by Maya James
It's silly, but my fingers tremble as I punch the code in. I want him and I know what's coming.
We step into the gym and Justin begins undressing us both; something of mine and then something of his, until we are naked. My nipples start to ache, his hands had brushed against them several times while he was taking off my top and bra, and now they're teased and hard with anticipation.
I wonder what he's going to tie me to as he grabs a few things off the wall. My clit throbs as I watch the muscles of his ass work when he walks.
Justin returns and pours a body oil down the front of me, using his other hand to spread it around. He takes his time on my nipples, pinching them between his thumb and fingers. Christ! It makes my pussy gush and throb.
His hand slides down my belly and over my vulva, spreading the oil thoroughly through my folds. I'm so wet there that I don't really need the lubricant. Justin's fingers delve into me and he moans.
"You're so fucking wet already." His face twists up in furious passion like a wolf about to eat.
He practically grabs me like a handle as the oil runs down my legs in streams. He has my G-spot prisoner and that makes him smile. Both of my hands are holding on to his arm, trying to move it in and out of me in a desperate need for release, pushing him deeper inside of me.
More oil runs down my back when he squeezes the bottle again. I feel it running through the crack of my ass and then Justin tosses the bottle to the floor. His other hand follows the oil through my ass and I realize there is something else in his hand. Its stiff rubbery body rubs my anus and begins a gentle penetration.
I grab his hand harder, shoving his palm into my clit, jerking my G-spot off with his fingers. The toy slips deeper into my ass and he twists it gently. He holds me open and I realize he's pushing the other end of the toy into my pussy. It pushes into my G-spot while Justin pulls his hand out of the way, leaving the toy hooked into both of my openings. It doesn't seem to do much else, no vibrations, just a little pleasant pressure.
Justin runs his hungry hands over me, massaging and enjoying every inch. "I love your fucking body so much," his guttural voice rumbles.
His hard cock looks nearly purple at its tip. I fist it and jerk it quickly before he can stop me, sliding my other hand over his chest and stomach muscles, then down to his balls. I move under them, tickling the line of skin to his ass while he groans loudly. Justin throws his head back in ecstasy and I lean forward to stuff him into my mouth.
Holy shit!
When I move the toy in me pushes and pulls into different areas inside. I wasn't expecting that.
I suck and lick the head of his warm hardness, still jerking it toward my mouth. I want him to unload onto my face while he watches. I want to feel and taste every inch of his body. I'm feeling the frenzy just like he is.
I want it all!
His massive cock swells even larger on my tongue. I dare to move my finger deeper, touching his ass while I suck on him hard, my cheeks pulling in sharply.
Justin grabs me by the shoulders. I knew he wouldn't let me take care of him long. He forces me upright. "Go get me the flogger off the wall,” he demands.
He didn't usually have me go get the toys, but I automatically obey. As soon as I move, I understand why. Christ! My legs quiver. That toy moves and pokes with every step, torturing my G-spot.
"How does that feel?" he asks, teasing.
"Fucking hot!" Each step threatens to start an orgasm. I can't imagine wearing this thing all day, I'd cum trying to get to the ladies room. I retrieve the flogger and walk back to him, breathing in gasps.
Justin has me lay face down on the leather chair with all the hooks. He doesn't fasten me to it, so I just lie still and wait. The stiff leather strings of the flogger run along my back and over my ass. They tickle the backs of my thighs and knees, even the bottoms of my feet. He grabs the toy stuffed into my warrior openings, his fingers brushing against my heat, and carefully removes it, getting it out of his way and replacing it with his fingers.
They begin pumping in and out of me, stabbing wonderfully at my pleasure zone. My body pulses with him and it makes my head tingle. His thick legs are now straddled over mine with his beautiful cock pressed into the calf of my left leg. He rocks himself, fucking my oily flesh in unbridled passion.
"You're going to make me cum too soon," I warn.
Justin laughs. "No—I won't. I'll make you cum exactly when it's time, just like I always do." Then he snaps the flogger on my ass as punishment for doubting him.
The leather straps keep coming, stinging my cheeks until I know they must be glowing red. The intense tingle follows gravity and slowly drips downward into my heat and mixes with his furiously busy hand. My breath is short and quick as if I'm trying to keep up with his pace, and my G-spot must be swollen because I feel like my sensitivity has tripled and the two fingers he has in me feel more like three or four.
"GOD!" I growl and beg. "You're so fucking good Justin. You're just so fucking good!"
His hand shakes my entire body, the sight of it drives him crazy. His hardness still rides my leg, while the flogger gently tickles the tender flesh of my back.
I can't take much more. Physically, I'm there. And mentally I've been there for hours, ready for him to release me. My internal warrior begs to let out her battle cry.
Justin pulls his hand away and throws the flogger. I hear it skidding away on the floor as he moves himself, pressing his hot stiffness through my cheeks and thighs to find my dripping and begging opening.
There's no struggle. He slides deep into me with a delicious, animal growl, the wide tip of him perfectly locating my screaming spot. His hips pound me, rocking my body in tremendously rapid succession. I call out in pleasure and my voice is broken by him into quick, moaning chops.
Justin spreads himself out over me; his comforting chest on my back, his arms covering mine. I can only thrust tiny inches back toward him to meet his fierceness.
I know he's ready to cum because he's breaking my warrior. She starts her battle cry. It moves from deep inside my chest to my stomach, sending heaving throbs to my pussy.
"I'm cumming, Justin! I'm cumming for you."
His hips find the strength to go faster. "I want you to explode, Charity! Let go for me!"
I listen to what he tells me and I explode as he drills me. Wave after wave of orgasm ruptures as we both shout together; cumming together, my pleasure and his twisting and mixing, our bodies sliding with sweat and oil as we drain ourselves.
My face is half buried into the chair but I feel his next to mine. His grunting and convulsing slows before mine has even begun to subside. "Keep cumming, Warrior. Keep cumming because I'm not done with you yet.”
This climax has no end, or its ending and new ones beginning so fast that I cannot sense the difference. His huge cock hasn't softened at all, nor had it slowed.
"Christ!" I shout.
"Christ!"
"Jesus Christ!"
I punch viciously into the chair, praying for it to end and praying for it not to. Finally, I begin to catch my breath only in the slightest way. Justin feels it, hears it happening, and suddenly he's off me.
He grabbed me by the legs and flipped me while my orgasm is still thundering to a close. I land on my back and watch as he throws my legs over his shoulders.
Justin face crashes into my soaked heat. There's no concern if his own cum is dripping from my folds. His strong mouth sucks my swollen clit inside to his hot tongue. His hands each slide up my slippery body to my breasts, squeezing them, rolling my nipples between his fingers.
As always, he knew what I didn't, that another kind of orgasm is sitting right at the edge ready to leap off, desperate to be pushed. His hard tongue swirls and stabs at my exposed tip.
And I howl!
My fingers dig into the chair. I'm holding on for dear life, trying my best not to fuck and hump his face away. I want this orgasm—I demand it.
Justin sucks me harder, pulling my c
litoris further and further between his lips. The beautiful pressure finally rips my orgasm out.
My screams are silent. I feel my cum gush from me, flushing the mix of our fluids down his wet chin.
I arch completely off the chair, riding his mouth, jamming my pussy on his face.
I really don't give a fuck about anything right now except this climax, about his magic, talented mouth. I ride it out completely; until my voice returns, until my gushing stops and until my vaginal muscles can no longer contract.
Justin licks me until I'm too sensitive to be touched at all. Then he unfolds his arms from my legs and brings his proud face up near my beaming, satisfied smile.
His chin is covered in us. Before he has a chance to wipe it clean, I grab the hair on the back of his head and pull him closer, jutting my tongue out and licking his chin clean while I stare into his stunned eyes.
I feel his still hard cock jump on my stomach and I reach down and take it into my hand. My climax has turned him on again, fueled him.
Justin isn't fighting me now. He lets me stroke him, lets me push him to his back on the floor and climb over him. One hand jerks him off, the other cups his warm sack, playfully rubbing his flesh.
I look into his eyes longingly as I devour his hardness, letting him watch it disappear through my lips until my hand is tapping against my own face.
Justin's breath quickens minutes later. I squeeze his balls lightly, ushering him to fill my mouth. My hand spins around and tugs the root of his huge manhood and I stuck hard on him.
"Oh God!" he moans. "Oh God! Oh God!"
He's there again and after what he did for me I'm only happy to return the gesture.
"I'm cumming!" he growls. His hips thrust despite his efforts, but I know his body now too, and I ride his thrusting cock with my mouth until his heat spills into my swallowing throat.
Like me not long before, Justin slows into a softening, twitching, and very satisfied glow.
CHAPTER XV
"So what's changed, what do we know now?" Franco Cecere asks as he leans himself against his black E350, right beside John Roberts.
Justin adjusts himself to get comfortable as they stand between the cars in a far, dark corner of a parking garage that Justin owns in Hoboken. The way sounds bounce off the walls and the dim lighting reminds me of when I first came to the city and Justin had me in the garage of my hotel, sprawled out across the hood of an Alfa Romeo.
That seems so long ago already, a lifetime. Maybe it was about time for us to do that again.
Garrett is still in the truck with me, sitting in the front seat where he is fully visible to everyone. They're not nervous by that at all—if he's with Justin, he's okay.
Lena and I are in the back, more obscure by the tinted windows. They know someone is back here, but they can't see who. That's fine too. They have their own people around most of the time, they get it.
"A few things," Justin replies. "For sure, we finally know who their candidate was."
"Was? Past tense?" Mr. Roberts asks smartly.
Justin nods. "Still could be—if we're not careful. He's still in play, just not for them."
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Mr. Roberts snarls. "They wanted Lewis, didn't they?"
Justin nods again. "Looks like they were figuring out his gambling problem about the same time we were. They saw Senator Wilkins' slot opening and they were one step right behind us."
"So," Franco barks, "we got him first, that means game over, right?"
John Roberts laughs. "Fuck no, it ain't game over, not with Arthur Shea. The game changed, that's all. We made it easy, we did the leg work to get Lewis exactly where they wanted him. They're probably even opening doors for him already, getting ready for when he's theirs." Mr. Roberts crosses his arms over his chest in aggravation. "Once they found out someone already owns Lewis, their plan would simply change, let us get him in—then get rid of us."
I glance at Lena because we know what's coming next. They don't have to kill everyone in the group, just us, just the security, unless we get theirs first. That's all this has become, a race to see who can kill who first.
"You need to be watching your back, JP," Mr. Roberts says.
Justin smiles. It's not condescending at all, more appreciative for the concern. "Always," he replies.
"So we're back to where we were months ago," Franco growls. "Bail out and let them have him, or find out who they're using for security and get rid of them."
"I think we know who they're using, not specific names, but close enough. We just need to find out who's at the wheel," Justin informs them. Mr. Roberts perks up, tilting his gaze into Justin's face as he waits for the rest. "We've tied Bill Canon to Dr. Drake Rutherford. Blake Adams shows up with the doctor recently as well."
"Finally, a name I know," Franco says. "Dr. Drake is a retired CIA profiler. They use him for authenticity research on TV and in movies. That's how he makes a living now."
"Not recently," Justin says with darkness in his tone. "Lately he's been helping the CIA again, working at their academy profiling their students. Best we can tell, Arthur Shea brokered that arrangement for him. It looks small and unassuming, like a little internal record keeping. He finds people that might be a little too much for the CIA so he can redirect them."
Franco shrugs as if wondering why that matters.
"Think about it," Justin offers. "Where do you think guys like that go, guys with all that training and military background, but are hard to control? Dr. Drake has a solid list of candidates for Shea to build his own trained army. They can hand pick members trained with the specialties they need—CIA trained soldiers."
"Shit!" Franco says nervously. "Are you sure this is what they're doing?"
"A few names have already been confirmed," Justin tells him.
Mr. Roberts laughs confidently. "Franco, why the fuck do you look so scared?"
Franco looks embarrassed. "CIA trained soldiers?" he defends.
Mr. Roberts laughs again. "Where the hell do you think Mr. Collins here gets his men? You think he takes out an ad in a local mercenary’s magazine or something? His soldiers have the same training, plus experience—not just some training school rejects."
I see Justin smiling proudly.
"You got this?" Mr. Roberts asks Justin directly. Justin nods confidently yet again. "Good enough for me. So, tell me, what do you need from us to help?"
Justin tells Franco and John Roberts that he wants them to do nothing for now, business as usual. If Shea's crew is riding our coattails to develop Senator Lewis, we can do the same. He wants to play dumb and see what doors open for Lewis before we end this. With Arthur Shea's political weight, it would be to our advantage.
"That's dangerous as all hell, JP," Mr. Roberts says, sounding nervous for the first time that I can recall. "They're going to try to take you out. The longer you wait, the more chance they have."
Justin shrugs. "That's true, but what do you want more, a Senator, or a President?" John Roberts is silent. "How many Vice Presidents do you have in your pocket to help get Lewis the exposure he'll need to speed this thing up by years?"
"You're going to gamble with your life?" Franco asks.
"Isn't that what you need and pay for?" Justin fires back, making both of them silent for a few minutes.
I see that they are nervous and greedy at the same time, but I'm only nervous. All I want to do is scream for Justin and Garrett to end this fucking ride now. They wanted a Senator and Justin got them exactly that.
"Okay for now," Mr. Roberts says at last. "But just for now. Any hint that they are on you and I want this fucking thing done. You understand me?"
Justin agrees, but that doesn't make anyone feel better, especially not me.
"How is Lewis doing?" Franco asks, desperately wanting to change the subject.
"Great!" Justin tells them. "He keeps himself under his limits better than I thought he could. I think it's because he knows we're watching. If it was his own money, it wou
ld be gone already and he would be screwed, divorced for sure and out of politics by now. We've given him something to work for."
They talk for a little while longer but I find it hard to listen to any of it. My anxiety has swelled behind my control, and I'm full of worry. There is no life without him and he needs to be done with this work soon. Only I can't be the one to tell him that; I don't want him resenting me. Justin gets back into the truck eventually, and we watch Franco and Mr. Roberts drive away before he starts the engine.
"Everything went well," he tells us. He turns and focuses on Lena for a moment, some unspoken conversation takes place right in front of Garrett and I. "We got everything accomplished that we wanted to."
She agrees and we leave the garage.
We had just pulled out, the sunlight filing the truck through the windows. "Did you see it?" Justin asks.
"Yes," Lena answers. "Silver Chevy about a half a dozen cars away."
"What about it?" Garrett asks curiously, looking back and forth from Justin to Lena like a tennis match broke out.
"It's a plant," Lena explains. "A transmitter listening to our conversion and sending it on. Right now there's one or two in every garage Panther has on the books."
"You knew? You knew they were listening and you still let them know how much we know?" Garrett asks in a very confused voice. "Why would you let them know that we're onto them?"
I have the answer already. "Because they know who we are and what we do. They know what we are capable of, so if we try to pretend like we don't have anything by now, they'll know its bullshit. If we're any good at all, which we are, then we should have something by now."
"Exactly!" Justin agrees. "So they know we're on to them but they also believe we're not going to do anything about it for a while."
"The only way that works—and we gain an advantage—is if you're not planning on waiting like you said. We need to hit them much sooner then they're expecting," Garrett says confidently.
"What about letting them raise Lewis's popularity, we're not doing that?" I ask when I see Justin nodding like he's planning exactly what Garrett is suggesting.