by JA Huss
“I know your type,” I say, leaning in to whisper the words into her ear. She sucks in a breath of air and a chill spreads across her neck, making her skin prickle up. The tiny, soft hairs just below her hairline are standing on end. “You’re a control freak. You took martial arts to maintain that facade. You run that women’s empowerment class to spread your brand of control to others. And to be a leader. You like to lead, don’t you?”
She stays silent, which pleases me immensely, because it means she took my command seriously.
“Don’t you?” I ask again.
And again, she reads me correctly. Because she answers. “I just know my place in the world, that’s all.”
“And what is your place in this world, huh?” I ask, taking my hand away from her neck so I can tenderly stroke her cheek with my fingertips. “The one we live in tonight.”
She stares up at me, her eyes wide again. Still filled with desire, no fear. “To play your game until one of us wins.”
“Really? Are you sure you wanna play? I’m a formidable opponent.”
“Very. Fucking. Sure,” she says. And now her eyes are slitted, almost closed. And it’s not with desire. It’s with clear defiance.
Which almost makes me laugh. Because she gave in and challenged me back in the same breath.
I like that, I realize. I like it a lot.
I have no clue how we got here or why we’re doing this, but whatever. It’s fun. So I don’t really care about the how or the why. I only care about what comes next.
I take both her hands and place them near the button of my pants.
She doesn’t require clarification and she pops the button open without comment, her eyes never leaving mine as she unzips me, reaches inside to grab my cock, and begins to massage it until I feel myself grow under her touch.
I close my eyes. Barely a blink, but I allow myself to enjoy the moment.
She stays quiet. At least with her voice. Her eyes, her expression, the movement of her hands—those all speak to me in a way that doesn’t require speech.
I fondle her tits again, this time gently, and smile at her. There’s no need for dominance and submission roles when partners are playing the same game.
I don’t even need to encourage her further. She lowers herself to her knees, pulling my cock out as she descends, her eyes on mine, and opens her mouth.
I’m fully hard by this time. She’s… I sigh… perfect. Like fucking perfect. Like she’s done this before. Like she knows how to control a man by giving in.
Is she controlling me?
But I don’t have time to think about it, because just as that question pops into my head, she swipes her tongue across the tip of my cock.
I long-blink again, smile as I enjoy one more moment of pleasure, then open my eyes just in time to see her take my cock fully into her mouth.
Words aren’t necessary. It’s something I’ve learned over the years through practice with other women. When two people are living in the same world, playing the same game by the same rules, you only need to react.
Which is what I do next when I grab her by the hair and give her the encouragement she needs to take me deep into her throat. She opens her mouth wide, gags a little, which makes me react again, easing up on my demand. But she doesn’t pull back. Instead she reacts to my submission, sucks in a deep breath of air, grabs my thighs with both her hands, and presses herself up into my groin until my balls are pressing against her chin.
Jesus.
Now that is what I call control.
She pulls back, saliva spilling down her chin, and starts pumping my cock with both hands, using her own spit as lubrication.
Looking up at me, she smiles.
I smile back. “You,” I say, “are not how I saw this day ending, Issy.”
She shrugs, smirking. “It’s a good game. So far.”
“Oh, Ms. Grey. We haven’t even begun yet.”
She stands up, her hands still busy on my cock. But then she pulls away, and her slick hands find her own breasts and begin to massage them. She lifts one breast up towards her mouth, her lips parting, bringing her nipple closer, closer until…
I almost come just watching her tongue sweep across the peaked bit of flesh and swirl around the small, slightly darker circle of skin that surrounds it.
I can’t stop myself. I grab her tits and lift them both to my face, burying myself between them.
Her hands slip behind my neck, her long fingernails scraping against skin, sending a chill through my entire body.
“I think I need you naked,” I say, looking down at her. “Now.”
Her fingertips find the waistband of her trousers and one small jiggle later, they find their way over her curves and drop to the floor. She steps out of them, kicking them aside as she kicks off her shoes. And now she stands before me wearing only thigh-high stockings attached to a sexy garter belt. No panties. Just the belt.
“Jesus.” I say it out loud this time. “What the fuck?”
She smiles. Knowingly. Coyly. “You like? Or not?”
“Oh, I like,” I say. “I like very much. I just…”
“Didn’t expect me to be… what? Seductive underneath all that control?”
“Did you wear this for Jordan?” I ask.
“What?” She looks confused, which is cute on her.
I touch her hair, unable to resist feeling her softness. Such a surprise. “Jordan Wells. I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day. And hey”—I throw up my hands—“I’m not usually a guy who takes advantage of a woman after a crushing breakup, especially when said breakup occurs on V-day, ya know? But fuck it. I don’t give a shit. His loss, man.”
“You think I’m dating Jordan?”
“Well, you’re obviously dating someone. And you had dinner with him tonight. At the very sexy little tea room across from your work. So…”
“So what? That means I’m fucking him? He’s my lawyer.”
“OK,” I say, hands in the air. “But if you didn’t wear this for him, then who?”
“Well, I’m with you, aren’t I?”
Avoidance. Which annoys me. So I say, “Hey,” taking her chin in between my thumb and forefinger to tip her head up to me. “No-talking rule is still in effect.”
She shrugs. Which is her silent way of saying, You’re the one who brought it up, asshole.
I forgive her attitude. I mean, obviously she’s lying. She might be willing to play this little game with me tonight, but emotions are off limits. And I’m one hundred percent on board with that.
I started this day with too many emotions, filled with dread and an overwhelming desire to be alone. Wondering if I had any purpose at all. Wondering if coming to Denver was a mistake. Wondering if my whole life was a mistake.
But this woman brings something worth experiencing to the table. Her background is mysterious and seductive. Her small, curvy body is tantalizing. And the things she can do with her mouth… overwhelmingly entertaining.
I say, “Just so you understand. The kind of sexual ride I like to take comes with a dark underbelly. I like to lose control a little. I like to walk the edge. I like to push limits and create havoc.”
She stares up at me, blank. Then a coy smile creeps across her face. A smirk, like she knows things. She says—breaking the rules—“Is that a warning, Special Agent Murphy?”
“Take it any way you want. I’m just letting you know… there’s no point to pleasure without a little panic.”
CHAPTER FIVE - ISSY
“So you’re what? An adrenaline freak? A risk-taker? You thrive on fight-or-flight options? You like stormy waters and calm winds drive you crazy?”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me. And stop talking.”
“Hey, you’re the one who opened up this whole line of questioning.” I’m acutely aware that I’m standing in front of him wearing sexy stockings and pretty much nothing else. I’m also acutely aware that his cock is spilling out of his open zipper, hard and straight, the tip red a
nd swollen from me sucking on it, and glistening in the dim light coming in from my front windows. “And you’re obviously worried about the kind of freak flag you fly, because you figure I deserve a warning before we go any further, is that about right?”
His eye twitches. Most people would miss it. I’m not most people.
“Warning heard, challenge accepted and hey,” I say, shrugging. “It’s just a game anyway.”
This time he cocks his head a little, like he’s confused. “Is that what this is?”
“Oh, come on.” I laugh. “I mean, yeah. So let’s just—”
“Wait,” he says, one hand in the air like he’s about to stop time. “Are you fucking with me right now? Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Why did you invite me in? Why did you allow me to take off your clothes? Why did you suck my cock?”
“Look, I’m not much of a talker, OK? Let’s just fuck to ease the tension a little and then you can take me wherever it is you’re gonna take me. I mean, it’s getting late. Can we just get this show on the road?”
He laughs. “What the fuck—”
“Exactly,” I interrupt. “What the fuck? Are we gonna do this or not?”
“Do what?”
I sigh. It’s a loud, thoroughly annoyed sigh. “Are. We. Going. To. Fuck?”
He stares at me for one more second, then grabs my shoulders, spins me around, and pushes me face-first against the wall as he leans into my neck and whispers, “Just remember you were warned.”
I whisper back, “There’s no point to pleasure without a little panic, right?”
One hand is between my legs before I even stop talking, his fingers probing my pussy, searching for the sweet spot. And when he finds it, I close my eyes and relax.
I’m gonna enjoy this. I do not give a fuck who he is. In fact, I doubt he’s even an FBI agent. He’s an actor, right? This whole game is nothing but an act. And I need this fuck. Like right now. So I can forget about the dry spell I’ve been in. So I can come, get it over with, and then be at my best when he finally takes me to the club to fulfill my sexual fantasy.
That thought alone is enough to make me moan. But when you add in the fact that his fingers are now pushing up inside me—
“Yes,” I say. “Yes.”
He keeps quiet, which is perfect. Because I’ve had enough conversation for the night. All I want now is action.
He presses his hard cock into my back. “You’re small,” he says, noting—like I do—that there’s no way he’s gonna be able to fuck me from behind standing up. I’m too short. This has always been a problem for me. Kinda sucks too. I mean, even on my tiptoes, his cock will still be inches too high to enter me like this.
He lifts up one of my legs, improvising, because he gains entrance to my pussy and puts me off balance so I have to rely on leaning into his arm, which is pressed firmly against the wall on the side of my head. But then he goes one step further. Lifts me up, off my feet completely, pushing my face into the wall to keep me in position, and his cock slides inside me without resistance.
Clever, clever Finn Murphy.
I’m gonna kiss Chella tomorrow. I mean, yeah, I put up a fight over this stupid game of Jordan’s, but hell, it’s like… it’s like having someone take care of your most intimate needs. It’s kinda perfect.
Finn nips the tender skin behind my ear, his mouth soft, his breath hot. He says, “You like that?” just as he presses his hips into me, pushing his cock fully inside.
“God, yes,” I say back. “More. Fuck me harder. Faster. I need it.”
He chuckles as he takes his kisses to my shoulder and then he lifts up both legs, making me steady myself with palms flat against the wall, and starts the pounding.
I have never been fucked like this in my life.
His balls are slapping against my pussy with each determined thrust. His big, fat cock is buried deep inside me one moment, but with each backwards motion, he withdraws almost completely. Making me feel empty. Making me crave him for those few seconds when he’s not stretching me open. Making me long for the friction that will bring me to climax.
“Brace yourself,” he says, changing position slightly so his hips are almost underneath me, so my top half is crushed against the wall and my bottom half is practically sitting on his cock. He buries himself even deeper inside me—so deep, I let out a gasp from the pain. “Shhh,” he says. “It’s not time to panic yet.”
I agree. That wasn’t a cry of panic. It was a cry of pleasure.
He’s thrusting upwards now, my ass directly above his thighs as he fucks me hard. Harder than I’ve ever been fucked before. His breath is quick, and loud, and he’s grunting in a low, throaty way that makes me close my eyes and just… disappear into the ecstasy of the moment.
“Yes,” I say again.
“Your stockings are so fucking sexy.”
“No talking,” I say, reaching around to grab a fistful of his hair.
He doesn’t respond. At least with words. But he does stop fucking me.
I peek over my shoulder. “Don’t even think about it,” I say.
“What?” he asks. And I catch a glimpse of a charming, boyish smile appearing on his face.
“If you stop—”
“If I stop… what? What will you do, Issy Grey?” He leans in to bite the outer edge of my ear, which drives me wild. Like sends a shiver through my entire body. “Will you kick me out?”
“No,” I say, nearly breathless. “I guess I’d have to just… submit and do what you want.”
“Why?” he asks. “Because I’ve given you a taste of my magic cock and now you realize you can’t live without it?”
It’s a joke. And normally I’d banter back with him. Have a few laughs. But I’m not in the mood for laughing. I just want to come! So I say, “Yes,” instead. “Yes. I need your cock, Special Agent Murphy. I need all of it, I need—”
He pounds me. He fucks me so hard my cheek crashes into the wall with each forward thrust. My legs are trembling, the muscles tired of the exertion of keeping myself balanced on top of him. My arms are shaking too, exhausted from the effort of stabilizing my body as I am fucked from behind, completely lifted off my feet.
His large hands are gripping my thighs and I feel his fingers digging into my flesh—tearing at my expensive stockings. Ripping them so he can slide his fingers under the silky nylon and feel my skin.
And then he lets go of one leg, which puts me completely off balance again. I’m about to protest because my body is spent, my muscles taxed to their limit.
But that’s when his fingers find my clit. He begins to rub me. Back and forth so quick, I want to die. “Oh, shit,” I manage to squeak out, just as the warm liquid spills out of me and I squirt all over his fingers.
That’s it.
I come.
I come so hard my whole body begins to convulse. Sounds escape my mouth that defy description. Moans, and squeals, and shouts of, “Fuck yes! Don’t stop!” and, “More, more, more!”
He slows his thrusts until there’s nothing left of me. Until I disappear. Until I cease to exist in any world other than the one of post-coital afterglow.
And then he drops my other leg, pulls out, presses his large hand between my shoulder blades, and pushes me to the floor.
I bend low, my head pressed into the hardwood floor of my foyer, my ass high up in the air, as my fingers find my clit and begin to rub.
He spills his come all over my back, the heat of it making me climax again. His moans match mine. Low growls of satisfaction.
Then he bends down, uses my blouse to wipe off his come, and gathers me up in his arms.
He carries me across the room. I don’t even open my eyes to see where. Can’t open my eyes to see where. But then he sinks onto my couch, me in his lap, and relaxes back into the cushions.
“That was fun,” he says, nearly gasping for breath. “But we’ve got somewhere to be, so…” He slaps my thigh. Hard. Ha
rd enough to make me cry out from the surprise and pain. “So let’s clean up and get on the road.”
“I don’t wanna,” I say, turning into his chest, burying my face in the crook of his neck.
“You’re not in charge anymore, Ms. Grey. I am.”
“How long?” I ask.
“How long what?” he says. His voice is low, but not throaty like it was a few minutes ago. It’s soft, and calm, and completely devoid of panic.
“How long will you stay with me? Just tonight?” It might come off a tiny bit desperate, but fuck it. If you can’t be needy in the wake of this kind of sex, when can you?
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“The game,” I say. “I’m so fucking sleepy right now. Can we just enjoy this and finish the game tomorrow night instead?”
“What?”
I open my eyes, sit up a little so I can look at his face. “Are you gonna make me spell it out?”
“Spell what out?”
“The game,” I say, getting very irritated. “You know, the one we’re fucking playing right now!”
He cocks his head at me. “What. The fuck. Are you talking about?”
“Oh, I get it.” I laugh. “You’re not gonna break character. OK, whatever. So you got a place in mind for tonight? I mean, if this is my one chance, I gotta take it, right? So I really hope you’ve got this all figured out and I don’t have to make decisions because that was kinda the whole point in playing.”
He pushes me away from him, leans back in the cushions even further, and stares at me. Hard. “You mean… the safe house? How the fuck—”
“What? Safe house? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The safe house. I’m supposed to take you to the safe house in Silver Springs.”
“Why the fuck would I need to go to a safe house?”
“Uh…” He laughs. “Because you were involved in a drug bust tonight that resulted in you being questioned down at the Federal Building. Not to mention the terrorist connection that came in afterward.”
“This is…” I’m so confused. “This is part of the game?”
“What fucking game? I have no clue what you’re talking about.”