his face.

  “I can get on my knees again and you can work on my mouth all you want.”

  There was no stifling his groan as he slid one hand down her belly between her legs, and when he swiped a finger between her thighs he found her soaking wet. “Do you want me?” he asked, and she shifted her weight from leg to leg, making her hips wiggle enticingly as he stroked her clit.