by Fox, Logan
His buckle clattered to the wet terrace. He clawed at her dress, ripping it over her hips and letting it bundle at her feet.
Rain pricked into her naked flesh. Her skin broke out in goosebumps when a gust of wind slid against her bare back.
Kane’s warm body replaced the roughness of his jeans, and his cock ground against her rain-wet pussy so hard that she gasped into their kiss. Kane grabbed her ass in his hands and lifted her an inch from the ground.
For a terrifying moment, she thought he’d hoist her up on the railing.
The world spun around her, bobbing and weaving like a balloon in a gust of wind. Instinctively, she clasped her legs around his waist and grabbed him around the back of the neck with her arms.
Her lower back crashed into the railing as Kane bruised her lips with his kiss. The tip of his cock glided over her entrance, too hot compared with the icy wind and rain.
She shuddered, her teeth clacking together before she could clench her jaw.
Kane froze, using both his hands to wipe hair from her face.
His gaze darted to her mouth, and he stared wide eyed at her for a moment before speaking.
“Your lips are going blue,” he murmured, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.
He swung around with a low-throated growl that grated with a desperate need. Her heart thumped in her chest as she struggled, trying to slip from his grip.
“That doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this,” he said, a laugh wreathing his words. “I’m just taking you someplace warmer.”
* * *
Cora should have known it was useless trying to fight him. Her little body didn’t have the strength to free itself from his grip. Yet when he pushed her onto the sofa, pinning her as much with his weight as with his limbs, her struggles intensified.
He knew she wanted him. Wanton lust warmed her cheeks and made her eyes sparkle. And when he shoved a hand between her legs and felt the slickness of her arousal pooling from her, he knew her body had surrendered.
Which made him want to take his time getting there. Even though his cock ached with the need to be piercing the most secret part of her, his mind enjoyed the hunt and scramble so much more.
He might even let her get away again.
Raking his fingertips through her cunt, he forced her breath from her with another ferocious kiss.
If he’d had any doubts, that kiss would have been a one-way affair. Him taking what he wanted, her trying to refuse him.
But she opened her lips readily to him, encouraging his tongue to fill her. To explore her.
To own her.
How sweet she tasted. How enthusiastic. But how would she fuck?
He grabbed the length of his cock, smearing the tip over her slit until she moaned into their kiss and bucked her hips.
Eager. Willing. Ready.
He exhaled, breaking their kiss to take a breath big enough to push his lungs against her pert little tits.
His thumb found its way into her cunt, and he had the first half-inch of his cock ready to delve into her before he pulled away.
Her hips bucked again, and those golden eyes opened, wide and wet with need.
“Do you still want to run?” he asked, his voice tight with the effort it took to hold himself back from fucking her right then and there.
She shook her head.
He slid his free hand over the front of her throat and squeezed.
There was no terror in her hooded eyes. He kissed her again, pushing hard against her without penetrating her.
He raked his teeth down her throat, shifting his grip to her hair.
The sofa was too soft. She kept shifting under him. He wanted to fuck her so hard she’d beg him to stop and plead with him to make her come.
Kane dragged her off the sofa, onto the thick, pale carpet. For a moment, her eyes flared wide with shock, but then he grabbed her leg and wrenched it into a hard angle, and to the side. He stared at her slit and the tiny triangle of dark curls above it. His cock lay heavy and aching on top of her belly.
When he bucked his hips, the sensation of his dick trailing down her damp skin sent a chill through his body.
He pressed against her cunt, glancing up when she mewled. He grabbed her other leg, placing it exactly like the other, and lay his hands over her knees, pushing them even further apart.
But her tight cunt refused to part for him.
“Open,” he said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.
His dick hung ramrod stiff an inch from her cunt, but he didn’t want to dig his way inside her.
Cora’s hand appeared, her fingers trembling as she gingerly touched her folds.
“Both hands,” came his rasped command.
Letting out another kitten-soft sound, she used both her hands to hold herself open for him.
He dipped his hips, touching the crown of his cock against her pink lips where that darker slit beckoned him so.
Then he looked up. Their gazes locked, Cora’s lips parting as she gasped for breath. He leaned forward until their faces were less than an inch apart, grabbed her throat and the side of her face, and eased into her.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she let out a breathless moan.
“Look at me.”
Golden irises shrank as she focused on his eyes.
He drew out, teased her with the tip of his cock, and thrust into her again.
Her eyes slitted, but she kept them open. Her mouth gaped, her tits pressing urgently against his chest as she struggled for breath.
Releasing her throat, Kane raked his nails over her skin. He grabbed her leg, pushing it up and leaning his weight into the back of her thigh.
Which opened her another inch for him.
He sank deeper, teeth gritted from the intense pleasure at filling her so completely. Her cunt clung to him, milking him as she went into a throe of delicious shudders under him.
Mercy, he was close.
What the fuck had she done to him?
He wanted to watch her as he fucked her, as he forced himself harder and deeper inside her, but her trembling lips begged for a kiss.
This time, despite the ferocious urge to consume her, their lips barely brushed.
Somehow, it was more intoxicating.
He groaned, the sound wrenched from deep in his throat, and his cock pulsed in warning.
How could he be seconds away?
He jerked out of her - as pissed off at himself as he was at her. Making sure just the tip of his cock stayed buried inside her cunt, he let their kiss swell and retreat.
His heart settled from a frantic pounding to a hard and insistent thump-thump-thump.
Cora squirmed and writhed under him, impatient to have him inside her again. Impatient for her climax.
But she didn’t know him, did she? She didn’t know how much he loved to tease.
* * *
Cora’s head floated somewhere by the ceiling. She couldn’t feel the carpet under her anymore. Couldn’t feel anything except Kane’s lips and the promise of his cock gliding over her pussy.
She tried bucking her hips, and as if in punishment, Kane wrenched back her other leg.
Now her knees were against her breasts, barely enough space between them for Kane’s slim body.
He drew back from that tantalizingly slow kiss and dragged his cock against her with a gentle buck of his hips.
“Please,” she murmured, the word trembling.
“You’re not in control here, sweetheart. You’ll take it like I give it.”
“Fuck, please!” she wailed. Her hands squirmed between them, and she grabbed his cock, trying to urge him inside her.
He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head on the carpet. Then he forced his cock inside her, eyes fixed on hers every inch of the way.
That eye contact was so intimate, so sensual, she felt seconds away from coming. Her core throbbed heat and pleasure through her. She sighed and let her eyes close, wondering if she could orgas
m if he just stayed inside her like this.
He pulsed inside her.
Was he coming?
Her eyes shot open, finding that crooked smile trained on him.
“We should go,” he said, as simply as if they were discussing the weather. “You don’t want to be late for your meeting, do you?”
He crushed his mouth against hers, fucked her one last time so hard that she mewled against his lips, and sat up.
He grabbed a chenille throw draped artistically over the arm of the sofa he’d pinned her to moments ago and used it to clean his cock and wiped it over her pussy so hard she almost came.
Her hand shot between her legs, fingers massaging hard against her clit.
Kane snatched her hands away, pinning them to the carpet again.
He leaned over her, feline in his smugness. “You will wait.”
She squirmed, whined, and clamped her legs together. “I can’t,” she said.
“You can. You will.” He used his elbow to push her legs apart and ran his knuckles over her clit. “And I promise you, it will be worth it.”
27
One-Minute Past
Owen glanced at his limited-edition Bulgari timepiece. A gift from Ronan on Owen’s last birthday, nearly a year ago.
It had just gone one. He was right on time.
Movement caught his eye. He stopped walking at the sight of Darcy.
She wore a billowy gown which would have been racy if there hadn’t been so much of it. Layer upon diaphanous layer of fabric cloaked her, hiding everything but the vaguest suggestion of her curves from sight.
“What are you doing?” Owen whispered, casting a glance over his shoulder as if Ronan’s eyes were on him.
Darcy opened her mouth, and he knew she’d speak loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear. He grabbed her shoulders and herded her down the hall and around the corner. Trust her to decide their routine needed switching up. If anyone saw her like this?
She still made a noise, but it turned out a muffled gasp that would hopefully be inaudible to anyone more than a few yards away.
Why was he being so goddamned paranoid lately?
“I’m sorry,” Darcy breathed, as if she’d just realized how idiotic she was being. “I thought you weren’t coming anymore.”
“At one minute past?” he whispered furiously in reply. He pressed his lips together. “You can’t let people see you like this.”
“What people?” Darcy frowned up at him. “No one ever comes down this hall except you and Ronan.”
Owen sighed and gave Darcy the faintest of smiles. “You couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”
Her brown eyes glowed, catching a stray beam of sunlight from a nearby window. “Could you?”
If shit in this world wasn’t random, then there were some sick deities hanging around and their only goal seemed to make humans utterly miserable. Take Darcy — for her to wind up as Ronan’s wife was like an eagle wedding a field mouse. Oh, what fun the eagle had… but he sincerely doubted that mouse’s little heart ever stopped pounding, even for just one moment.
He touched her jaw. “I can’t stay. Not with everything going on right now.”
Her mouth pinched closed as he took a slow step back, and she grabbed at him. “Owen!”
“Shh!” he hissed, darting forward.
He pinned her frail body to the wall, a hand over her mouth and his body flush with hers.
And oh, how that little heart of hers drummed.
Her lips moved under his fingers. He peeled them away, shushing her with a single finger until she nodded.
Then her cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink, and she dropped her eyes.
“What? What is it?” he asked quietly.
She looked up at him. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered, and bit her lip. “I’m pregnant, Owen!”
“Shh.” He pressed against her, their foreheads together.
“Finally, after all—”
All it took was a gentle touch to her lips to silence her. Confused eyes flickered as she watched him uneasily.
His mouth pulled into a smile. “That’s wonderful. Just wonderful.”
She began crying. He brushed a silver tear from her cheek.
In a leaden voice, Owen added, “He’s going to be so happy.”
28
Benny
Jazz played in the hotel’s dining room. And Cora had to endure the music while wearing an itchy, damp dress — she’d done her best with the hotel’s hair dryer, but it hadn’t been enough — a clit still aching from Kane’s attention, and a slight headache. Probably caused by her denied orgasm.
If he hadn’t ripped her dress off in the rain, she wouldn’t have had to dry it.
If he hadn’t decided he had to almost-fuck her minutes before this meeting… then she wouldn’t feel like a coiled spring, waiting to pop.
She shot Kane a glare over her shoulder. It made him pause, and frown at her in confusion.
Because he wasn’t a mind reader. But she’d make sure he knew why she was so damn pissed at him.
There were only two occupied tables in the dining room — an elderly couple wearing matching Hawaiian print shirts, and a Latino man sitting by himself smoking a cigarillo.
“Hold,” Kane murmured, tugging on her wrist as she was about to descend the hotel’s beige, carpeted steps into the dining room area.
“What?” she whispered, her eyes set on the man who had to be Benecio.
“Let me first figure out where he’s hiding his muscle.”
“Maybe under his shirt,” Cora muttered, but half to herself.
“I don’t see them,” Kane said.
“Maybe he doesn’t have any,” she replied, glancing up at him over her shoulder. “Can we go?”
“Doesn’t make any sense,” Kane replied quietly as he trailed her through the dining room.
Benecio half sat, half lounged in a dining room chair that wasn’t designed for the purpose of lounging. He had one arm on the table, a dark cigarette dangling from his fingertips as he rolled its ashy tip around in the ashtray. The other hung from the back of his chair, twisting his body into something that couldn’t have been as comfortable as he made it look. His dark hair looked as if he’d run his fingers through it after getting out the shower, his clothes as if he’d been in a car for a few hours — sweat stained and rumpled at elbows and knees. He was in his mid to late thirties — crow’s feet by his eyes but not a touch of gray in his hair.
He’d been watching the old couple a few tables away, but perhaps sensing movement in his peripheries, he turned to watch Cora approach. Midnight black eyes tracked her across the dining room floor. They scanned her fleetingly — her hair, her face, her dress, her legs — but with as much interest as an airport security scanner.
She stopped a foot away, her heart speeding up when Benecio simply watched her. Not standing, not speaking, not doing any fucking thing.
Giving suddenly dry lips a quick swipe with her tongue, Cora stuck out her hand. “You must be Benecio,” she said.
Her hand hung out there in the open as air currents swirled over it, but without Benecio making so much as a move to take it. Instead, he flicked a fingernail against the tip of his cigarillo, and put it to his lips. He narrowed one eye as he dragged at it, and sat forward, resting his arms on his knees. He cocked a chin to the chair opposite him.
Was it intentional that he’d chosen a two-seater table for them to meet? Cora withdrew her hand — maybe Benecio was a germaphobe — and stood to the side. Kane pulled out her chair, pushing it in as she sat.
At least he had manners.
“Did you have a pleasant trip—?” Cora began, laying her hands side by side on the table so she didn’t fidget.
“How old are you?” Benecio asked.
Although, it was less of a question and more of an interrogation. He’d pushed back his chair so there was enough room for him to stretch his legs — he still sat forward, but now he toyed with a wedding ba
nd as he studied her with what she hoped was intrigue.
Let it not be doubt — she’d be fucked if he thought her anything but a cartel leader capable of setting up a heroin route into the US.
Not only her, but Bailey too.
Ronan was counting on her to make this deal.
Fuck it, she was counting on herself to make this damn deal.
Cora cleared her throat. “I don’t see what my age—”
Benecio stood, letting out a bemused grunt as he moved to crush his cigarillo in the ashtray. “Come here, fucking waste my time—”
Cora’s heart thundered into overdrive. She grabbed a hold of Benecio’s hand before she reigned herself in. “Twenty-one,” she snapped. “And I apologize if I’ve offended you.”
Benecio blew out a thin plume of smoke as he studied her and Kane. He gave a never minded shrug and sank back into his chair. His eyes flickered to Kane. “It was you I spoke to, on the phone?”
Cora glanced over her shoulder at Kane in time to see him give a minuscule nod in Benecio’s direction. Benecio crossed his arms and used his thumb to point at Cora as his eyes turned to her. “Why didn’t you make the call?”
“Would you still have met?” she asked. She hadn’t meant for the question to come out so bitterly, but she had no intention of apologizing a second time.
Benecio let out a dry laugh, leaning back in his seat. “No.”
She kept silent, waiting for him to weigh whatever scales he had in his head — how much he wanted to sell his product versus how much he would trust a twenty-one-year-old chica he’d probably never heard of.
“I am La—” she began, hoping that giving herself a title would weigh the scales in her favor.
“I know who you are.” Benecio watched her for a moment, a strange smile on his mouth. “We’ve heard about you.”
“We?”
Benecio’s smile inched up, but didn’t become any warmer. Then he glanced around, motioned to a nearby chair, and pointed at Kane. “Why don’t you join us?”