“I should go,” he says, adjusting his uniform and flexing his neck. “I have some things I have to do and I’m beat after a long shift.” He pauses, eying me again. Is he going to question my story? I don’t know what I’ll do if he does. I fuss with my hair while he seems a bit lost for words. I’m relieved when he does speak and it’s not to call me out. “When your friend is ready to come forward, you tell her I’ll be there to support her. She needs to come forward, though. We can’t help her if she stays silent.”
The truth of his words really hits home. Cory takes another few gulps of coffee and walks to the door.
“Look, Allyson,” Cory says, pausing at the threshold. He turns and presses his hand to my cheek. “At the restaurant…” He pauses as though he doesn’t know what to say.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I blurt out, trying to ease his obvious embarrassment.
“I wasn’t going to apologize,” he says. His thumb caresses my cheek, his eyes on my lips. My throat is still tight with unspent emotion and his tenderness almost brings tears to my eyes. I swallow noisily, conscious of everything.
“What were you going to say, then?”
“That I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Thinking about what,” I whisper as he gazes down at me, soft brown eyes like melted chocolate.
“Thinking that I want to do it again.”
I don’t say anything, even though it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I want that too. I’m hurting so badly that it would be the sweetest escape. I can’t think that way, though. I can’t think about how it would feel to surrender to his desire because it would be wrong. In a few months, he’s going to be family. Any upset between us would hurt my mom and her dreams of creating a unit for us with her impending marriage. I’ve done so much wrong recently; made bad mistakes, stupid choices, incorrect judgments, that I don’t trust myself.
My eyes must show my warring emotions because Cory smiles.
“I can almost see your mind working.”
“And what is it saying?”
“That I shouldn’t kiss you again. That it would be a mistake.”
“Wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
I’m not expecting him to kiss me. Not really. So when he does, my heart leaps in my chest. One tiny soft press of his lips and my knees are weak.
“It doesn’t feel like a mistake,” he whispers huskily, breath gusting against my cheek as he presses soft kisses along my jaw. His gentleness is enough to make me want to cry again. Emotions bubble away inside me. He’s right. The way he kisses me feels about as far from a mistake as I can imagine.
Cory kisses me again, this time more firmly, his tongue licking out to caress the soft, sensitive part in the middle of my top lip. His hand slips into my hair, cupping the base of my neck, drawing me into him. It’s as though something slots into place inside me. I feel peaceful while he worships me with his mouth.
Sometimes, when the world feels like it’s against you in the worst way imaginable, it sends you a balm to soothe the hurt. It might be a big mistake, but kissing Cory is the sweetest error I’ve ever made.
11
ALLYSON
Cory’s arms feel like a haven for me to escape to. I snuggle against him, resting one hand over his fast-beating heart and the other at his slim waist. I don’t have the will or strength to push him away or the sense it seems to care about the possible repercussions. I let him control our kiss as I practically melt against him. The cheesy romance idea that time can stand still when you’re with someone you feel for is absolutely true. I don’t know how long we stand there, reliving the kiss we shared at the restaurant but with so much more passion it feels like no time and eternity all rolled into one.
When Cory finally draws back he tips my chin up and gazes into my eyes. I feel bare, as though he’s trying to look inside me. He’s a cop after all. That’s what he’s used to doing; trying to work out whether the things a person says and does are the truth or a lie.
His expression softens and he looks like he’s about to ask me a question. I don’t want to lie to him again, and if he asks me how I feel about things now, I don’t know what I’d say. He’s pausing to check I’m with him and that he hasn’t overstepped the mark. Maybe he’s just a good guy or maybe it’s because he thinks I’m sensitive at the moment because of my friend. Impulsively I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips against his again, silencing whatever words were on the tip of his tongue.
My arms tighten around him and his hands go straight into my hair, gripping tightly again. This time, the kiss has a hotter edge; there’s something exploratory and needy about his touch. The spark that has lingered between us since he flagged me down, rages into an inferno that can’t be put out.
I trail my hands over his broad back, enjoying the play of muscles that bunch beneath my fingers. I skim higher, gripping his shoulders for support. Cory deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around me possessively, crushing me to his chest with a groan, then his hands roam across my back, down to my hips, squeezing. When he cups my ass and pulls me into him I can feel how aroused he is and it sends my heartbeat racing. Cory’s so tall and so big, all muscle and restrained strength. Although his squeezes are firm there is nothing about his touch that is designed to hurt.
I think about Drew and how he liked to see the imprint of his grabby fingers on the fleshy parts of my body. I hardly know Cory but I trust him enough that I don’t fear where this is going. In fact, my whole body is alight with heat and longing. Between my legs, I feel like everything is swelling and throbbing. Our hands move over each other caressing, exploring, frenzied.
The fantasy I had about him comes rushing back to me as he pulls me in tighter to his body. His tongue strokes mine and a shiver races through me. In my fantasy, he told me I was a bad girl. Standing in my room wrapped around each other, breathless from the heated kiss, I feel like a bad girl. Drew told me I was nothing. He would pass me around his friends, that’s how much he thought of me. He never cared about me, and the deep insecurities I have, the ones that make me question if I’m worth caring about flare.
There are tears burning behind my eyes again but these have a different root. I’m so sick of never feeling good enough. I’m sick of always wondering if whoever I’m with is going to tire of me and move on. And I feel so damn stupid for still carrying around my childhood abandonment issues and letting them affect me so badly.
I clutch onto Cory more, needing his strength. I tell myself that this is all about pleasure. If I can just lose myself in him, I can bury my troubles and anxieties for a while. I feel like a gambler chasing their losses, knowing it’s foolish, but hoping that they are wrong. Maybe lady luck will look kindly on me tonight. Maybe the universe is sending me Cory for a reason.
I reach down to fumble with the front of his trousers but get all tangled up in the belt thing he has on. He draws back and looks at my hands, gripping my upper arms as though he’s torn between letting me get on with it and stopping me too.
Maybe Cory isn’t as certain of what we are doing as I thought.
“Allyson,” he says, and it sounds like a warning.
“What?” My voice is high pitched, frantic. I’m trying to sound innocent but I’m not sure it comes across. I don’t want him to tell me we’re going too far or too fast. My crumbling self-confidence is on the verge of being stomped into the ground.
He looks me in the eyes, desire flashing in the depths of his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asks in a voice that is so husky and low I can barely make out the words.
I hesitate, bite my lip. My pussy throbs and I nod. They say men are ruled by their dicks but they’re not the only ones who crave sex enough to throw common sense out of the window.
Cory takes over, removing the thing he has around his waist that houses all the equipment he needs to do his job. He turns to place it on my nightstand and then pauses. My eyes search for what he’s looking at and I spot the slightly open drawer and the g
lint of the handcuffs I have in there. Neither of us moves for seconds that stretch long and thin like taffy. I feel his hesitation. God, does he think I’m some kind of sexual deviant? I bet he sees handcuffs as totally unsexy implements of law enforcement.
I’m waiting for him to say that he’s going to leave, and the utter humiliation sends my cheeks flaming. Just as I’m about to tell him he should go and save us both the embarrassment he steps forward and hooks them out of the draw with his index finger.
His eyes glint with something I don’t understand. Amusement? Desire?
“You an undercover officer, Allyson?”
My already pink cheek must now be the color of beetroot.
I shake my head and hide my face in my hands.
When I feel his fingers on my wrist I think he’s trying to pry my hands away so he can look at me. Then I hear the first clink of the cuff and look up in shock.
“You like playing games?”
His eyes are filled with fire. I can’t tell if he’s angry or turned on. Please let him be turned on. I glance at the floor. The naughty fantasies I had about him flash through my mind, strobing images of us naked, entwined, sweat soaked. My stomach flutters with anticipation and my already wet pussy clenches its approval.
I nod once and wait. I want to know what he’s thinking so badly. Is he angry with me? Misusing cuffs might be something he feels very strongly about. Maybe he has a thing about consent. I’m sure he’s heard his fair share of horrible stories. Restraints aren’t always placed on women for their pleasure.
“I had a feeling about you, as soon as I saw you,” Cory whispers. “You buzz with it, pushing and pushing with your sass mouth and confidence. Under it all, you just want to be owned.”
I nod, still not looking him in the eye. I want to know if desire flares there. I want to see his expression, but I can’t look.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he says coldly.
I feel a frisson of arousal run up my spine and across my scalp. I hear the shaky breath escaping my lips as I comply.
My hands are trembling as he secures the cuffs, the cool metal soothing against my wrists.
He stands behind me, so tall it feels as though he’s looming. I love how powerful he is, how totally in control. The first touch of his hand on me since he made me powerless is gentle. He brushes the hair from my shoulder, stroking his finger down the column of my neck and over my shoulder. It feels so tender yet strangely ominous. I have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling. He puts his mouth close to my ear, hot breath gusting. I think he’s going to kiss me there, but he murmurs words of reassurance instead. “Any time you feel uncomfortable, just call me ‘officer’ and I’ll stop.”
I nod and exhale loudly. He’s safe, is all I can think. Ninety-nine percent of me knew, but I’ve learned not to trust my gut instincts over the past few months.
“Turn around.”
I obey his gruff command and take a second to glance up at him. The lust raging in his eyes is so potent I feel as though I can’t breathe. There are words that are poised on the tip of my tongue, words that I think will add to the scene we’re playing. He told me he knew what I needed, so I think I know what he’d want me to say and how he’d want me to act.
Like the dirty girl I am, in need of his punishment.
“Don’t do this,” I say biting my lip.
Desire flashes across his face as he descends on me. His lips clasp mine in a heated kiss, hungrier and more devouring than any we’ve shared so far. His tongue slips inside my mouth and strokes, pulling shivers through my body. It’s like a jolt of pure electricity surges from every point that is in contact with him, directly to my clit.
The need I feel is so powerful; to be filled, to be owned, to give over my trust to someone in the hope that they will respect and treasure it. Underneath it all is the visceral need to feel his utter surrender to the pleasure I can give him. I want to see this strong man break apart.
He draws away, clutching me around the jaw. I moan in despair wanting those lips on mine again. His gaze rakes over my body seemingly seeing my t-shirt and shorts for the first time. He yanks the top over my head and pulls it down until it rests above the handcuffs. The knot of fabric tickles my back but I force that sensation away as he unsnaps my strapless bra and lets it drop to my feet.
I want to snuggle closer to him, breathe in his scent and feel his warmth, but that isn’t what this scene is about. When he bends his head I take a step back.
My voice sounds tiny in the quiet of the room. “No, don’t do this.”
Cory’s eyes blaze, but a grin appears on his lips. His gaze is so hungry on my tits that it’s almost like a physical touch. My nipples grow harder in the coolness of the room, drawing tighter in anticipation of the first sensation of his hand or mouth on them. He raises a hand and I expect him to cup my whole breast, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rests the tip of one finger against my pointed nipple and presses hard.
Oh, god, it feels so good I almost fall to my knees.
Cory grabs my upper arm and holds me firmly while he bends to suckle hard. I want to hold him to my breast, run my fingers through his gorgeous, soft, dirty-blond hair, but I can’t. The cuffs clank behind me as I tug with frustration.
If he pulls away I can’t stop him.
I’m at his mercy.
A sizzling sensation races through me again. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my neck, behind my breast and in the tips of my fingers. With every suckle, my pussy clenches. His tongue is so rough against my sensitive skin that it almost hurts. I exist, in that moment, on the line between pleasure and pain, and my mind empties of everything else.
He pulls away from me, his eyes on the nipple he has sucked almost raw, then he twists it cruelly. It should feel bad. I know it should, but I don’t seem to be built like other people. All I feel is desperation for more. Anything that he will give me, I want, even if it hurts.
“You love this,” he says gruffly. “You want it.”
Imperceptibly I nod but I say, “No. Please stop.”
He doesn’t.
I haven’t called him ‘officer’. I haven’t used the word he gave me that would give me the freedom to end this whenever I want it to.
Instead, he tucks a finger underneath the waistband of my shorts. He hooks my panties as well and pulls them and my shorts down my legs, tapping my left calf. “Step out of them.”
I do as he commands and stand before him naked, vulnerable, helpless and quaking with an anticipation that I’ve never felt before. Cory stands and simply drinks me in with his lust-filled eyes. For a moment, I see softness there, as though this is more than just hardcore sex to him, but then it’s gone and he’s back to mean.
When he steps closer to me I shiver, the heat of his body seeping into my exposed skin a contrast to the cool room. He moves so slowly that I have no idea what he’s going to do, but when his fingers brush my thigh I know he’s going to touch me where I need him most.
His first touch is gentle, fingers stroking through the soft dark hair, tugging on it possessively. I watch him extend a finger so he can part my lips and gain access to the wet pink place between them. My breathing is short and frantic as I wait for him to touch me. Everything is so slow and teasing I want to cry out and beg for him to just do it. Touch my clit, push your fingers up inside me until I come.
I need to come so badly.
His fingertip brushes my clit, enough that I can tell it’s swollen and ready to be stimulated. I moan, loudly. I can’t help myself.
But he doesn’t like it. He reaches a hand around me and slaps my ass hard.
I jerk forward, the sting of the slap a total surprise. My eyes widen and he smiles. Before I can back away his other arm comes around me to hold me in place. He slaps my ass again, harder.
I jerk into him again but I don’t complain. I get that he doesn’t want me to make a sound. I struggle against him, the sting of the spanking sending a tingling sensation to my aching pu
ssy.
“You’re a dirty girl,” he whispers. “You’re so wet and I’ve hardly touched you.” His hand connects with my ass again. “You need to learn,” he says.
I moan and sway towards him but he yanks me back with his hand around the handcuffs. They dig into my skin inflicting more exquisite pain. The pain mingled with pleasure makes me so hot, so wet I want to plead with him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to throw me on the bed and fuck me hard until we both come.
“On your knees.”
He kicks my shorts and panties toward me for me to kneel on. I take position in front of him waiting for his instructions. Faster than I’ve ever seen a man undress his clothes hit the floor. I barely have time to take in his muscled chest and strong thighs before he wraps a hand in my hair and guides me toward his rock-hard cock. I peer up at him.
“Suck me.”
I’m dazed as Cory pushes me forward, stroking the tip of his huge cock over my bottom lip and pushing deep into my mouth. With him guiding me back and forth on his length, I suck. The taste of him makes me light headed and slurping sounds fill the room as he pushes me faster. I lick him up and down following the length of a vein to the tip, and he groans, tightening his grasp in my hair. He pushes me toward his length again. With each thrust forward my body tingles. I imagine his cock pushing inside me. I taste his arousal, salty-sweet in my mouth, and I feel so frantic. Squeezing my legs together does nothing to ease the ache between them. There’s only one thing that will do that and Cory is making me wait.
My shoulders are beginning to twinge, but before I can linger on the thought, Cory’s hand lets go of my hair. He helps me to stand and pulls me into his arms for another searing kiss. I wonder if he can taste himself on my tongue, and how he feels about that.
My hard nipples brush against his chest, causing a tingle of sensation to race through my body. The stroke of his tongue across my lips makes me shiver. I want to wrap my arms around him. Pull him closer. The handcuffs bite into my skin every time I struggle against them.
ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance Page 8