by Michele Hart
His dark eyes danced over her mouth, and he bit his bottom lip and scraped it through his teeth, making darkness infiltrate her. “Mostly crimes of passion. Just two days ago, I made a woman scream half the night.”
Elissa leaned her head back against the wall, instantly weakened with the memory. She’d cried out until her throat was dry. “You should get what you deserve for that, you beast.”
She slid down the wall until her face was even with his hips, his hard erection reaching out for her. She wrapped her hand around his thickness and stroked him slowly, raising more groans from him, louder than earlier expressions.
“I think I’m starting to figure out if you’re a good cop or a bad cop, Officer Baker,” he muttered low, his voice throaty and passionate. “From the looks of our positions, you’re really good at being a really bad cop.”
She moved forward and gave the head of his cock a soft, long caress of her tongue, and Greg shook above her, his head thrown back.
Then she pressed the tip of his rock-hard cock into her closed lips, pressing him into her mouth, listening to the long seething of air rushing into his lungs, his body stiff and quivering just a little, his groan making her ache inside.
She took him into her mouth slowly, soaking in his every reaction, every tensed muscle making her wetter. The taste of him salty and such a turn-on, she sucked just a little, seeing and enjoying the evidence that she could give him the same intensity of pleasure he gave her. His groan made her throb.
She slid her hand up the back of his thighs and rode the curve of his fine ass, pressing him deeper into her mouth. When she pulled upward, she sucked just a little all the way, bringing out masculine murmurs of her name. The look on his candlelit and hair-tossed face portrayed the most agonizing pleasure, and the sharpest thrill ran through her to know she could put him there, a place of ecstatic pleasure at her control.
Elissa ran her fingers through the black hair at the base of his cock as she took him in, exploring him and causing him new moans that built a drive for him like starvation. She listened to his expressions, backing off when he was near his breaking point and making the torture last forever.
Her thighs were on fire to feel him there, sweating, burying all that hardness inside her. The vision of it, his hips slamming into the backs of her thighs, made her suck harder. She broke into a sweat so close to the furnace of his body.
Suddenly, Greg’s hands came down from the wall and bit into her arms, lifting her upward and putting her against the wall, cutting short her thorough investigation of him. His eyes were on fire, his breath rushed, his grip firmer than playful.
“That was a close call. It almost went off. It would have if you’d kept playing with its hair trigger like that.”
Then he kissed her hard, his body pressed against her, his tongue invading her mouth, ravishing her like a starving man. Her hands came up to his chest instinctively, and he captured them until he’d sated himself for the moment with her kiss.
Greg stepped back and he held custody of her wrists.
Elissa snickered, enjoying her loss of power. Every alpha male-thing he did sent her into realms of bliss. “You weren’t supposed to take your hands from the wall, you womanizer.”
Greg smiled, made more glorious by candlelight. “I’m the robber. It’s my job to crawl through your window and pleasure you until you’re delirious. I can break rules all I want, just gives you the excuse to push me around all you want.”
He released a smug snicker. “You’re the cop, Officer Baker, but I think you’ve already blown the good cop label.”
“Blown …” She giggled, and he managed to keep a straight face this time.
“Good cop, bad cop, doesn’t matter. Right now, you’re the woman I want to madness, and, like the savage beast I am, I’m going to take advantage of the situation.”
He pressed her palms together, just one of his big hands able to subdue her wrists. She wasn’t about to slip his captivity. It excited her enormously to anticipate his next move. Greg tugged her onto the bed, giving her a sensuous kiss hovering over her.
Then he arrested a wrist and as he tied one leg of the pantyhose around her wrist with a easily slipped knot. As he did, she sent her free hand to capture his hard cock and slide her hand down his shaft. Then he wrestled the guilty hand into a knot with the other leg of pantyhose. He hovered over her, very pleased to have her right where he wanted her. She was bound fairly loose but still captured. It was no guess as to whether she could escape the binding. She certainly could.
“You’re in a lot of trouble, you know.”
Everything about him, flirty eyes, daring hunger, steamed her open for his ravishment. “I find myself in the hands of a dangerous felon. God only knows what debauchery you have in mind.”
He had her lying on her back, her hands bound over her head to the headboard, wearing only her bra and panties. She began to shake just a little, partly for the mystery of what he’d do. She did trust him not to hurt her. Still, she shook inside.
“You’ll make the Most Wanted list for this, Moretti,” she threatened sharply. She felt a moist fire between her thighs.
“Oh, I’m going to put myself on the top of your Most Wanted list, Officer Baker.”
His big hand swept her red hair from her face in a tender gesture, then he placed another sweet and tender kiss to her mouth that seemed potent with meaning.
“I want you to trust me, Elissa. I’m going to show you, you don’t have to hide any part of you behind a security system of vague replies, unanswered questions, mysterious past. And if you do, give me the security code.”
Elissa’s heart moved in pain of the stab. Suddenly it wasn’t about how silly they could get while naked. She couldn’t give him answers that could jeopardize her future cases in the area. She’d worked to stay anonymous in Tampa Bay, had moved like a shadow through a year of school. She’d blended into the background of every class, kept no social ties. She’d been invisible. She couldn’t give that up for a month-long affair with the most handsome man she’d ever met.
“You can slip those knots,” Greg said, his expression back to puppy-dog sad eyes, “if you don’t want to give up control to me. But until that moment, I’m going to hear you say my name in a plea to end your torment.”
And he ripped back into his naughty smile. “But only if it’s fun.”
They shared a wicked giggle, and she tugged her hand forward, intending to run her fingers through his silky black hair … to remind her he’d bound her to the bed.
Elissa giggled again. Anticipation multiplied through her to the state of heating her body again. She swore to herself she’d postpone the begging for as long as possible.
Greg rose, and she watched him stroll into the bathroom—he had the best ass on Earth—and return with the scissors in one hand and the bottle of toffee body spray in the other. She’d long lost control of her smile.
Greg placed the scissors on the table, and then he straddled her hips, his wild smile making her flutter.
“What are you going to do to me, you despicable outlaw?”
He refused a decent answer, just unbuckled the front clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts. They perked at the splash of cold air and stood attention at the mere implication of his gaze.
Then he took the scissors and cut away the small elastics of her panties. Leaving the cloth in place, he ran a finger over the folds of her clit, wracking her with hunger for his penetration. A lustful gleam in his eye, he looked like a golden warrior above her, taking the spoils of war. His erection was unavoidable.
She wanted to reach up and touch him.
But she was bound. The want to touch him grew inside her, insistent tension winding. Desire for him brought on wetness and ache.
Then he picked up the toffee spray bottle and he gave each of her swollen breasts a blast of the treat, casting little rushes of pleasure coursing through her. She reached up, repositioning her hands to gain the stretch of the stockings, and she
tugged to release a little of the kinetic tension building in her.
The more she tugged, the tighter the knot on the headboard wound, but she had no will to leave, anyway. Elissa did trust Greg not to harm her. And if he did harm her, she could give him a lifelong injury. But that’s beside the fact that she did trust him.
“Every single time I smelled this on you,” he told her, then sprayed a blast on her belly, “I’ve wanted to lick it off, even before I knew it tasted like toffee.”
“I wore it the first night we met. I was undercover then, watching you, Moretti. I’d imagined you were a nice guy.”
He smiled and winked. “I’d imagined having you naked on that tabletop and fucking you so wildly, the table banged into the wall with every thrust.”
Elissa’s mouth dropped at the picture of it, her body reacting to his every tantalizing word and action. “You imagined that the first night you met me?”
Greg blew on the toffee mist on her belly, launching a fresh rash of goose bumps over her panty-clad body, then he cracked an evil smile. “Maybe. I have some suggestions on how you can extract that confession, Officer Baker. I’ll tell you if you promise to use it against me. In a court of law, in the pool, in Rubia’s employee break room after hours.”
She smiled at his ability to incorporate law enforcement metaphors into the play. It tickled her. “You’re pretty good at this,” she said, and meant it for so many subjects. His every touch stepped up her tension and want of him.
Then he descended on her, sucking a nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth over it, causing her to cry out from the rush of lightning. He did the same to her other breast, sucked the toffee taste from her flesh, and stirring tsunamis redoubling through her. She shook from the tension, pulled at the stockings to discover the sexy meaning of the word frustration.
Then he massaged the spray into her flesh with slow thumbs all the way down to the line of her panties, then, his hands wet with the spray, he caressed the inside of her thighs, coating them with the spray as well. She shuddered to imagine him there.
“Make love to me, Greg.”
“You can’t sweet-talk your way out of this, Cop.”
He reached for the scissors, and he cut her bra straps, freeing her of the entanglement of lace and elastic. He snickered when he did it. Then he shimmied the cut panties away from her hips.
His uncompromising stripping of her turned her on enormously.
Then Greg returned to the undercurves of her breasts, and he licked and sucked all the way down until she quivered. His yummy noises sent moisture to her thighs. She was so ready for his conquest and frustrated at how he could draw out every minute into five minutes of hunger and ecstasy. She wanted to touch him in the worst way.
Greg smacked his hand on her hip, and ordered, “Roll over, Officer Baker. I’m going to show you what I do to federal officers who look like you, with your luscious paprika hair, your beautiful eyes, your kissable mouth, your tight body.”
“You’re a beast, Moretti.”
“I’m gonna show you how right you are.”
Elissa trembled with anticipation as he brought her around to her knees and facing the headboard, her back to him. The stocking chafed her wrists in an arousing way.
On his knees behind her, Greg cupped her breasts and fondled her, setting her on fire. His groan and control of her turned her on beyond reason. One hand moved from her breast, slid downward to the nest of curls, and a finger stroked her into a desperate dizziness.
“My, Officer Baker, you’re so wet for being in so much trouble and here you are … with no control.”
Shivering under his power, she tugged on her bonds some more and groaned that she couldn’t turn around and watch him. She had to stay where he put her if she wanted to play the game. And oh God, she wanted nothing more at the moment to lose. To feel his hands and not see him, to wish to touch him and remain unable was damn close to torture. Tension wracked her into shivers.
“You win. Make love to me before I fall apart.”
Instead of answering, he grasped her hips and backed her up until she had to bend forward for the binding, her arms extended to the headboard. His hand moved over her ass and between her legs until found her slick and hot and very wet. He traced through the hair there, and Elissa couldn’t help but whimper and shiver in his exploration until he discovered a trigger of her most intimate areas, stroking her with a steady pressure, using the moisture to explore the folds of tender flesh.
Then he buried his long finger into her in a slow plunge, and he stroked her until she nearly wept, spikes of orgasm shooting through her just with his touch. Her entire body shivered, her breath coming out in fight for air.
Just when she thought she could hold back the moans, he slipped another finger into her, making her cry out again to him stroking waves of pleasure and hunger through her. She tightened around him, sending her into shards of orgasm.
“Greg,” she huffed between his agonizing strokes breaking her down. She remembered to postpone begging but had completely forgotten why. “Make love to me, Greg.”
“Do you want me to, Elissa?”
“You’ve made me need you.”
“Maybe so. I’d rather you want me than need me. You’re so wet, Elissa.”
She felt him take her by the waist, his hips pressed into her, his erection rubbing against her bottom. He was so very hard. The sensation drove her to an instant starvation madness and her body shook in his embrace.
She could no longer still her shiver when she felt his hips rocking into her, his cock teasing her when she wanted him to plunge into her deep and hard.
“Please, Greg. Don’t tease me any longer. You’ve made me want you to the scream of every cell of my body."
Greg leaned over her and released the stocking holding one wrist, and she caught herself from tumbling forward. He released the other knot, enabling her to support her weight, and he slid his cock over her sex, spreading her moisture and making her crave his invasion.
“You’re so wet, Elissa,” he said in a growl.
His free hand took her by the waist and he drew her onto his cock in a slow glide, making her scream out with his hard penetration. Fireworks exploded through her body and mind with his slow rock of her. She felt him penetrating her so very deeply, she saw stars and whimpered far from her control.
He sped up slowly, sending her into greater spirals and gasps, explosions of orgasms one right after another until she no longer felt the bed beneath her. Feverish, he plunged into her hard and fast until she was weak from the intensity of the orgasms he gave her.
Just when she cried out again, Greg thrust himself into her a final time, held her tight against him in his giant moan, and he sacked atop her, his weight delicious. Stars were everywhere.
After a moment of catching his breath, then he rolled over to the mattress, taking her with him in his arms, sweaty and hot. His body spooning hers warped flighty ecstasy through her, for how long, she couldn’t guess.
By the time she returned to the candlelit room, she watched Greg asleep in the light coming from the living room, his dark bangs tossed haphazardly and glistening from the fluttering flame. His poochy lips puckered a little. His chest sprinkled with soft black hair rose and sank with his slow breath.
After three nights of mind-blowing sexual encounters, Greg slowly stole her soul, defeating her inner programming. She was beginning to feel a lot for him. She was beginning to feel like she didn’t want to leave him.
Oh, God… Sometimes life goes just the right way.
Sometimes life takes a rocket ship to Hell.
* * * *
Elissa awoke to see Greg sleeping beside her, and she smiled in appreciation for how well Mother Nature had put the man together. He was so handsome, devastatingly gorgeous to her with his black hair tossed over his closed eyes, his lightly sprinkled, hard-muscled golden chest draped by the maroon bed sheets like a toga. Her sheets never looked better than wrapped around him, a wine ri
ver flowing over his long, sinewy body. She thought of taking his picture, but it seemed rude without his permission.
She carefully squeezed from his light embrace, then she rose to hit the shower and start her day.
Elissa stepped from the bathroom with the slightest of sounds, eased drawers open to find her clothes, and tiptoed through the bedroom and out to the kitchen, closing the door behind her to block any small noise.
Placing strips of bacon in the copper-bottom frying pan her mother had given her, Elissa recalled the point Greg strove to make last night, other than the soul-exploding sex. She hadn’t given anyone in her life much of herself since her father’s death. She’d locked her world for years, protecting herself from surprises, and Greg had noticed. She’d budged little in the direction of him, not soul-wise.
But maybe she should.
The bacon grease snapped, and a drop zapped Elissa’s hand, giving her a quick burn. She turned to the sink and flushed the burn under the flow of cool water to realize she played with fire.
Now, free of Greg’s magical sensual haze, Elissa knew she couldn’t split her mind for sharing, half to Greg and half to her FBI dreams. Greg was a thief in the night breaking into her home to ravish her, stealing her away, and if given half a chance, he’d snatch the side of her he shouldn’t hold, and she’d let him get away with it like some love-infested zombie.
God gave Woman a brain and a heart, but not enough blood to run them both at once.
Only blankness of thought could rescue her now.
She was done with bacon and frying up scrambled eggs when she felt Greg come up behind her and kiss her lightly on the neck. She turned to see him with a wet head of raven-black hair and a towel around his waist, his Latin-bronzed hide still dripping from the shower. Greg was Italian beefcake. If he came out there half-naked to make her want him more, it worked.
He took a seat at the small, two-plate dining table against the wall, and watched her as he strapped his watch to his wrist even before clothes. Maybe he didn’t plan on dressing, and he’d get no fight from her over that. He seemed to study her too deeply.