by Mazzy King
But my body does.
I take the seven or so steps to close the distance between us, press my body against his, and claim his mouth.
5
Dominic
She was standing across the room one second, and the next…she’s pressed against me. Her mouth is on mine. And after half of one second of shock, I return her kiss with everything I have.
I only intended to ask if she owned a pair of sweatpants that even came a little close to maybe fitting me—I’d probably end up hiding out in her apartment for the night, and don’t want to sleep in my jeans. But the look on her face when she saw me, fresh out of the shower wearing only a towel, shredded the last of the tightly restrained bonds of politeness that remained between us ever since I walked into Triple 6 tonight.
Her body is deliciously warm, and I give up all hope of trying to make my dick behave. It’s so hard it aches, and it seems to only grow harder with each smack of our lips, each slow tangle of our tongues. Who am I kidding? I felt the way she did the second I saw her in her comfortable clothes—leggings that showcase her shapely thighs, her perfect round ass, and the top I could damn near see through. Her breasts sit high and perky, and her nipples were so hard I started salivating.
I want to be buried deep inside her. I want to feel her pussy clench on my cock as I make her come at least three times before I dare to. But more than that, I want to taste her. Every. Inch.
“Fuck, Serena,” I mumble against her mouth. I grab a handful of her hair and tug gently to expose her neck. I run my tongue along her jaw and pause on the pulse just beneath it, then trail lower.
“Dom,” she gasps as I nibble on the beautiful curve where her neck melds into her shoulder.
My hands are busy, first exploring the smooth warm skin of her back and then down further to shamelessly grip overflowing handfuls of her scrumptious ass. She’s equal parts tight and curvy, and if I had to pick a favorite body part at gunpoint, I’d have to say it’s a tie between thighs and ass. There’s just nothing like a luscious, soft, thick pair of thighs holding a man in place while he goes to work.
“Touch me,” she says breathily, and it’s both a plea and an order. My dick gets even harder.
I slide my hands under her top in the front, roving the soft, flat plane of her belly before reaching up to cup her breasts. I swipe my thumbs over her nipples and my mouth waters again.
I pull her shirt off and waste no time lowering my face to her chest. Her breasts are gorgeous, round, lush, and there’s a small, pretty tattoo of a lily on the side of her right breast. I tease that with the tip of my tongue, watching and feeling her nipples harden as I do. Then I trail my lips to her nipples and lick and suck them until she moans. She backs me into the bedroom, her hands gripping my shoulders and back. The sweet bite of her nails follows soon after.
Her flesh is good, but it’s not quite enough. I need to taste her elsewhere. I return to her mouth, coaxing it open wide so I can give her my tongue, and tug at the waistband of her leggings.
“I’m thirsty,” I whisper against her lips, easing her down onto her back. I pull those glorious leggings off her even more amazing legs—tan and smooth and shapely and soft—then I pull those thighs slowly apart. Her left thigh has a large, intricate tattoo of a lioness’s head in between clusters of flowers. It’s a beautiful piece of art, and it also turns me right the hell on.
Even in the dim light of her bedroom, I can see she’s all smooth flesh between her legs, with an artfully shaped little triangular patch of hair at the top. My dick silently begs me for relief. I brush my fingers against the puffy lips of her pussy and she cries out softly, gripping two fistfuls of her comforter.
Holy fucking crap. She is soaked. I can’t contain a moan of desire as her silky wetness slides between my fingers.
I lean over her and spread her thighs nice and wide. There’ll be plenty of time later to feel them wrapped around me. I use the tip of my tongue to tease her folds with soft little licks and she squirms frantically.
“Please,” she whimpers. “I need to feel your tongue.”
I love a direct woman who knows just what she wants and damn sure ain’t afraid to ask for it. I slide my tongue between her lips and sweet Christ, I’ve never tasted anything so heady and delicious. She was a lying liar at the bar when she told me she wasn’t that sweet—she tastes like a juicy, ripe pineapple and I’m immediately addicted.
I grip her thighs and eat her in earnest, working my lips and tongue in a pattern my body has created solely for her. Her soft wails of pleasure are music to my ears, and when she starts grinding against my mouth, it both makes my cock leak with excitement and lets me know she’s about to come. I want it all in my mouth, so I don’t let up.
“Fuck, Dom!” she moans in this unbearably sexy, raspy voice.
Juice floods my mouth and her clit pulses against my tongue. She reaches down and grabs a fistful of my hair, holding me in place while she works her pussy against my tongue. If I could make a career out of eating her every day and night and giving her soul-shattering orgasms, I would tell Ridge City PD to go fuck themselves.
Finally, her body stills, and it’s only then that I lift my mouth, dripping, from between her legs. I need to be in her now.
She seems to be thinking the same thing. Her pale eyes glow with lust as she grabs my hips to pull me close, and I groan, deep and long, when the tip of my thick, nine-inch cock starts to nudge through her soaked opening. She is fucking tight, and I hope to God I won’t come the second I’m all the way inside.
As I push through an inch at a time, pushing, withdrawing, pushing, withdrawing, I feel her start to clench and tremble.
“I’m fucking coming,” she gasps, and when I slide all the way home, she erupts around me.
It takes every drop of willpower I didn’t know I had not to explode and fill her with my seed.
“You are so fucking sexy and beautiful,” I whisper, working my hips slowly, as if afraid a bomb’s going to go off. Hell, it just might.
“You’re amazing,” she gasps, her head thrust back.
She is hot and tight and slick around me, and it’s the most amazing sensation I’ve ever felt in my life. To distract myself, I lean down and lightly kiss the bruises on the front of her throat, running my tongue up and down them as I slowly push my hips forward, hitting her to her limit, then pulling back. I circle my hips to grind deep and slow, because it’s the only way I’m going to exercise control over my own body.
Her thighs are full and soft and I grip and squeeze them as I fuck her. I nudge a shoulder under one of her knees to spread her open even more.
“Fuck me hard,” she begs, tugging at my hips.
“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper against her mouth, and drive my dick into her, reaching for that sweet spot I know she needs hit.
After only a few thrusts, she grabs the back of my neck, and I feel her entire body go tight, inside and out. “I’m coming,” she confesses. “Oh, fuck yes. Don’t stop, Dom!”
I can’t hold out anymore. I fuck her hard and fast, and as she comes around me, I join her, spilling everything I have inside her with a roar.
For what feels like a lifetime, we don’t move. I tilt my forehead against hers, staying tight inside her warmth. Pulling away from her feels like a crime that should be punished to the full extent of the law, but eventually, I do.
But I don’t go far, and I won’t let her, either. I gather her against me, all silken skin and fragrant hair.
After a moment, she speaks, her voice carrying quietly into the still room. “You should know… I don’t—I mean, this isn’t normal behavior for me. I just—”
“Me either,” I reply, touched she feels the need to justify her actions to me as if I would ever judge her. “So I hope you don’t think badly of me. I’m not that kind of guy, I swear.”
I’m kind of joking, mostly serious, and she strokes the arm I have wrapped over the top of her lightly.
“You’re some kind of
special, Dominic Black,” she whispers.
For some odd reason, those words cause a pang deep in my heart and leave me speechless. All I can do is hold her tighter, kiss her temple, and pray the night will never end.
6
Serena
Dominic falls asleep before I do. I lie in his arms, blinking into the velvety blackness of the night, thinking about what we just did and wondering if it was a mistake.
Hmm. Mistake? I think of him touching me, his hands eager but gentle. I think of his tongue sliding between my thighs and deep inside me as if I were the most exquisite dessert on a five-star restaurant’s menu. I think of his long, thick cock, filling me to the brim, stroking every nerve-ending lining my walls and bringing me more pleasure than I ever thought possible.
No, that certainly did not feel like a mistake.
You don’t know the first thing about him, a voice chides from the recesses of my brain. How can you possibly be falling for a man you know nothing about? Other than the fact he’s a drug dealer with people on his ass who want him dead?
For a second, logical clarity breaks through. How can I be falling for a man like that—and holy hell, am I ever falling.
He nuzzles the back of my head and neck, his soft, warm, even breaths heating my skin. Though he’s deep asleep, his arms are still firm around me—possessive, as if he never intends to let me go. He oozes masculinity, and it makes me feel both physically fragile and totally secure. There’s no way in hell anyone could ever hurt me with Dominic’s arms around me.
It is possible to fall in love in the span of an evening? Because this evening has felt like an eternity. His body spooning mine, his heavy arms, the insane pleasure he gives me—it all feels so natural, so effortless, like we were always meant to be together and it was only a matter of time before it happened.
Like our souls have been acquainted before, and now they’re connected again, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Did he mean what he said? That he didn’t do this kind of thing? He’d sounded sincere, and my bullshit-o-meter is always on point. But what if he’s an excellent liar? What if I’m being totally naïve? What if he isn’t who he says he is?
I’m not who you think I am. I need you to trust me.
He’s got a secret, and he wants to tell me. I know this in my bones. But for some reason, he can’t yet. Maybe the least I can do—for him, and for my heart—is stick around long enough to hear what it is. For as much as logic is screaming to be acknowledged in my head, my instincts tell me I’m safe. I feel it, in the pit of my stomach.
Ugh. Oh, man.
I feel something else right now, too—the need to pee.
Peeing after sex is something every responsible woman should do for the sake of her glorious vagina, so as much as I do not want to leave the safety and warmth of Dominic’s arms, I ease out from underneath them and pad naked into the bathroom. I run the water, nice and hot, while I take care of business. I’m feeling so relaxed and sated and—and damn, but I’m sore. I wasn’t kidding when I said I swore off men for the better part of six months, and I don’t do one-night stands, either, so a dry spell was a dry spell, indeed. The ache, though, is only a reminder of the incredible pleasure he gave me. Three times, he made me come, and while grinding my pussy against his mouth and tongue and coming all over them both was the second greatest sexual experience I’ve ever had, nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever beat the feeling of coming with that thick cock of his deep inside me as he worked it expertly, as if it was only there to bring me to orgasm.
My pussy throbs a little at the thought before I use a warm, soft washcloth to clean myself. Maybe Dominic will be up for round two. Except this time, I’ll be on top—but only after I find out what he tastes like.
Under the sound of the running water, I think I hear…talking.
Dominic talking.
I put my ear to the door and listen hard.
“…don’t know, Rhys. I have no idea how he made me. That’s not the most important thing right now. I saw them walk into this building. They had to be following me. They should be gone now, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
A hard knot centers itself right beneath my sternum. He must be using my phone—as I offered, so that’s okay, but…who is Rhys? Another drug dealer?
Dominic is quiet for a long moment, to the point that I wonder if he’s off the phone. Then he says, “I’ve been laying low, is what I’ve been doing. Trying to keep out of sight. Besides, I don’t want to get her mixed up in any of this any more than she has been. …She had a fucking gun to her head, Rhys.”
I barely notice when my breathing increases, but that feeling of dread intensifies.
“I need to get out of here,” Dominic goes on. “Before anything else bad happens. I need to get her someplace safe. I need help. I need backup.”
Backup?
Like…a cop?
My jaw drops. Is he a cop?
Then I dismiss it. It’s too outlandish for me to even fathom. There’s no way in hell. More than likely, he’s part of some drug operation and the Rhys guy is his boss or superior or however the fuck that shit works, and Dominic is in deep shit.
The thought of him getting hurt makes my heart rate speed up with total anxiety.
At that moment, there are three knocks on the door and even though they’re gentle, they make me leap back in surprise.
“Serena?” Dominic calls softly. “Are you all right in there?”
“F-fine,” I stammer back. My bathrobe is hanging on the hook beside the door. I snatch it off and throw it on, then open up. He’s draped the towel around his waist, and my ladybits quiver again. Goddamn, he’s sexy. Why does he have to be so sexy? “I was just cleaning up.”
He studies me closely with a gaze so intense it’s like he can see right through me. Like he knows I know something’s up.
“You sure you’re okay?”
I nod and smile. “Yes.”
He doesn’t look convinced. Then he hands me my phone. “I needed to make a call. Thanks for letting me use it. I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.”
I shrug, wondering if he saw the thousand corgi photos I have saved in there, because I’ve always wanted one and just looking at their adorable faces and stubby legs makes me happy. The idea he might have uncovered that slight obsession makes me blush.
“It’s fine. I already said you could use it.” I lean on the doorframe and put a hand on my hip. “What’s going on?”
He hesitates.
I wait for the lie.
“I don’t want to insult your intelligence with a lie,” he says softly, and once again, surprise zips through me. “You’re too smart for that, and I respect you too much.” He brushes a lock of my long, dark hair over my shoulder and I can’t even try to suppress a shiver. “So what I’m going to tell you is that I can’t tell you. And that I need you to trust me.”
“Again?” I say. “Do you actually intend on telling me something, at some point? Or are you just saying that to shut me up?”
He pauses again, his lips pursed in a way that makes me want to rip that towel away from him and ride him like an equestrian.
“If you actually want me to tell you later on, I will. If I’m able.”
I’m even more confused than ever, and open my mouth to protest.
Before I can say a word, he leans in close and kisses me softly. “Please. Don’t argue with me now. I need to get out of here, and I need to take you somewhere safe.”
I sigh, his kiss still tingling on my lips. “Then let’s go.”
7
Dominic
Serena says she’s got a sister who lives on the other side of town, who she can drop in on whenever. This situation definitely constitutes a “whenever” occasion, but I’m still doing my best to play things somewhat lowkey. People don’t think clearly when they panic. Luckily my training taught me how to stay calm even in the most serious circumstances, but Serena’s not a cop. She’s one of the people
I took a vow to serve and protect.
And right now, she’s the only one I want to serve and protect.
I dress quickly as she throws some clothes into a duffel bag. She hesitates, a sweater bunched in her hands.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I just…I wonder when I’ll be back here,” she says in a low voice.
“Shouldn’t be more than a day or two,” I tell her. I run my hand through her hair. “This is just a precaution.”
She faces me, and for a long moment, we lock gazes. I feel like I can see straight to the bottom of her soul through those pale gray-blue eyes. I can see her unasked questions. I can see how much she wants to trust me.
I can see her heart.
When she has her things together, I open her apartment door and glance up and down the hall. Serena told me there was an exit stairwell down the hall that we could take to avoid the elevators. She lives on the seventh floor, so it’s not going to be quick, but it’s better than getting caught in an elevator.
I grab her hand and pull her after me, and we rush down all seven floors. By the time we get to the bottom we’re both breathing hard. I give her a second to catch her breath, then tug her along through the lobby.
We make it outside and we’re almost to my car when the first shots ring out.
They’re coming from behind us, across the street. Three blond guys emerge from a black car, each holding guns—Uzis.
“Fuck!” I growl, and shove Serena to the ground behind a car parked at the curb as I draw my own gun. “Serena—your phone. The last number I dialed—call it. Tell the guy who answers I need him now.”
I don’t wait for an answer and pop up, then fire three shots in quick succession. I only have the bullets that are in the clip in my gun, and that’s it. I need Rhys yesterday.
I dip behind the car again, and Serena has the phone to her ear, the hand holding it shaking violently, but to my shock, her voice is steady.