Black Sheep Bounty Hunter

by Jackie Ashenden

  Then she bit him. Hard.

  Pain shot through him, the sensation giving the pleasure a sharp edge that made him groan. “Bad move, little girl,” he growled against her mouth when he found his breath again. “Extremely fucking bad move.” He shifted and, still holding onto her jaw, he grabbed her wrist with his free hand and jerked her fingers from his cock. Then he lifted it and pinned it to the wall beside her head.

  She shuddered, her gaze black. “So, what are you going to do about it, hotshot?” Her voice was smoky and sensual and full of demand. “Face it. You can’t handle me. You couldn’t yesterday down in the bar and you can’t now.”

  She was inciting him, the delicious little bitch. Pushing him, because that’s what she did. Always pushing him, always goading him. Well, tonight, he was here for it.

  Quinn shifted his grip from her jaw and grabbed her other hand, lifting that up too so both wrists were pinned on either side of her head. “I can handle you,” he murmured, very deliberately pressing himself hard up against the length of her. “The real question is can you handle me?”

  She shuddered as he crushed her against the wall, her tits pushing against his bare chest, only the frilly white cotton top she was wearing separating his skin from hers. He could feel the hard tips of her nipples pressing against him and the sweet, musky scent of her arousal was like gas on the already raging bonfire of his own desire.

  Her mouth curved in a smile that was just a hair short of feral, something wild and untamed in her eyes. Something he’d always suspected had been lurking underneath her Duchess armor. A raw, primal passion.

  You did that to her. It’s all you.

  “Bring it on, asshole,” Lily murmured. “Like I told you yesterday, I’m no fucking victim. I can handle everything you’ve got and then some.”

  And just like that, the leash on his control snapped, an intense possessiveness sweeping through him, twining with his fury and desire, laying waste to everything in its path.

  Quinn bent and covered her sassy mouth again, gripping her wrists tightly as he crushed her against the wall. She arched into him, kissing him back just as hard, her teeth grazing his lower lip.

  His hunger became razor sharp, a rough sound escaping him as he shifted his grip on her, hauling her wrists higher, above her head and pinning them against the wall with one hand. Then with the other, he pulled hard on the little top she wore, tearing it open, the sound of fabric ripping mixing in with their harsh breaths. She groaned, shuddering as her warm, bare skin came into contact with his, and fuck, yes, it was every bit as soft and silky as he’d expected.

  “Bastard,” she panted. “I liked that top.”

  “Too fucking bad.” He kissed her again, hard and deep, then tore his mouth away to nip at the side of her neck, taste the salty/sweetness at the hollow of her throat. He cupped one soft, round breast with his free hand, the sharp point of her nipple pressing against his palm and she gasped aloud as he squeezed her, pinching the taut peak between his thumb and forefinger.

  “What’s wrong, Duchess?” he demanded roughly, lifting his head and watching her face as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, pinching and teasing. “Not so much fun when it’s me doing the teasing, huh?”

  She shuddered, her body arching against the wall, her wrists pulling against his hold as he pinched her again. “You’re such an asshole,” she gasped.

  “Yeah, and you love it.” He licked his thumb and circled her nipple, getting it slick and slippery, making her shudder even harder.

  Christ, he wanted to eat her alive. All of her. Inch by tantalizing inch until she was writhing, punish her until she was screaming with pleasure in his arms. Until that cool armor of hers was nothing more than a distant memory and all her secrets were laid bare to him.

  Until she was laid bare to him.

  “I don’t,” Duchess moaned, pressing herself harder into his hand. “I hate it.”

  He ignored that, kissing her again, swallowing down her gasps of pleasure as he continued to torture her nipple with his thumb, pressing his aching hard-on between her thighs, into the wet heat that waited for him there.

  “Beg me to fuck you,” he ordered. “Beg me, Duchess.”

  She shook as he pinched the hard tip of her breast yet again, straining against his hold. “If you want to make me beg, you’ll have to try harder that that.

  He growled and released her wrists, lifting her into his arms and carrying her over to the couch so he could get complete access to her. Instantly, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, her mouth at his throat, her tongue on his skin, licking and teasing and kissing him feverishly.

  Jesus Christ, she was going to find his limit if she wasn’t careful. Shit, he was pushing up against it already.

  He put her down on the couch and ripped off her pajama bottoms, finally getting her naked, and he wanted very much to turn on the light and look at her, spend at least a couple of hours examining her from every angle, but there was no time.

  She’d already sat up, reaching for his zipper, but if she thought she could take control of this, she was going to need to think again.

  He grabbed her wrists once more, holding them tightly in one of his hands, ignoring her protests as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket with the other. Flipping it open one-handed, he managed to extract a condom from it, then he dropped the wallet, put the packet between his teeth and pulled open the front of his jeans.

  She watched him from beneath her lashes, her body pale in the dimness, but he could see the quick rise and fall of her breasts, hear the sound of her panting breaths. “What are you afraid of, Quinn?” she taunted huskily. “Scared I’m going to make you lose control?”

  Perceptive woman. Too fucking perceptive.

  “No,” he said roughly. “Not when you’re the one staring at my cock.” Because her gaze had dropped to his open fly, to where his dick was standing up, hard and ready for her. And was that a widening of her eyes he detected? A flare of intense hunger?

  Yeah, it was. She wanted him, the little tease. She wanted him badly.

  Ripping the packet open with his teeth, he managed to get the out the condom and sheath himself. Then he took her wrists in both hands once more, pushing her down on her back on the couch, while he positioned himself between her spread thighs.

  “What were you saying about control?” He shifted his hips, rubbing the head of his cock against her slick flesh, and she gasped, squirming beneath him as he nudged her clit.

  “B-Bastard.”

  “Wrong answer.” He nudged her clit again, the heat and slickness almost causing him physical pain. But he had a point to prove and he was going to fucking prove it. “Who’s in control now, Lily Hammond?”

  “You’re such as asshole,” she moaned.

  “Nothing you didn’t know already.” He bent and licked the hollow of her throat, tasting her skin, the flavor of her going straight to his head. “Answer the fucking question.”

  “What question?” She tilted her hips, arching up into him, her body soft and silky against his, showing him once again that if he wasn’t careful, she was going to make good on her promise of making him lose his goddamn mind.

  So he ground slowly against her clit as he bit the side of her neck, relishing the shudder that went through her entire body and the long, low moan that broke from her. “Answer me,” he ordered. “Or I’m going to keep teasing that little clit all night, and you’re never going to get to come.”

  “Like you could hold out,” she shot back, but her voice was cracking and her body was trembling.

  So he ground against her again, pressing her hands to the cushions on either side of her head, licking down her throat to one sweetly rounded breast, circling her nipple with his tongue.

  “Quinn…” His name was a soft moan and this time there was surrender in it.

  And something dark and possessive stretched out inside him.

  “Say it,” he breathed against her damp skin
. “Who’s in charge, Lily?”

  She was panting now, her breath coming fast and hard. “Y-You are.”

  “Damn fucking straight. And you want my cock, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” The word was husky, the sound so goddamn sweet. Because now he had her exactly where he wanted her, where he’d always wanted her, right from the moment he’d first seen her, sashaying into Lone Star one day and informing him that he had a new rival. And he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. Duchess, all cool and untouchable, just begging to be messed with.

  Sneaky little girl. He hadn’t seen it then, but perhaps he’d sensed it. That the iciness of Duchess was the armor she wore, the front she used to hide the woman underneath. The hot, passionate, sensual Lily.

  And somehow he knew that she didn’t let herself be Lily for anyone else. That only he got to see her like this. And it made the dark possessiveness inside him tighten its grip.

  She’s yours now.

  Yeah, fuck, she was. And he wasn’t going to settle for one quick fuck on the couch. He wasn’t going to settle for her being Duchess with him, with her prim little pencil skirts, her sweet blouses with bows, her sexy fucking stiletto sandals, teasing him and taunting him, baiting him. Pushing him with her cool blue eyes and her secrets.

  No, he was done with that.

  Her biggest secret was how hot and desperate she was deep down, and he knew it now, and he wasn’t going to settle for less. Lily, naked and desperate and under him was what he wanted and now he had her, he was going to keep her until he was done.

  “Beg me, baby,” he growled, easing the head of his cock just a little way into her tight, wet pussy, making them both shudder. “You’ve been doing nothing but teasing me for fucking months and it’s my turn now. I want to hear you beg for it.”

  Her hips lifted, the scent of her all wet and aroused, making his mouth water. Oh yeah, he was going to get to that too, get to her sweet cunt and taste her, eat her right up. “You fucking bastard,” she whispered raggedly. “Please…”

  “The words, Lily. Say the words.”

  “I want your c-cock, Quinn,” she stuttered. “Please, give it to me.”

  But he wasn’t done. “I fuck you right now and it’s over, you hear me? You’re in my bed until we’re both done with each other.”

  She made a frustrated sound, her hands straining against his hold. “For God’s sake, why are you still talking? Fuck me, already.”

  “Answer me, damn you.” He stared down into her darkened eyes. “Once I’m inside you, that’s it. No more distance. No more fucking restraint. And Lily, there’ll be no more fucking secrets, either, and I need you to understand that.”

  Her nails dug into his skin. “Yes, okay, I understand.”

  “Tell me then.”

  “Quinn.” She scratched him, hard. “Stop it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Oh God, okay.” She took a ragged breath. “No distance. No restraint. And no more fucking secrets. Happy?”

  The dark, possessive feeling wrapped around him and he let it.

  “Tell me what you want.” He lowered his head, his mouth inches from hers, shifting his hips, pressing his cock a little deeper but not too much, teasing them both. “Tell me again.”

  She groaned, arching underneath him. “Fuck me, Quinn. Please.”

  He didn’t need a third time, pressing her down into the couch as he thrust deep and hard inside her.

  Seven

  Every nerve ending Lily had was alight and so achingly sensitive that when Quinn pushed inside her, she came almost immediately, the intensity of the orgasm making her cry out, her body shuddering beneath his.

  She was utterly unprepared for it. Achieving a climax had always been difficult for her with a partner and she’d kind of assumed that it would be the same with Quinn — if they ever had sex that was.

  But she was now definitely having sex and she was beneath him, held down by his massive, sculpted body. Utterly unable to move. Pinned by his hands and his cock, and out of her mind with desperation. And coming, holy fuck, she was coming. Hard.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The waves of pleasure were tearing her apart and she had no choice but to let them, a sob of ecstasy catching in her throat, her eyes prickling with unfamiliar tears.

  And he didn’t stop. She could feel her own flesh parting for him as he sunk deeper, her sex stretching around him then gripping him in the most delicious way. It made her pant, because it had been such a long time since she’d had a man inside her. Such a very, very long time. And he was…oh, God, he was even bigger than she was expecting.

  It was overwhelming. He was overwhelming.

  “Quinn…” His name escaped desperately as she tried to find someplace to escape the burn of pleasure, get some respite, but she couldn’t find one; he was everywhere.

  His magnificent, rock-hard body was above her, his skin so hot she felt as if she was lying in the middle of a fire. And his warm, spicy scent was cut through with the muskiness of clean male sweat and arousal, and that was everywhere too.

  The intensity of the first orgasm began to recede, but not the hunger. It was still there, pulsing, throbbing, making her want him as desperately as she had before.

  Dimly, in the back of her mind, a warning sounded, but she couldn’t concentrate on it, not when he was sinking even deeper, tearing another cry from her throat as her body began the relentless climb back into pleasure again.

  She had no idea how she’d gotten here. One minute she’d been creeping down to the kitchen because she hadn’t been able to sleep after that text, the next she was lying naked on the couch with Quinn inside her.

  She’d just gotten so furious with him and with herself, too. Furious that she simply hadn’t given him what he’d wanted a day or so ago, in which case this whole situation could have been avoided. Furious that apparently all he had to do was back her against a wall and she was ready to come on the spot. Furious that she wanted him as badly and as completely as she did.

  A fury that had gotten out of hand, as her temper always did.

  She should have walked away as soon as she’d realized her control was starting to crack, but she hadn’t. And now here she was, naked and beneath him, and already one orgasm down.

  You are so screwed. Literally.

  “Like that, did you?” he murmured, finally loosening his grip on her wrist so he could slide a palm beneath her butt, lifting her hips and angling them. “Well, feel free to come all over my cock again.” And he thrust all the way inside, sinking himself to the hilt.

  She moaned, trembling, the pleasure sinking sharp teeth into her. It had never been like this, never. Mainly because she’d never been attracted to anyone the way she’d been attracted to Quinn, and that had been a very deliberate choice.

  Control was so important to her and she’d never wanted to compromise that with a man who threatened it.

  But she’d known the day she’d first walked into Lone Star to introduce herself to the infamous Quinn Redmond, and found him, tall and broad and unbearably hot, his green eyes watching her, radiating danger and command, giving her that flat-out sexy ‘don’t fuck with me’ look.

  And of course she hadn’t been able to resist him, even though she’d tried. Even though it had shocked her, appalled her, that she should be drawn to a man like him. Drawn to his strength and his blunt honesty and the the hot spark in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

  She got to him and she knew it. And so she hadn’t been able to stay away.

  Challenging and testing him had woken a part of her she hadn’t even realized had been sleeping, and she’d always known she was playing with fire. That one day it was going to burn them both alive.

  Now that day was here and she was goddamn ash already, and if she’d had any sense at all, she would have run screaming into the hills the day she’d met him. But she hadn’t.

  You’ve only got yourself to blame.

  She was panting, conscious
of the hard grip of his fingers around her wrists, holding her down, and she was desperate to touch him, follow the hard contours of his heavily muscled chest. Even in the dim light of the room, she could see the outlines of his tattoos. The eagle and trident of the SEAL inked into his skin another reminder of who he was.

  He was so hot. So fucking sexy. And she’d begged him, she’d actually fucking begged him. What was happening to her? What had he done to her?

  His eyes were black in the darkness of the room, and there was no escaping the ferocity of his stare. She was pinned by it, unable to look away.

  He was in control. He was absolutely in control and she’d done nothing to stop him. She hadn’t even put up a fight. It was almost as if she wanted him to take that control from her, which was surely wrong. Because why would she want that after Mason had tried to manipulate her? After her father had used her to con people out of their money?

  But she must have given away something, because then Quinn ordered, rough and dark, “Stop thinking, baby. The only thing you should be doing right now is concentrating on my cock in your pussy and getting yourself ready to come.”

  The raw, erotic words made everything inside her clench and when he began to move, she shivered. The size of him stretching her and the friction as he thrust inside her were so exquisite she could barely breathe.

  Quinn let go of her other wrist to brace himself on the arm of the couch, gripping onto it and using it as leverage so he could drive himself into her, harder, deeper.

  “Give it to me,” he demanded, looking down at her as he thrust. “Come on, Lily. Give it to me.”

  She lifted her hands, pressing them against the hard muscle of his chest, testing him, the prickle of hair against her palms and the slide of his cock inside her so delicious she could hardly bear it.

  “Give you what?” she panted, scraping her nails lightly across his skin. “You have to say the words, Quinn.”

  His eyes glinted in the darkness and his mouth curved, a feral smile to match the one she’d given him just before. “If you can speak, I’m clearly not doing a good enough job.”