Duke: Alpha One Security: Book 3

by Jasinda Wilder

  And that was that.

  I’d never had anyone look at me the way Duke looked at me. I’d never had anyone touch me the way he did either, or kiss me that way. The orgasms he’d given me…? They were the most intense I’d ever felt.

  I wanted him.

  Goddammit, I wanted him.

  I wanted to be in bed with him, a string of condoms on the side table, and an entire weekend with nothing to do, nowhere to go, just Duke and me naked together, fucking until neither of us could move.

  My fingers drifted down between my thighs, almost of their own volition. I pictured his eight-pack abs, his pecs, his brawny arms and burly shoulders, the dusting of ginger pubes around his heavy balls, his enormous, cock standing flat against his belly, thick as my wrist and just begging for my fingers to wrap around it, begging for my lips, for my tongue to taste it, begging for my pussy to swallow it deep.

  I could almost feel him, smell him, and sense him. My fingers were flying, the orgasm reaching critical mass.

  “God, Duke,” I whispered. “I’m gonna come…”

  And then, as the orgasm rolled through me, I felt his lips on mine, felt his hand join mine, and felt his fingers take over. My eyes flew open, and there he was, leaning over the tub, naked and real, touching me, fingering me to orgasm and kissing me senseless. I couldn’t possibly fight it, could only fly off the face of the world as his tongue scoured my mouth and tangled with my tongue, could only gasp helplessly as the climax tore through me, my hips flying, water splashing everywhere. Pleasure was a wildfire inside me, and the heat in his eyes made it even better, the feel of his fingers swirling around my clit intensifying the ecstatic rush of bliss.

  I came, and I came, and I came.

  My eyes didn’t leave Duke’s as I whimpered through the orgasm.

  “Say my name again,” he growled.

  “Duke,” I whispered.

  His expression was dark and hot and hungry. “Can you stand?”

  I shook my head, still trembling head to toe. “Not—not yet.”

  He snagged the towel I’d set out on the toilet lid. Reached down, scooped me up and wrapped me in the towel in a single adroit maneuver. Carried me into the bedroom to which the bathroom was attached and tossed me onto the bed. I bounced, and the towel flew open. He lingered for a moment, staring at me.

  “So goddamn beautiful,” he murmured. Then, louder: “Stay there.”

  “Where would I go?” I asked, not all sarcastic. “And besides, my legs are still shaking too much to walk.”

  His smile was pleased, and then he pivoted, vanished into the bathroom, and returned with condoms in one hand and the shotgun in the other. The gun he leaned near the bed, and the condoms he tossed on a bedside table, keeping one square packet in his hand, which I saw he’d already ripped open. This he tossed onto my belly as he climbed onto the bed.

  “Open your legs for me, sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice an irresistible snarl.

  “I—I already came,” I protested. “I just want you.”

  “You’ll have all of me you can take,” he answered, “and then some. But I need another taste of your pussy first. So open up.”

  I had no idea what came over me then, but I snapped my thighs together and smirked at him. “No,” I whispered.

  He stopped on all fours, and then reared back on his knees. “No?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

  I was breathless, then. “Make me.”

  He laughed, then, a predatory sound. “You sure that’s how you wanna play it, Princess?”

  “I’m sure,” I answered, only lying a tiny little bit.

  “I’m not a gentle man, Temple,” he bit out. “I’ve been keeping the beast in check for your sake.”

  “The beast? Is that what you call your dick?”

  His laugh was one of amusement, this time. “My cock doesn’t have a name, but if that’s what you wanna call it, go for it.” He prowled toward me on all fours once more. “It was just a reference to how I like to fuck: rough, wild, and fierce.”

  I shivered at the fire in his pale blue gaze. “That’s what I want. Show me how to fuck like that, Duke.”

  “You’re sure?” He put a hand on one of my knees. “I don’t wanna hurt you or scare you.”

  “Duke?” I said, instead of answering.

  “What?”

  “Shut up and fuck me.” I snagged the condom wrapper off my belly and prepared to tug the thin latex circle out.

  “Not yet,” he said, taking it away and tossing it back onto my stomach. “First, you come again.”

  He yanked my thighs apart, and this time he didn’t do it gently or sweetly, but roughly. Brusquely. He grabbed me by the hips, laying down on his belly half on and half off the bed, and then jerked me to the edge of the mattress. He lifted my ass into the air, smashing his mouth onto my pussy. His tongue assaulted my clit with immediate ferocity, no build up or teasing, just immediate oral stimulation, sending me from still quivery to gasping in three seconds. He didn’t slow, didn’t vary, no fingers, no sucking or licking, just that tongue slashing in wild circles around my clit until I was heaving, whimpering, hips flexing involuntarily.

  He kept it going until I was moaning his name nonstop— “Duke, Duke, Duke…ohmygod, Duke…”

  He seemed to know exactly when I was about to come, because that was when he stopped, slid two fingers into my channel, and started moving them in and out of me. He began slowly, giving me time to warm up to the sensation, curling his fingers just so, exploring the interior of my pussy with his fingers, scissoring them apart, curling, stroking, moving them faster and faster until I was groaning with the slick pressure of his touch inside me, and snarling with frustration because I couldn’t come like this, not without clitoral stimulation…

  The bastard knew my body like he’d designed it himself. He finger-fucked me until I was a writhing mess of arousal and frustration, and then he pushed me past that point, into something like madness.

  “I need your tongue, Duke,” I gasped.

  “Yeah?”

  “God, please, Duke. Please. I need to come, and I can’t. Not without—” A moan ripped through me as he brushed my G-spot, cutting off my words.

  “Not without what, Temple?”

  “Lick my clit,” I begged. “Or touch it. Something, anything. I just…I need…I need to come, and I can’t unless you lick my clit.”

  He slowed the thrusting of his fingers until I was lifting my hips off the bed, slowly grinding, rolling, bucking, begging him with the movements of my body to finish me, to give me what I need. I watched him slowly, teasingly, extend his thumb toward my clit, and I lifted my hips, trying to close the distance, to get that final touch.

  “God, Duke! Stop fucking teasing me!” I shouted.

  “No.”

  He moved his thumb away and resumed the thrusting of his fingers, this time letting the heel of his palm brush my clit ever so gently, and then he increased the pace, and each time his fingers buried into my channel, his hand bumped against my clit, providing the tiniest amount of stimulation, so I was roiling, grinding, groaning, hips flexing wildly, desperately seeking the pressure and stimulation I needed.

  “Fuck, Duke. Please.”

  “Take what you want,” he said. So I slid my hand down my body and touched my clit with two fingertips, immediately gasping in relief—until his hand latched onto mine like a vise and prevented me from touching myself enough to matter. “Not like that.”

  I wrapped my hand around the back of his head and jerked him toward my pussy, lifting my hips to push myself against him. “Eat me, Duke,” I demanded. “Make me come. Now.”

  His laugh was feral with desire and rife with amusement. “Thatta girl,” he murmured, the words vibrating against my flesh.

  And then I was gone, screaming out loud as the long-denied, pent-up orgasm rippled through me like a shockwave, just from a mere brush of his tongue against my clit but he wasn’t satisfied with that, oh no. He added a third finger
inside me and fucked my channel with those thick fingers of his and his mouth suctioned around my clit and his tongue thrashed against me. The orgasm was nuclear, ripping me into a million pieces.

  He pushed me through the orgasm into paroxysms of shuddering release, gasping, shrieking.

  And then he bent over me, kissed me, and pressed the condom into my shaking hands. “Put it on me,” he ordered.

  My eyes flew open. I sat up, slid the condom out of the wrapper, gripped his cock in one hand and rolled the condom down over his shaft with the other. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring at me, his cock straining, now sheathed in thin, studded latex. His jaw flexed, his chest heaving as if he was the one who’d just come instead of me.

  And then he moved with the speed of a striking serpent, flipping me onto my belly so fast I wasn’t sure what had happened until I felt the comforter under my cheek and his hands on my hips. I wasn’t afraid, exactly, but he did say he wasn’t gentle and that he liked it rough, and I’d never exactly done rough before. So yeah, I was a little nervous.

  Okay, fine, I was afraid.

  I didn’t like pain, and I was afraid of what I’d asked for, that he’d want to, like, choke me or spank me until I cried or something. Or that he’d start just fucking me so hard it hurt—

  Instead, he just caressed my ass.

  Slowly, gently, reverently, with both hands, massaging and kneading as I descended from the orgasm.

  And then he slid his hand between my thighs and found my pussy, teased it with a fingertip…god, then finally I felt him touch the tip of his dick to my entrance, but didn’t put it in, just teased, rubbed, pressed.

  “Duke, what are you doing?”

  “Taking my time,” he answered, “and enjoying your body.”

  “I thought you liked it rough.” I tried to hide the quaver of nerves and anticipation in my voice.

  “You that eager?” he asked, leaning over me to put his mouth to my ear. “Or are you nervous?”

  “Both,” I answered.

  “Good.” He nudged his cock between the lips of my pussy. “You should be a little nervous.”

  “Why? What are you gonna do?”

  He didn’t answer. His hands smoothed over my ass again, and then went to the swell of my hips, dimpling the flesh, gripping hard—

  No warning, no gentle slide in, just a sudden slap of flesh against flesh, his cock penetrating me until his hips clapped against my ass cheeks, and I couldn’t help crying out from the unexpected fullness. Oh god…oh my god…he was so big, his cock stretching me apart, filling me until I was gasping breathlessly and clawing at the comforter, legs scything in an attempt to get purchase on the bed, to find a position that allowed me to adjust.

  He didn’t let me.

  I was on my stomach on the bed, the edge of the mattress just at my navel. The bed frame was high enough and I was short enough that this position kept my feet off the floor, kept me off balance and at Duke’s mercy. Just the way he liked it, I imagined. He held me up by my hips, keeping my feet from touching the floor. Withdrawing slowly, he paused when just the tip of his cock was left inside me, fluttered there for a moment or two, teasing us both. He adjusted his grip on my hips, lifted me so my hips were off the bed entirely.

  And then he slammed into me again, another hard, unexpected thrust, the slap of our bodies loud in the bedroom.

  This time, he didn’t slow down when he reached full penetration. I cried out as he slid deep, and then he was fucking me so hard I couldn’t catch my breath, his cock driving into me hard and rough and fast. I couldn’t keep up, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, could only claw at the blanket with shaking hands and take his fucking. Never in my life have I felt anything like the way Duke took me, then. I realized that all the guys I’d been with before had been nervous or drunk, usually both, and always hesitant. Because it was me they were with, and they wanted to impress and didn’t want to assume too much or push things too far, or risk pissing me off; they weren’t fucking me, the woman, they were fucking Temple Kennedy, the celebrity.

  Duke didn’t care. He took me the way he wanted me, hard and fast and rough, and he didn’t hesitate, didn’t worry about how I’d feel about it. He knew he’d already made me come, and knew he could get me to orgasm again so fast it was kind of stupid…

  He took what he wanted, how he wanted it.

  In this case, it was me.

  And, oh god, it was incredible.

  It hurt, but not in a way that made me want to stop. If anything, it made me want more. The way his massive cock split me open and slammed hard all the way into me, pounding my pussy relentlessly…it made something inside me crack open, took the nascent desire I’d always felt, the constant need for sex that I could never quite satisfy, and set fire to it.

  And then, just as I was starting to feel the bubble of orgasm, despite the lack of clitoral stimulation, he stopped, buried deep.

  “Duke—”

  His name was all I managed to get out, and then one of his hands smoothed in a caressing circle over my ass cheek…

  Crack!

  His palm smacked against my ass with sudden force, spanking me so hard my entire body rocked to the side, my ass quivering and on fire.

  “What the fuck!” I gasped, shocked, outraged, and secretly turned on.

  He didn’t answer, only gripped my hip again and released with the other hand, caressed the opposite cheek.

  “Duke, wait!” I cried out, but he ignored me.

  Crack!

  My other ass cheek was now throbbing. He plunged his cock into me once, hard, and I whimpered with the pleasure of his huge, perfect cock sliding into me, and then he spanked my right butt cheek again, fucked into me, spanked the left, fucked…and set a rhythm, a single hard thrust, a spank, a thrust, a spank, until my ass was throbbing and on fire and I was gasping from the breathless ache of it, near tears from the fierce, piercing pain of it, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask him to stop because it was naughty, it was dirty. What he was doing to me was something I’d never dared do, never thought I’d like, something I’d always been too scared to try. Fuck, I’d never trusted anyone enough to let them do this to me. But I just knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that the second Duke sensed I really needed him to stop, he’d stop. No questions asked, no hesitation, no judgement. I didn’t even need to test him on it, I just knew.

  I lost track of everything except the burning aching throbbing sting of my ass and the pounding thrust of Duke’s cock, the crack of his hand across my ass cheeks—

  He stopped abruptly.

  “Duke, did you—”

  He cut me off, once again without words. He lifted me effortlessly, tossed me forward onto the bed, literally tossing me as easily as if I weighed nothing. I hit the mattress, bounced, and rolled to my back, caught sight of him prowling onto the bed after me, huge and powerful and feral, thick cock jutting, slick and wet from my pussy.

  “Duke…god, you still haven’t come yet?”

  He grinned, self-assured, pleased, the grin of a predator with soft, easy prey in sight. “Just gettin’ started, Fancy.”

  “Jesus.”

  “How’s that ass?”

  “Stings.”

  “Good.” He lifted up onto his knees. “All fours, babe. Lemme see how red your ass is.”

  I scrambled away from him—now that I was out of the heat of the moment, my ass was stinging like hell and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be spanked any more.

  He lifted an eyebrow at me. “You gotta trust me to know what you can take, honey. Now…you gonna do what I’m telling you, or do I have to manhandle you again?”

  “Don’t spank me anymore,” I said.

  “I’ll do what I want, and you’ll like it. If I didn’t know you’d like it, I wouldn’t do it.” He grabbed my ankle and hauled me toward him.

  “Duke, I—”

  “Get on your hands and knees, Temple.” He released my ankle, his expression now unreadable. “Show m
e your ass.”

  Normally, I adamantly refused to do anything if it sounded like an order. I did not take instructions, I gave them. No one told me what to do. Spoiled brat? That’s me. The producers learned early on the best way to get me to work with what they wanted was to ask nicely, to butter me up. Not even my parents could order me around. My boy-toys? Yeah, that’s a joke. I told them what to do, got what I wanted from them, and kicked them out. The slightest hint of…well, the exact dominating, macho, me-Tarzan-you-Jane attitude Duke was flashing me right then…and the guy was history.

  No one gave me orders, ever.

  Yet here I was, rolling to my hands and knees, obeying Duke. Presenting my ass to him, baring myself for him, vulnerable, eager to please him.

  I watched over my shoulder as he slid his palm against my ass cheek—I flinched in anticipation, and he shot me a shit-eating grin.

  “Relax and trust me, Fancy.”

  I forced myself to remain still as he palmed my ass again. His touch was gentle, in juxtaposition to the merciless spanking he’d administered just moments ago.

  “Jesus, Temple. You’re…fucking perfect. Have I said that yet?” He used both hands, now, caressing my ass as he had at the very beginning. “Your ass is all red now…even more perfect.”

  “You’ve really got a thing for my ass, don’t you?”

  His lip curled in a snarl. “You have no clue.”

  Duke shuffled on his knees closer to me. Palmed my ass yet again, caressing from side to the other with one hand, and then sliding his palm up my spine. He gathered my loose, wet hair in his fist. At first, he just gathered it up in a knot, and then released it to slide hand down my spine. He fitted the head of his cock to my slit, using both hands to spread my ass apart, and then slid into me in a smooth, slow glide.

  I cried out from the gentle bliss of it. “God, Duke. Your cock feels so good.