Caging Caitlyn

by Reese Gabriel

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  Renaissance

  www.renebooks.com

  Copyright ©2004 by Reese Gabriel

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CAGING CAITLYN

  By

  REESE GABRIEL

  A Renaissance E Books publication

  ISBN 1-58873-374-2

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2004 by R. Gabriel

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  For information contact:

  Renaissance E Books

  Email comments@renebooks.com

  A Sizzler/B&D Edition

  Chapter One

  Special Agent Caitlyn Ross was in trouble ... melting yet again from the feel of strong masculine lips against her neck, the scent of whisky and cheap cologne mixed with pure testosterone entirely too potent for this time of night.

  "Luke, you promised it would be strictly business from now on,” Cait lamented, attempting to push her six foot one inch supervisor back across the back corner booth of Corcoran's Tavern.

  "What makes you think I don't mean business?” Agent-In-Charge Lucas Dumont moved himself that much closer. “I'm going to fuck you till you scream for mercy, then I'm going to start all over again."

  To show it was more than mere bluff, Luke's hand moved possessively to her thigh, sliding up under the hem of her ill-protecting gray tweed skirt. Cait felt her insides turn instantly to jelly. As usual, her body was not cooperating.

  "Luke, please,” she clawed at his fingers. “I'm tired. And I have to get up early."

  "Don't tell me you're gonna be a dick tease,” he flicked open the top button of her starched white blouse worn ever so neatly under the conservative blazer.

  Cait squirmed as his fingers went to work, sending silent messages up and down her spine. They were sexy, surrender messages and they both knew it. “I'm not trying to do anything,” she protested. “I just want to go home."

  "Sit still, Caitlyn. Hands on the table, and that's an order."

  Oh, god. He was using that tone with her. The one that always made her totally wet and horny and needy. All this was her own fault. She should never have agreed to come here for drinks with this man, no matter what he'd said about turning over a new leaf. What was she thinking? Their encounters always led to sex, no matter where she intended it to go.

  And not just regular sex, either, but the perverted kind, with her turning over all her bodily rights and freedoms in exchange for being treated with all the unadulterated flair of a twenty-dollar hooker with no other purpose than meeting his every desire.

  "But, Luke, people will see,” she protested, clamping her fingers to the edge of the wooden booth. If only this kind of degradation didn't turn her on so much deep inside...

  Luke undid another button, baring the bulk of her cleavage to the top of her white lace bra. “That's your problem, Agent Ross. Now spread your legs and let's see if you're nice and wet for me like a good little girl."

  Caitlyn's pussy flooded in response. She hated herself for the power he had over her, the way she turned into a wanton slut for him, each and every time.

  "You did a hell of a job on the Draco case,” he ran his tongue round the edge of her delicate earlobe. “That's one son of a bitch who'll never see the light of day."

  "T-thank you,” she responded to her boss’ praise, even as his fingers moved under the waistband of her frilly lace panties.

  "You're shaping up to be a damned fine agent, Ross."

  She certainly didn't feel like much of one now, thighs splayed, her body flush and molten hot as the man's finger flicked across her swollen clit.

  "Do you have any idea what they'd do to you?” she shivered, “if they found you fucking a subordinate?"

  "That's what makes it so hot, sweetheart. Now how about we go back to my place and you can subordinate yourself for me a little more?"

  "Baby, please,” she wheedled. “I really am exhausted. I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I'll be extra good, I promise. You can come in my mouth while you're doing your morning teleconference to Washington. You know how much you like that.” She hated to beg like this, but sometimes it was the only way.

  Luke stroked her cheek. “Do you have any idea what a totally hot and darling little piece you are? All right, have it your way. A quickie in the alley out back and then you can go home and get your beauty rest. You'll need it."

  Cait's heart skipped like a rabbit's. He'd never even hinted at anything like this before. “The alley? You're not serious, Luke?"

  "Serious as a Tac One Alert, honey. No ifs, ands or buts. Either you put out in the alley or you'll take care of business right here."

  Caitlyn imagined herself on the floor, on her knees under the booth, sucking her boss’ dick in a crowded bar.

  "Okay, Luke, you win,"

  Agent-In-Charge Dumont put his come soaked finger to her lips. “That's my girl. Always ready to take one for the team."

  Cait blushed bright red she sucked his finger clean the way he liked her to. It was a reflex by now. A trained response. Sometimes it scared her what a man like Luke could do to her mind and her body. An aggressive kick ass agent by profession, she'd always had a tendency toward soft, femininity in her relationships with men.

  Even as a teenager, pretty, dark haired Caity had liked her bad boys, motor cycle riders and gang bangers who knew what they wanted from a girl and frequently took it on their own terms. Her older sister Celia and their mother had chided her tastes but there was no explaining or changing such things.

  Maybe she was looking for the image of her runaway, bank robber father to love or maybe it was just genetics. At sixteen she was already in with the wrong crowd, giving money, hiding places and alibis to a host of juvenile delinquents. On her eighteenth birthday her virginity was taken by her gang leader boyfriend, who subsequently passed her to five of his friends. The next summer she ran off with him, barely escaping arrest three months later for a series of convenience store smash and grabs. It was a tough lesson, but she'd come out all the stronger.

  Thanks to a hard-nosed but determined female detective who'd taken an interest, Caitlyn had been given a second chance that eventually led her through college and into the agency academy. The long hours of study and requirements of training kept her mind mostly off men. She hoped it was a permanent change but on her very first posting as a full fledged agent, she learned there was a whole new breed of gun toting mavericks every bit as sexually arousing and horny as the criminals she once loved, if not more so.

  Cait acquired a reputation in the agency as an easy lay, one that was not entirely unfounded. The word out to new male agents was that all you had to do was corner the sexy female, show her your piece and she was yours. The time Caitlyn was discovered on her knees in the impound room with a visiting DEA agent's dick in her mouth there'd been such an uproar she had to be transferred to another city.

  Luke Dumont had put a stop to all that. Though they weren't officially involved, he'd staked his claim, putting hard and fast limits on her behavior-not to mention on her curvaceous, sleek body.

  There were days she feared he might take more, her heart included. Which is why she'd tried to put a stop to their liaison. He'd agreed readily just three days ago, but now it seemed he had an entirely new game in mind.

  Luke Dumont. Master of the mind fuck.r />
  "I'm going to take you in the ass,” he leaned forward, a deceptive lover's smile on his face.

  "Yes, Luke,” replied her traitorous, bitch slut lips-lips that ought to be telling him to go straight to hell.

  "Let's go,” he took her hand, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

  Corcoran's Tavern had a wonderful alley behind it. Long and dark and properly dank. Sometimes winos slept there and sometimes there were drug deals. But Luke had a nine-millimeter pistol and he was single minded and fixated.

  "Get your skirt up and lose the panties,” he ordered, pushing her midway down the narrow passageway.

  His face was framed by moonlight, lending him an eerie, dangerous look.

  "Luke, you can't mean this."

  He unbuckled his belt, slipping it from the loops. “Do it, Caity, or I swear, I'll give you the beating of your life."

  Caitlyn swooned. Would he really take a belt to her-whip her like a dog? The thought was outrageous, horrifying, but at the same time, strangely erotic, too.

  "All right, Luke, just give me a minute."

  "You had a minute already.” Luke grabbed her arm and spun her, face forward against the wall. “Brace yourself."

  Her pulse raced as he took charge, giving her no option but to press her palms to the rough bricks. Luke whipped up her skirt and now he was tearing at the waistband of her panties. She gasped as the fine, feminine material gave way. She was completely exposed, for one and all to see, and for him to do as he willed.

  "Luke, we can go to your apartment,” she bargained desperately. “I'll do anything you say."

  "What you're going to do, Cait,” he shoved a finger rudely up her anus, “is tell me how very sorry you are for being a disobedient, stuck-up little bitch and then you are going to beg me to fuck you in the ass, right here and now to teach you a lesson."

  "No,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Not like that."

  The belt whistled through the air landing with a crack on Caitlyn's bare, quivering flesh. The harsh, brutal sting of leather combined with the sharp tinge of humiliation brought tears to her eyes.

  "Wrong answer,” he informed her. “Try again."

  "I—I'm s—sorry,” she breathed, caught up in the barbaric submission of it all. “For being ... disobedient ... and a stuck up little bitch ... teach me a lesson ... take me ... in my ... ass."

  "My pleasure, sweetheart."

  Cait couldn't believe it was real. They'd only done this act once before, and that had been in the privacy of a hotel room. But there was no denying the grip of his hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place, or the thousand other sensations rushing through her brain as her boss prepared to violate her.

  "Feel that?” Dumont scooped his fingers inside her pussy to retrieve the evidence before getting down to business. “This shit gets you off, doesn't it? You like being abused like a dirty whore."

  "Oh, god,” she groaned. “Oh, Luke."

  His cock was out, pressing against her tight, throbbing little hole. Helplessly, she pushed back against him, responding to his brutality. He'd beaten her ass and now he was going to use her. Just like a whore. His whore.

  "Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me what you need."

  "I need your cock ... I need my ass torn up good."

  "That's it,” he grunted, thrusting himself between her ass cheeks into the delicate passageway. “That's the fucking ticket."

  Cait felt so perfectly trapped, so completely invaded. Still clothed, still armed with her badge and gun, but totally at his mercy.

  "Luke,” she whimpered as he pushed himself masterfully into her anus. “It's so ... so..."

  "It's the best you've ever had,” he supplied, and she hated him, because the motherfucker was right.

  "In my pussy,” she moaned, her pride shattered. “I need you in my pussy."

  Luke laughed. “But you're tired, remember ... only time for a quickie?"

  "I-I didn't mean it ... I want it slow ... I want to please you. Take me home, Luke, handcuff me to your bed, make me do everything."

  "You mean like you did for Draco?"

  The words split her wider than his invading dick. So that's what this was about. Luke was jealous about what he thought had happened when she'd been undercover as a big shot drug buyer trying to take down Draco.

  "Nothing happened between him and me. I swear it, Luke."

  Luke pushed his penis another inch closer to the base, using it as a weapon. “I don't believe you, Cait. You spread for him. You took him on and I'll bet you enjoyed every minute of it."

  Stifling a scream, she shook her head no. That had definitely not happened. Just doing business with the dark eyed, pony tailed drug lord was frightening enough. Sure, he'd wanted to fuck her and she'd had to do some teasing to keep him interested, but that's as far as it had gone. She liked to think that was her own sexual prowess at work, but she knew in her heart the man was just holding back, toying with her, like a wolf or some other beast of prey with a small defenseless creature.

  To a man like Draco, women were property, to be seized and used and thrown away when they'd outlived their usefulness. She'd watched him with his whores and even his so-called girlfriends, the way they responded to him with such total fear and obedience. Their eyes never off of him in a crowded room, watching for the merest snap of his finger or the slightest glance signaling them to fall to their knees. Many times she'd seen him put a girl in her place. The truth is, the suavely, debonair and ruthlessly dangerous killer Anton Draco had shaken Caitlyn to her very core and the sooner she put him out of her mind now that he was safely behind bars, the better.

  "I know you're lying, Cait. And I've got just the thing for that filthy, deceitful mouth of yours.” Luke pulled himself out in one smooth motion, leaving her terribly, vacuously empty.

  "Luke, not here,” she pleaded, anticipating what was next.

  Luke slapped her crisply across the cheek. “I told you once, don't fight me. Now get down on your knees and show me what a good girl you can be."

  Cait complied, opening wide to receive his dick. She was kneeling on wet cardboard, the odor of stale urine and rotting garbage filling her nostrils.

  "All the way, Caitlyn."

  She did her best to relax her jaws, just as if she were pleasuring him in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. It was a maddening sensation, all this fear and anger and resentment, combined with more sexual excitement than she'd ever felt in her life.

  Luke seemed to pick up on her unprecedented heat as he made another new demand. “You're going to swallow it, Cait. Every drop."

  Yes, that was fitting, reasoned her far-gone mind. He was using her in an alley, like a slut. His come belonged down her gullet. She was a come bucket, a pure sex receptacle.

  "Oh, jeezus,” he hissed, pumping good and fast. “You're one hell of a woman, you know that? The smartest goddamn agent I ever worked with. Marry me, Caitlyn. Fucking marry me."

  It was surreal, hearing these random words, this incredible mix of romance and brutality as the man thrust himself in and out of her mouth.

  Cait garbled her confusion as her boss ejaculated. Was it the sex talking? The whisky? Or just part of the mind games?

  "I love you,” he stroked her head, his load spurting between her cheeks.

  "I always have."

  Cait drank him down. She was mind blown, officially and thoroughly undone. He'd never acted this way, never talked this way.

  "Come back to my place with me. We'll talk.” He was out of breath leaning against the wall. His tone one she'd never heard before.

  "I have to go,” Cait leaped to her feet, smoothing her skirt. “It's late."

  Totally overwhelmed, she kicked off the scraps of her underwear and made a dash for the street. She didn't look back till she reached the parking garage. Mercifully, he hadn't tried to follow.

  Caitlyn's pussy was on fire as she headed for her car. Her legs were shaking. She was clutching her purse for dear
life. Had she really carried it out of the bar? She had no memory of it. She still had her gun inside, thank god.

  What had gotten into her? Two bourbons was all Luke had managed to get down her throat, other than his come, and yet he'd just made her do something totally out of the realm of all possibilities, pleasuring him like some kind of sex slave in the alley, her ass freshly beaten and fucked. She'd let him do it all, and then propose marriage on top of it, without batting an eyelash.

  It must have been the release of tension from the closing of the case, she told herself. The conviction of the notorious Draco; the culmination of a seven-month investigation that had put out of commission the kingpin of one of the biggest crime syndicates in North America.

  Three consecutive life sentences was the final result. No possibility of parole. The miserable fuck. It'd be a cold day in hell before he ever sold another ounce of heroin or exploited the body of another defenseless female.

  Cait felt herself weaving between the rows of vehicles. Maybe it was three bourbons she'd had and not two. Her head was spinning by the time she found her car. Fuck it, where were her keys? Fumbling in her purse, she leaned on the door of the blue sedan she was driving. An agency car. One of the perks of her job.

  Officially now, Cait decided she was drunk, and in trouble. It wasn't smart for a female to be alone, even an armed one, and that made her hurry for the keys all the more.

  "Shit,” she slurred, not even hearing the car approaching from behind.

  It was black and fast with tinted windows. Three of the doors opened at once and men came out, dressed in black. The men had gloves and masks. Two grabbed her by the arms while a third took her purse.

  "One false move, bitch, and you're dead."

  Cait arched her neck, trying to keep the switchblade he was holding from slicing her throat.

  "Just breathe it in,” one of the other men coaxed, placing a foul smelling cloth over her face.

  It was chloroform. Caitlyn's body screamed out for her to fight. The first rule of random abduction was never let yourself be taken away in a car. The chances of survival under such circumstances were zero. Always. Any risk, any chance was better than that.