Deeper

by Jenika Snow

  Sure, he wanted to fuck her something bad, but it was more than that. The way she smiled when she thought no one was looking, the way her hips slightly swayed, driving a man to his fucking knees because her ass was something poems were made of. She was a work of art, and she was his—well, for two weeks anyway.

  “The money came through, and we can start the first phase of the project in the next few months.” Alfonso leaned back in his seat, his two bodyguards standing on either side of him. It was a known fact Alfonso Barcaloni did a lot of deeds under the table. He’d even spent two years in the state prison for drug trafficking.

  That was over ten years ago, though, when Tate had started building his empire. Although Alfonso was a dangerous man, his ways had changed over the years, and he did a lot of good for the community. While some of those things weren’t exactly considered kosher, they helped out people less fortunate.

  Tate needed his help for the project he was taking on. Alfonso had connections to suppliers that lowered Tate’s cost. This was the second project he was undertaking and bigger than the first. What he planned on doing would require a lot of privacy, and the Colorado Rockies were just the place to find it.

  Alfonso cleared his throat. “Here are the specifics, and the dates and times for the drop-offs and construction are outlined. I’d like to see the finished product when everything is up and running.”

  Tate took the envelope and slipped it in the inner pocket of his jacket. “Of course. Everything should be settled within the next few months.”

  They shook, and Tate stood, needing to get out of this house and out of the restricting tux. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and all he wanted to do was find Stella and get the hell home.

  He left Alfonso’s office and went into the room where he had left her. He had been gone for about an hour, so he didn’t know why he assumed she would be in the same corner, her lips looking lush and kissable, her body so fuckable in that dress.

  He would need to give Miles a hefty bonus for picking out the color. It made her eyes pop like emeralds. He checked a few of the other rooms, and just as he was going to make another sweep of the lower level, he heard her tinkling laughter. He made his way onto the balcony and stopped when he saw her standing by a large motherfucker, his jacket draped over her shoulders.

  Oh, hell no.

  His strides were determined as he moved toward her. This asshole thought he was going to take what was his?

  His? That one word had him stopping in his tracks and frowning. He had been with her for one fucking night, and he was already claiming her as his? He shook his head to clear his thoughts and started moving forward again. The dick leaned in and whispered something in her ear, which only caused her to giggle.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The sarcasm and irritation were evident in his voice, and he knew both of them picked up on it by the way they turned around suddenly. Stella’s eyes grew slightly wide, and whoever the joker was beside her looked mildly bored—that was until he noticed whose girl he was trying to mess with. There he went again, calling Stella his girl.

  “Mr. Wessen?”

  Tate tore the jacket off Stella and tossed it at the guy, who still had his mouth slightly open. He took his own jacket off, draped it over her shoulders, and pulled her to his side. When he wrapped his arm around her waist, he felt her stiffen in his arms, but he didn’t give a shit. She would stay by his side because it was clear some jackass was just jonesing to snatch her up.

  “I was told you’d be at this party and was hoping to get to meet you. I have ten KOs in less than forty seconds each and was hoping you’d give me a shot to show you what I have.”

  Tate’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t in the mood to wheel and deal with an amateur fighter, but the more he looked at him, the more he wondered just how long he’d last in the underground. He certainly had the body of a fighter, all big, raw muscle, but could he handle the gritty violence of what his establishment offered?

  “What’s your name?” He knew he was scrutinizing him, but Tate didn’t give a fuck. The possession he felt when he saw Stella with the other man’s jacket around her shoulders was something he had never experienced before. It made his blood boil and his fists clench with the need to punch something, preferably the owner of the jacket, right in the fucking face.

  He stuck his hand out and said adamantly, “Byron Metcalf, sir.” Tate took the offered hand and might have added a little extra pressure, because he wanted him to know who the fuck he was dealing with. When their hands released, he was satisfied to see Byron flex his hand a few times at his side.

  “Come by tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll throw you in the cage with one of my fighters.”

  Byron’s eyes grew wide, and his chest puffed up. The excitement in him was palpable, but Tate didn’t wait around to hear him squealing like a little girl over it. “I assume you know where to come?” At Byron’s nod, Tate turned with Stella and headed back inside. Seeing her by that asshat made something inside of him snap, and he wanted her to know exactly who she’d come to this party with.

  Once they were in the back of the car and the door was shut behind them, she turned and gave him a death glare. “How fucking dare you? What in the hell do you think I am, some kind of possession that your inner caveman can control?” She snorted, and he had to admit the sound was endearing. “I think not, you asshole.”

  He couldn’t help the grin that surfaced. Damn, but she was a little spitfire. No one spoke to him the way she was, and he found it slightly refreshing, to a point. He didn’t need to remind her why she was with him because the realization that she was digging herself in a hole covered her face. Her skin became a brilliant red, and she straightened her shoulders. When she didn’t say anything, he raised an eyebrow.

  “I—” She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that; it’s just—”

  “Listen, you mouthing off isn’t going to make me retract our deal, but Stella”—he leaned forward so their noses almost touched—“don’t fucking make a habit of it. I may allow you some leniency when it comes to telling me off, because I know I can be an asshole, but I’m not known for my patience. I’ll only tolerate so much before I bend you over and paddle your ass.” He could tell she held her breath, and he wanted desperately to lean in and kiss her. “Do you understand?” At her nod he dipped his gaze to her lips. She licked them as if she could feel his mouth on them. He leaned back in his seat and got comfortable.

  “Good, because right now I want you straddling my waist and guiding my cock into your cunt.”

  15

  Stella knew she should have just kept her damn mouth shut, but when Tate had ripped Byron’s jacket off her, threw his over her shoulders, and all but dragged her over to him, the easygoing attitude she’d had with Byron evaporated instantly. The fact that Tate thought he could stake some kind of claim on her, especially since they had only been in this “relationship” for twenty-four hours, if that, was ludicrous.

  She’d agreed to let him fuck her any time and any way he wanted. What she hadn’t agreed to was letting him act like some psychotic boyfriend when she’d been talking to another man. It had been completely innocent, and she’d actually been enjoying herself. He was the one that left her alone to take care of his “business,” but he obviously thought she should have just sat in the corner he’d left her in. Well, fuck that.

  She’d been the good girl while he led them out of the party, but as soon as the Mercedes door had shut, she let her anger break free. Of course, she knew it was a bad idea, but never had she let a man push her around like that, not even the guys she’d been legitimately dating.

  She and Tate were just fucking.

  When he leaned back and told her to straddle him, her traitorous body had instantly reacted. Her pussy clenched down hard, knowing soon there would be something very thick and very large filling it. They had at least an hour to do this. He was relaxed against the
leather seat, and the outline of his erection strained against the material of his pants.

  She took a quick glance at the front seat, where the privacy screen was down. When she looked back at Tate, he was grinning again. They stared at each other for several long moments, and she wondered if he was going to raise the screen. When he didn’t make a move to do that, she tensed.

  Oh, hell no. He actually thinks I’m fucking him with his driver just feet away?

  “What are you waiting for?” The jerk thought this was funny. “We don’t have much time, and I intended on taking you a few times in this car before we reach home.”

  “What about the driver?” Her voice was a hushed, urgent whisper. “Aren’t you going to raise the screen?”

  “No, I’m not.” His expression, once amused, was now serious. “Now straddle me, Stella.” His hands went to his zipper, and he undid his pants just enough that his cock was bared. He pulled a condom out and handed it to her. “Put it on me.”

  She gritted her teeth and grabbed the circle of latex. He sat unmoving, his gaze focused on her as she started to roll the latex down his length. His arms were slung over the back of his seat in a relaxed posture. He didn’t seem at all fazed that the driver just so happened to glance back and see what they were doing. When the rubber was all the way down to the root of his dick, she placed her shaking hands on her thighs.

  “Hike up that dress and straddle me.” His voice was so low, so husky that her pussy clenched and her clit throbbed.

  She looked over her shoulder once more, unsure if she should actually do this. She’d never been into voyeurism, but whether Tate liked that or not, he wasn’t going to let her get out of it. It was clear he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. If she was being honest with herself, did she really want to say no?

  “Look at me, Stella.”

  When she turned and looked back at him, her heart pounded.

  “If you want to stop this, then all you need to do is say so, and you’re free to go home.” What he wasn’t saying was her father would still be screwed. “If you want to continue with our arrangement, then I suggest you slide that tight little pussy down my cock.” God, he was such an asshole, but she wanted him so damn bad.

  Without thinking about anything else but riding him, she threw one leg over his thigh and then the other until his hot length pressed against her cleft. A gasp left her at how good it felt, and he had yet to penetrate her.

  “Take me in your hand, and guide me into your sweet body.” Her name came out of his lips on a whisper, and she did as he asked. His girth was substantial in her palm, and she knew exactly how he would feel once he was buried deep inside of her. Even thinking about it had her pussy clenching, trying to grab on to all that hard male flesh.

  The tip was thick as she pressed it to her opening, and when she started to slide down on him, her eyes closed in bliss. The feeling of being unbelievably full was intense. Every inch of her was filled with Tate, with his throbbing cock that hit her cervix and had her aching for more. Lower and lower she went, loving that his hips lifted to aid in her descent. His hands on her hips gripped her flesh tightly. His balls touched her ass when he was fully inside of her, and they both let out a harsh breath.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. God, you feel so fucking incredible.” He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his lips finding her pulse and licking and biting at her flesh.

  Stella started rising and falling on his shaft, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. Her clit rubbed on his length, swelling further, throbbing from the friction.

  “Christ, Stella. Fucking ride me. Harder, baby. Harder.” His hands landed on her ass, the sound of his palms smacking against her sounding incredibly loud in the small confines of the car. She rode him faster, harder, slamming her pussy onto his lap and screaming out when her climax sucked all the air out of her. Just as her orgasm peaked, she felt Tate’s finger breech the crease of her ass and slide down to rub around her stretched pussy hole.

  She knew he could feel himself disappearing in her pussy, knew he felt the skin stretched taut around his erection. The erotic thoughts made her work herself on him feverishly. He gathered her cream on his finger and brought it to her anus, rubbing the fluid around the hole before slipping the thick digit into her bottom.

  It felt good, so damn good that she couldn’t help her teeth from sinking into her bottom lip. She knew she broke the skin when she tasted the metallic tanginess of blood, but the pain heightened her pleasure.

  “Fuck.” Tate threw his head back and groaned as his orgasm tore through him and cum filled the condom. She could feel his dick swell inside of her and had a fleeting notion that she would love to feel his bare skin rubbing along hers. What would it feel like for him to come inside of her, fill her with his hot seed?

  Her legs burned from moving up and down, from working her pussy on his erection. Resting fully on him, his cock buried deep in her again, she felt his dick softening inside of her. Little tremors of residual pleasure moved through her body and clamped down on him. The motion made Tate grunt and wrap his arms around her middle, bringing her closer to his wide, hard chest.

  She tried to get off his lap, but his grip tightened. “Stella, please, let me just hold you.”

  His words stopped her, and she kept her head on his chest, listening to the steady, strong beat of his heart. His voice was soft, and when his hands started rubbing up and down her back in a soothing gesture, she let her eyes slide shut.

  A smile tilted her lips, but she didn’t dare let him see. For the hard exterior that made up Tate Wessen, there was a softer, almost gentle part of him hiding inside. She wondered if she was the first person to see it. His words and touch were so soft, so caring, that for a moment, she didn’t think about why she was wrapped in his arms and why she’d given herself to him so easily.

  Neither of them spoke after that, their breathing the only sound that surrounded them. Stella let the euphoria of their coupling steal her consciousness and overwhelm every part of her that told her if she wasn’t careful, this situation could be not only dangerous for her health but her heart, too.

  16

  The following morning, Stella woke up by herself again. Her body was sore, pleasantly so, and she didn’t know if she would ever get used to Tate’s insatiable appetite. Was he like this with all women? Maybe he was like this because their time was so short and he knew in just a week and a half she would be gone and he wouldn’t have to deal with her again? Or maybe he was like this because he could be, because that was just the way he was? In all honesty, it was probably a combination of the two.

  When they’d gotten back from the party, Tate had carried her into the house. Carried her! To her embarrassment she’d fallen asleep on his lap, his cock still buried inside of her. He had gently woken her up, and when their clothing was righted and she climbed out of the car, he’d scooped her up. By the time they made it up to his room, she was wide awake, her libido rearing its damn head again. If her arousal didn’t calm the hell down, she wouldn’t have a vagina at the end of these two weeks.

  Needless to say, he had taken her three more times before she passed out for good. There were times when she felt like maybe this meant a little more to him than just sex. She shook her head, knowing it was a stupid thought as soon as it passed through her mind. There was nothing about her that Tate wanted except what was between her thighs, especially because they knew absolutely nothing about each other. The sooner she realized that and knew nothing would happen, the better off she would be. Besides, did she really want to get involved with a man like him?

  Stella rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Why was she even thinking about him in any context outside of their agreement? She’d heard enough horror stories about his profession that she should be scared to even be around him. She thought about what she’d heard: drug trafficking, underground cage fighting, money laundering, and who knew what other illegal activities he was involved with? Maybe she sho
uld just ask him, confront him, and see if everything she’d heard was true. What if he admitted it all? Would she be able to take the truth? When she thought of it like that, she was too scared to hear what his answer was. No, the best thing for her was to just keep her ignorance.

  She slid out of bed and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. She wanted to call her dad and make sure he was all right. She’d only been gone for a few days, but there was a lot that could happen in that time, especially when it concerned her father. She quickly bathed and stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed. She didn’t know what Tate had planned for tonight, but she knew it wasn’t just sitting at home.

  It seemed he always had something to do, and she wondered when the man ever rested. Just as she zipped up her pants, her cell phone went off. A look at the caller ID showed it was Tate, and she cursed her heart for racing.

  “Hello?”

  The sound of people talking in the background faded away, and then she heard a door shut and silence filled the receiver. “Stella?” She knew when Tate sat down because she could hear the sound of leather creaking through the phone. “Hi.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. He only said that one word, but she could picture him leaning back in his chair, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, and his cock hard. Damn it, Stella! Stop thinking like that. “Hi.” She walked over to the dressing table and picked up her brush. The wet strands of her hair were wavy, but she knew if she let them dry naturally, they would be a frizzy mess.

  “You have plans tonight?” She could hear the teasing note in his voice and smiled again. She was finding herself doing that more and more when it came to Tate.

  “I might have a hot date tonight.” Why she was teasing him back? His deep chuckle, even through the phone, had her becoming wet.

  “Is that so?” The sound of shuffling paper in the background stopped her from saying anything else. She certainly didn’t want to make herself look like a fool, admitting that even though her pussy was sore and they’d just fucked hours ago, she was ready for more, so much more. She realized with great disdain that she was becoming Tate Wessen’s little nymphomaniac.