MineToBreak

by Joely

  His shoulders bucked up beneath her. Testing her strength. If she softened, he’d have his hands on her in a second, likely rolling her beneath him. Everything he’d do with a vanilla woman in the throes of ecstasy. Wrapping her hands around the bars of her bed, she bore down harder on him and began moving on top of him. Riding his face, letting his shoulders rock her. He managed to spear his tongue inside her a few strokes, until she pulled back a moment to make sure he could catch his breath. His chest heaved beneath her, every muscle and ligament standing out in stark relief beneath his taut skin. It took every ounce of his strength and determination to keep his hands where she’d told him.

  It’d be so easy for him to throw her off. Ignore her command and seize her breast in one of those powerful hands. Flip her off to the side. He could be balls-deep in a second. And yeah, she wanted that too—but in her time. Not his.

  He didn’t have to lie beneath her like this. He allowed her to have her way with every inch of his magnificent body. That, more than the friction of his whiskers against her tender skin or his tongue on her clit spiraled her lust higher. He could have refused. He could have fought. He could have denied her.

  But he didn’t. He allowed it.

  So many people thought submission made a man whipped. Weak, emasculated, humiliated. Some men definitely got off on that. But for her, the ultimate submission was exactly this. A strong, powerful man who chose to allow her full access. Who denied himself in order to please her.

  Such an incredible man.

  Shuddering, she came again, grinding her clit harder against his face, even while she managed to reach back and yank the bow loose on his cock.

  He heaved up beneath her, dislodging her back onto his chest.

  “Fuck,” he roared out, rolling his head back and forth on the pillow. “Mal, please, for Christ’s sake.”

  Panting, she worked the belt off. “What do you want, soldier boy?”

  “Let me fuck you.”

  His words sent another wave of lust thundering through her. He didn’t demand his own pleasure. He didn’t make a statement of his needs. Even with blood flooding his restricted cock, he still managed to ask, let me. Not I want.

  “Go for it, sugar.” His eyes popped open, his biceps bulging even more if that was possible. One last desperate grip on the bed in case he was mistaken. “Show me how good you can fuck. Give me all you’ve got.”

  Chapter Six

  Panting, Colby flipped her on her back and rose up to his knees. Blood pounded in his skull like a jackhammer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so painfully hard. On the verge of release, trembling with the need to sink deep inside her.

  It should have felt great, but instead, a black pit loomed deep in his belly. Dread. Fear. He’d have rather faced off against a whole squad of terrorists without a single weapon than fail her now. His fingers trembled so hard he barely managed to get the condom on, sweat burning his eyes. Any second now, the erection would fade. He’d feel this terrible, overwhelming need and be completely unable to do anything about it. This gorgeous, sexy woman would look up at him and the fire in her eyes would inevitably fade to disappointment. Pity. Maybe even ridicule. He’d seen it before. He—

  Pain cut through the vicious twirling thoughts. Sharp enough he sucked in a hard breath and bit back a yelp.

  Mal set her nails deeper into his thighs and this time he couldn’t hold back the shocked gasp. Plenty of women had scratched him before, but it’d been in the midst of mindless pleasure. Not with the calculated, deliberate intent to cause pain. It shouldn’t have surprised him, given all he knew about the Mistress of Dallas. Of course she’d like to deal pain. He’d seen the evidence. His brain just hadn’t made that connection to him. How she might use it in bed. She hadn’t brought out the whips and shit, so he’d mistakenly assumed he’d be safe.

  He’d somehow managed to forget that she was the Mistress of Dallas.

  “That’s better.” Her voice was husky, rumbling with the languorous timber of a lioness settling down to feast. “Get that dick into me and get out of your head.”

  His brain stuttered, unable to process her words. Again, he’d had plenty of women talk dirty to him, but not with Mal’s directness. She said what she meant and meant what she said and if you hesitated even a moment in executing her command, she snapped. Not with words or anger. Oh no. This time, she leaned up enough to sink her teeth into the fleshy part of his forearm. And this was no love bite. She bit like a predator determined to bring down her kill. The kind of bite that broke her prey’s spine and sent him crumbling down on top of her. Exactly as she intended.

  Gripping skin and muscle in her jaws, she bit down harder. Bruising him, maybe even breaking the skin. It hurt enough the muscle spasmed and flinched, which only seemed to turn her on even more.

  And him, evidently, because his cock twitched and pulsed against her. Sliding in her wetness. Hungry and seeking her entrance as if it had a mind of its own. Determined to get inside her as she’d ordered. It was easy to slide into her, balls deep. No faltering. No fumbling. No frantic pumping with his own hand trying to maintain enough of an erection to penetrate. It was easy. She was easy.

  No, hard. She bit so hard. Releasing his arm and moving up to his shoulder now that she had him closer. His trapezius burned and throbbed. The side of his neck. She wouldn’t leave hickeys. She left bruised rings of teethmarks. Somehow that pushed him over the edge. He lost his mind, lost control of his body, as if everything inside him detonated without warning. He became one giant muscle quivering with effort, straining so hard that everything went black.

  It took him a few minutes to become aware. To realize he was sprawled out on top of her without any effort to spare her his weight. Sweat burned his eyes. With growing horror, he realized he’d probably come way too quickly—yet again—while sweating like a pig who’d just run a marathon. And then like a pig, he’d collapsed on top of her and smeared that sweat all over her while squishing the breath out of her.

  Yet damned if he could move. He couldn’t even seem to lift his head.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered against his ear. “You’re good. You’re safe.”

  Shame burned through him and he quivered. A strangled sound of desperation rose in his throat. He wanted to throw himself off her and beat the shit out of something. Quick. Before he sobbed like a baby.

  She nuzzled his ear and sucked his earlobe between her teeth. At least a gentle nip this time, not those predator bites. “I feel like I should be apologizing.”

  Hadn’t he said the same thing earlier? She laughed softly and he finally got his brain to communicate with his muscles enough to lift his head. He didn’t dare try to talk, for fear he’d break down into a babbling idiot.

  “I forgot how much I love to bite. I’ve gotten away from it over the years using other toys, but there’s no easier way for me to give pain than teeth and nails.” Her left hand roamed up and down his back, sliding on sweat-slicked skin that probably should have grossed her out, but she looked up at him with a languorous heat in her eyes that he hadn’t been able to inspire in a woman for quite some time. Sated, for the time being—but that heat promised she’d be interested in round two again as soon as he could manage it.

  If I can manage it.

  “You will.” Her lips quirked in a knowing smirk, though he hadn’t said the words aloud. “I have no doubts. Not after that.”

  But… but…

  Maybe he’d actually burst a vein in his head when he’d climaxed so hard, because he couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Even in his own head.

  She leaned up and rubbed her lips against his, drawing his attention back to her. “You did exactly as I wanted. You obeyed to the letter. You were able to climax. So what’s the problem?”

  Was there a problem? He blinked several times, hoping that if he focused his eyes better that his brain would follow suit.

  Mal lowered her lashes and stuck out her lip in a playful po
ut that seemed shockingly out of place on a feared Mistress—but also so very right. “Didn’t you come hard enough, sugar? Maybe I need to do some more convincing.”

  His head was jerking up and down in a nod before his brain caught up.

  Laughing, she pushed on his chest and rolled him off to the side. He helped as much as he could but his body still seemed to be in shock. He breathed hard, as if he’d been running for miles, and his muscles quivered, exhausted, like he’d done every weight-lifting exercise he knew in a matter of minutes. Maybe I did.

  She propped an elbow on his chest and stared down at him, still grinning. That smile was worth a thousand bites and all these confusing, turbulent emotions. He’d put that smile on her face. He’d made her come. She was pleased—not disappointed—in his performance. Even though it seemed like a very strange way to get him there.

  Her fingers twirled a circle on his shoulder. “Ask me.”

  It took him a moment to realize she was tracing one of the bite marks. “It…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “It was good for you?”

  “No.” Something in him shriveled up and died when she paused. Until she looked up at him and he saw the darkness in her eyes. A need to hurt and conquer and bring him to his knees. “It was great. Was it good for you?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. It was good, yeah. He’d managed to come for the first time in months. Years. But it still didn’t seem… right. It didn’t seem too smart to admit it to her, but he did anyway. “Yes… and no.”

  She nodded, not offended in the slightest. “Some things I try will work, and others won’t. But figuring out what makes you tick is what makes this so fun.”

  Maybe for you. It took all his will not to avert his gaze, afraid she’d see the doubts rumbling around in his head.

  She huffed, not angry or exasperated, exactly. More amused in a wry slightly disgruntled way. “You don’t really want me to know what makes you tick. But you’re not thinking about that when your dick is hard.”

  “It’s not you. Not at all. Evidently I don’t even know what makes me tick. Not any more.”

  “Experiences do change us. You’re going to want different things from different people. Other than the obvious, what do you want from me?”

  Now it was his turn to let out a disgusted grunt. “Evidently I want you to bite the shit out of me.”

  She pressed her fingers a little harder against her bite. Hard enough he felt the tenderness in the muscle beneath his skin. He’d have a few bitchin’ bruises to boast of tomorrow. If he dared show anyone. “If you’d rather I drag out a flogger—”

  “Nope, biting’s cool,” he said quickly, making her snort again. “Totally hot, actually. Bite a hunk out of me anytime.”

  She leaned down and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. Holding his gaze, she pressed her teeth into that tender flesh. Not too hard—but enough his eyes widened and his heartbeat quickened. And yeah, his dick stirred again. Releasing him, she settled down against his chest as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Certainly not interested in his growing erection. “I’m going to get you to try some of my toys eventually, sugar.”

  He fully expected his erection to flee in terror. He’d never been interested in any kind of kink before. Not even in a wet dream. But with the Mistress of Dallas in his arms…

  She leaned up and deliberately stared down at his fully erect cock. Then with a smug smile, she reached over to flip the lamp off, dropped her head back to his shoulder, and snuggled against him. “That’s what I thought. Go to sleep, sugar. We’re done for the night.”

  Her breathing evened out, but he couldn’t sleep. He never did, at least not for long. It was enough to hold her against him and marvel at what she’d already accomplished. And hope, maybe, just maybe, she could do it again.

  Chapter Seven

  Walking into the precinct the next day, Colby could only think of John Travolta strutting down the street to Staying Alive. Elias saw him coming and groaned so loudly that everyone in the room looked up. So Colby put a little more swagger into his step.

  “Somebody got laid last night,” Elias said in a morose tone despite his own liberal amounts of laying that he was undoubtedly getting now that he was engaged to Vicki.

  Rather than sitting down at his desk that faced his partner’s, Colby plopped down on the corner of Elias’s desk and snagged half of a sandwich.

  “Hey, I was eating that!”

  He grinned and took another bite. “Vicki’s been feeding you really well.”

  “Yeah, I know. That was leftover from yesterday and was supposed to be my breakfast.”

  Colby winced and made a mental note to be sure and pick up the tab while they were out. Elias hadn’t given him shit about his eating habits, other than a casual, damn, son, why are you dieting so hard? Which he hadn’t been dieting. He just couldn’t eat much. Until Mal set him straight last night.

  “So I see you survived unscathed.”

  Grateful Elias changed the subject, even to something that could get personal real quick, Colby shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and moved over to his chair to sort through the waiting stacks of paperwork. “More or less.”

  He didn’t look up at his partner, but he could almost see Elias’s eyebrows rising with curiosity and speculation. “I figured you’d come in limping not strutting like a cocky rooster.”

  “She’s a…” Colby glanced over to the nearest person and while Brown wasn’t looking at him, the guy was listening very hard. Elias knew what he would have said anyway. Mistress. I’m dating a Mistress. Domme. Dominatrix. What the fuck are you doing? “Not a prize fighter.”

  “You look good considering you went toe-to-toe for twelve rounds.”

  He hadn’t felt this good in… He couldn’t even remember. He’d slept. Actually fucking slept. For almost five hours.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this rested. He was ravenous… and he’d been able to eat the sandwich. Even leftover chicken salad with soggy bread tasted like ambrosia.

  His analytical side remained skeptical. Surely one night with a Mistress couldn’t have changed so much. Mal shouldn’t have had such an impact on him. Yet he felt like he’d crashed their police cruiser so hard that it’d flipped half a dozen times. In fact, he could easily imagine hanging upside, trapped in the seatbelt, with the car upside down in the ditch.

  And he felt great anyway. Relaxed. Hungry and rested and ready to go again. Not miserable, injured, or worried about being trapped.

  Elias stood and waved a file at him. “Let’s go. We should’ve left thirty minutes ago.”

  Nodding, Colby opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out one of his spare ties. He’d barely had time to get home and shower this morning. At least he’d still had a clean shirt in the closet. He grabbed the suit jacket draped over the back of his chair and followed his partner outside.

  It wasn’t even April yet and it was fucking hot. He wouldn’t last more than hour before he had to strip the jacket off. Brass really preferred all the detectives to look the part, but most days it was too damned hot in Dallas to wear a suit and a tie all fucking day. He followed Elias into the convenience store next door instead of waiting outside like usual. A super large coffee with cream and sugar, and a giant bear claw would tie him over a bit. Cop jokes about the donut shop aside, he’d really missed the shot of caffeine and sugar that helped with those long hours and little sleep. He waited at the register for Elias to come up with his hot dog loaded with onions and relish and an energy drink. The lady ringing them up didn’t bat an eye at a hot dog for breakfast. She’d been working here next door to the precinct longer than Colby had been in Dallas and already seen it all. Colby paid for everything and they headed down the side road to the parking lot in the rear.

  Elias waited until both car doors were shut and they’d both snapped their seat belts before beginning the interrogation. “What the hell did she do to you?”

  Colby pause
d with half the donut already shoved in his mouth. “What?”

  Eyes narrowed, Elias watched him eat the rest of the bear claw in a matter of bites. “You heard me.”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “Don’t give me that shit. I haven’t seen you eat in months, and you just demolished a donut the size of a dinner platter in three bites.”

  Colby shrugged, but Elias wasn’t buying it. Unfortunately, his partner had the instincts of a pit bull crossed with a piranha. He smelled blood in the water, and wasn’t letting go.

  “So Mal waved a magic wand and all your issues suddenly disappeared?”

  Colby narrowed a hard gaze on him. “What the hell do you mean by issues?”

  Elias’s eyes widened for a split second and then he laughed like Colby had just told him the dirtiest joke he’d ever heard. He started up the car and drove off the rear lot, merging into light traffic. “Yeah, right. You don’t have issues. My bad.”

  “No, really. I…” Colby started to say, “I’ve been hiding them—pretty damned well, if I do say so myself.” Hadn’t he?

  Elias cast a quick side glance at him. “After riding with me over a year, do you honestly think I’m that blind? You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You exercise like a mad person. Some of the guys have even muttered about steroids for you to bulk up so much. Doesn’t help that you’re… twitchy. Like you’re on something. And your temper isn’t the best. That’s why you get to play bad cop all the time.”

  Fuck. He’d never done drugs in his life. Never suspected that the people he worked with day in and day out had the slightest suspicion. “Who started that kind of rumor? Rodgers? I’ll fucking kill that bastard.”

  “Oh, yeah, because talk like that helps so much. Look, don’t worry about it. I’ve had your back and always will, but you’ve got to be careful. One bad report from an eye witness, or a roughed up suspect, and both our asses will be on the line. The LT has already told me to keep you on a tight leash.”

  And here he’d thought he’d been doing so great. No one had as many collars as him and Elias. Not even close. Until recently, when his partner had hooked back up with his woman, they’d both worked nonstop. He’d been going places. Elias was going to sit for his lieutenant test soon, and Colby would move up to senior detective in a couple of years. Moving on up in the world, or so he’d thought. Maybe the senseless grind of fighting to keep drugs off the streets would finally lighten up a bit. Or better yet, he’d move on to some new position entirely.