by Pam Godwin
He gripped her wrist, dislodging her fingers from his leaking dick. But he didn’t let go. Shifting around, he spotted a nearby couch and dragged her there.
“You’re choosing her?” Vera boiled, her voice an octave above horrified.
“Yes.”
And she chose me.
Why? He had no idea. Maybe it was to one-up Vera. Or maybe she planned on castrating him with her teeth.
With a furious pivot of heels, Vera spun toward the door.
“You will watch.” Marco caught her hand and pulled her into a chair.
Luke lowered onto the couch and pointed at the cushion beside him. “Kneel.”
Gina looked shell-shocked, uncertain, as if she was only now coming to terms with her decision. But she owned it profoundly, exquisitely, with each knee she set on the couch.
“You should know…” Marco reclined in the chair beside Vera, sitting directly across from him. “When she bites your dick, I’m not calling the doctor.”
“Noted.” He deepened his sprawl on the couch, stretching out his arms and getting comfortable. Then he let his head fall back like a man in control of his universe. “Pull me out.”
Her eyes flashed. “Are you going to give me step-by-step instructions?”
“Do I need to?”
“Shut the fuck up, and you’ll find out.”
That’s my girl.
“She’s going to bite the dick!” Marco roared with laughter and clapped his hands.
Vera scowled, and across the room, Alejandro remained in his chair with a cantina girl perched on his lap.
Tomas’ steady gaze stayed with Luke. A silent, bolstering presence. No one knew him like those among his kindred. United in strife, he and Tomas had been forced to perform sexual acts for an audience during their time in captivity. This was nothing new.
But it felt new as Gina unzipped his fly and wrestled his pants to his thighs. It felt so goddamn significant he was shaking. Not noticeably, but she felt it. With her hand on his bare hip and his cock jutting toward her mouth, she raised her eyes to his.
Compassion. It glowed in her gaze and socked him straight in the chest. This woman… She was the living reality of the only dream he’d ever dared to want for himself, the most precious, indestructible, viciously beautiful creature in and out of any fantasy.
She was an impossible possibility in the flesh.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He wanted to give her so much more than trite words. But not here. With the cartel watching, he could only be John Smith. “Suck me.”
“Don’t coach me, asshat.”
“Don’t test my patience, sugar.”
A glimmer lit her eyes. Her jaw opened slightly. Slowly, her head lowered, and he watched, breathless and overtaken, as this fierce woman lay her claim on his cock.
Soft lips. Hot tongue. Oh, God. Oh, sweet holy fuck. She sucked him straight to the back of her throat.
His toes curled, and his hips shot off the couch, thrusting, plunging, digging deep, so fucking deep before he caught himself and pulled back.
Down boy.
He wasn’t going to last. No way in hell. She felt too fucking unreal.
“Unbelievable.” A string of Spanish spewed past Marco’s lips.
That was the last distraction Luke registered before everything faded. The room, their audience, nothing existed but the overwhelming stimulation of her mouth moving on his cock.
Her tongue traced veins and ridges. Her hands explored, caressing his abdomen, hips, thighs. By the time she reached his balls, he was panting, grunting, fighting the demands of an impending release.
Christ, he was going to come. Or black out. Fuck, he would die from the pure agony of it.
Not yet. Holy fucking hell, not yet.
He didn’t want it to end. But her mouth was relentless, sucking the sensitive glans beneath his head, tasting the endless flow of pre-come, swallowing him deeply, and coaxing him to shoot his load.
With throaty groans, he couldn’t stop the movement of his hips. His hands flew to her head, and he crushed her face to his groin, rocking, stabbing, cutting her air. He had to have her, kiss her, fuck her, and touch her everywhere. God almighty, he’d never needed anything or anyone like he needed this. Her.
Mindlessly, he fucked her throat, and she took every inch, gripping his thighs, gagging, choking, and sucking even harder.
Let her breathe, idiot.
Releasing her, he reached beneath her dress, between her legs. His fingers found her panties, ripped them away, and sought her wet center. Soaking. So silky and warm. Her arousal gushed over his knuckles, and her pussy sucked his probing touch into its hot, welcoming recesses.
She writhed, gyrating her hips and moaning around his cock. He thrust a finger into her again, added two, three, rimming her opening and massaging the sensitive muscle inside. She cried out, grinding against his hand, her breaths faltering, eyes squeezing shut as she rode the pleasure like a hellion.
Dragging her tongue along his length, she flicked and teased without mercy. His head spun at the unpredictable rhythm, his body hard, every muscle flexed, his entire world caught in her spell.
Over and over, she sucked the tip into the back of her throat, closing her lips around him, sealing him in delicious warmth. It took every ounce of concentration to remember the fingers he still held inside her. What a distracting little succubus.
Two could play at this game.
He moved his hand between her legs, seeking her clit with his thumb, rolling it, adding pressure until she cried out and pulled her mouth off his cock.
“Oh, you’re in trouble now.” She flashed her teeth, gripped his hip and thigh, and sucked him hard and deep into her throat.
His vision blurred. The world spun, and he shut his eyes against the onslaught.
“Jesus. Goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He flung out his free hand and gripped the back of the couch, desperately anchoring himself in some semblance of control.
She was ready to come, dripping all over his fingers. If he didn’t send her over now, she would win. She’d milk him for all he was worth before he had a chance to have her here, on the couch, wild and rabid and absolute.
Circling his thumb around her clit, he fingered her sheath with hard strokes, harder, until he thought she would tumble into his lap. Trembling on the cusp of ecstasy, she fought it valiantly. And lost.
The hot clasp of her body squeezed, constricting his fingers through violent spasms. She tore her mouth off his dick and screamed, her head tilting back and mouth wide in stunned oblivion.
Her release shuddered through her, and her hoarse cries dissolved into moans. As she gulped for air, he yanked a condom from his pocket and rolled it on.
Glazed eyes found his, satisfied but not sated. His heart pounded. The tumultuous sounds of their breaths caught fire, and they launched at the same time.
Chests colliding, arms grappling, they came together in a tangle of limbs and sexual heat. There was no pause. No hesitation. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Their lips met in a frenzy, and their bodies took over.
She rose above him. He adjusted the angle, and Ahhh, fuuuuck! He sank into her hot, drenching glory. Tight and swollen, she urged him deeper, wriggling, slamming down her hips, and hardening him beyond human endurance.
Sweaty and breathless, he started moving, thrusting, and fucking her mouth with his tongue. She grabbed his necktie, lifted along his length, and lowered, dipping him inside her oh-so-slowly.
He couldn’t take it. With his hands on her waist, he took the reins. Then he took her fully, setting the tempo, widening her thighs, and pumping into heaven, his body a piston of pent-up urgency and hunger.
She clawed at his neck, his shoulders, holding onto him as if wrestling for every inch of closeness. Their lips smashed and bruised, teeth clashing, tongues hitting and sliding, too frantic and reckless to execute a real kiss.
But it was more than real. It was what every kiss should be. Untrained. Unhi
nged. Just pure raw fire.
He drove his hips harder, hitting the spot inside her that would send her into rapture. She clenched her thighs around him, pulling herself closer, moaning helpless sounds of want.
Yeah, she was close, her gasps becoming shallower, her cunt growing slicker. He fucked her steadily, completely, knowing no man—not even the two in the room—had ever possessed her the way he owned her now. In this, she was his alone.
At the edge of his awareness, he heard arguing. A glass crashed. A door slammed, taking Vera’s angry voice with it.
Reality crept in.
He felt things for this woman, feelings too new to analyze. Maybe he was crazy, but it wasn’t one-sided. She felt something, too.
By no means could the cartel get a whiff of it. Not until he had a plan. As much as Luke wanted to carry Gina out in tender embrace, he couldn’t. The cartel needed to believe what they witnessed tonight was just a moment. Just sex. Nothing more. And he needed her cooperation to pull it off.
She slipped her hands along his arms, holding tight as he trailed his lips across her cheek, into her hair, peppering slow feverish kisses.
At her ear, he tasted her sweet skin and whispered, “You hate me. The instant you come, show them exactly how much. Then leave. Go to my room. Tomas will make sure you arrive safely.”
She leaned back and searched his eyes. Their hips came together, grinding in a fusion of conflict and intimacy. He watched her closely, looking for a sign that she understood.
But she was already lost, drowning in the grip of pleasure. Jesus fuck, she was coming, straining against his hold, her body shaking, her voice whispering in Spanish over and over.
The splendor of her surrender was his undoing. He increased his strokes, the intensity beyond anything he’d ever experienced as he clutched her neck and roared, releasing himself in hard, violent jets. He came and came on the verge of passing out.
Until a hand crashed across his face, shooting blinding pain through his jaw.
He blinked, panting, and she punched him again.
“I hate you.” She shoved off his cock, jumped from his lap, and straightened her dress in a raging fit. “What do you think just happened? That I wanted it? Fuck no! That was coercion. Rape. You sick, unholy bastard!”
“That’s what they all say.” He tossed her a grin and rubbed his jaw. “Try not to come so hard next time.”
A livid flush spread up her neck. She flexed her hands, pivoted, and raced out of the room.
He didn’t have to signal Tomas. His friend was already moving, hot on her heels.
She did it. Exactly what he’d told her, she pulled it off. Pride filled his chest. Whether she liked it or not, she was on his team now.
She was his.
Vera, Alejandro, and all the girls had vacated the room, leaving him alone with the cartel capo.
Nervousness set in, but he didn’t let it show.
“Women.” With a sigh, he removed the condom and stashed it, along with her discarded panties, in his pocket. Then he straightened his clothes and zipped up.
“You can’t live with them, so just fuck them and kill them. Si?” With a chuckle, Marco stood and set a drink in Luke’s hand. “Congratulations, my friend. Now tell me how you did it.”
She sat in John’s bathtub, hugging her knees to her chest as unanswered questions pounded in her head.
When the water cooled, she let it out and refilled it again. With each passing minute, her hands turned pruney, her heart numb.
After leaving Alejandro’s quarters an hour ago, she’d headed straight here. Not because John had commanded it. But because she needed to talk to him, to find out what was real and what was an act.
He’d put his hands and mouth all over that hateful bitch. Was he with her now? Kissing her? Thrusting between her legs?
Gah! She yanked at her hair. Why did she care who he was with?
More importantly, why had she willingly swallowed his cock and fucked his damn brains out? What made him so different than the others?
I give her things.
Orgasms.
Yeah, he doled those out like party favors.
If it was only that, she could work with it. She’d already accepted her attraction and given into the lust. How could she not? The sex was…
Her thighs squeezed together. Her nipples hardened, and a fluttery sensation lit up her belly.
Yeah, he knew how to fuck. And kiss. And touch all the right places. He was turning her into an addict.
Point for him.
It would be no hardship to spend the rest of the week in bed with him. As dangerous as he was, he’d given her more blissful moments in twenty-four hours than she’d experienced in the past three years.
But this wasn’t just sex. There was a rare, deep-reaching, unstoppable force blooming between them. A magnetism that jacked up her blood pressure and consumed her mind. A supernatural connection that she’d never shared with any other person.
She desperately wanted to believe in that connection, trust it, and fight for it. Damn her, but she felt outrageously possessive of it. The thought of another woman touching him sent her into a homicidal rage.
That was why she’d gone down on him after dinner. Watching anyone else do it would’ve gutted her. Which was maddening. She didn’t even know him.
What was his name? Where did he grow up? How did he earn a living? What were his crimes?
What did he want with her?
She secretly harbored wishes about him. Recklessly whimsical hopes. The kind that only came true in fairy tales. Because there were no white knights in Casa de La Rocha. He couldn’t rescue her. Not even if he tried.
Sinking into the water, she let her face float just above the surface and stared at the hole in the ceiling.
This morning, he’d said La Rocha hadn’t replaced the camera because he made them believe he was discussing confidential business details in here with Tomas and threatened to take down the cartel if they invaded his privacy.
He would be gone soon anyway. After they squeezed all the money they could get out of him, he would leave.
What would happen to her? Would they keep her alive? Continue to use her as bait? Or put her in another fight, one she didn’t have a chance at winning?
She needed to get out of this bathtub.
Rising to her knees, her gaze landed on the doorway, and her breath abandoned her.
John stood on the threshold, his tie hanging loose around his neck. Red hair tousled from raking fingers, suit jacket dangling from a finger, he looked tired and pensive.
She rested her hands on the edge of the tub, holding his gaze. With his chin dipped downward, he watched her from beneath dark brows. Just watching. Breathing. After too many inhales and exhales, he stepped in and shut the door.
“My parents were drug addicts. When they were sober, they beat me. When they weren’t…” He toed off his shoes and removed the tie. “They forgot they had bills and…a child.”
She closed her eyes, instantly regretting the mean things she’d said about his father leaving bruises. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You were right about that.” He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it. “But you were wrong about me bullying kids in school.” His lips quirked. “I only bully women who know how to bully right back.”
A smile tickled her lips and faded quickly. “What happened? With your parents?”
“Dead. Overdosed.” He ambled to the tub and stripped the rest of his clothes. “I ran away before that happened. Finished my last year of high school while living on the streets.”
“How did you do it?” She touched her chin to her shoulder, meeting his eyes. “I mean, you’re clearly successful and wealthy. How?”
“A single, horrifying, unfortunate event.” He stepped in, sliding into the water behind her.
She stared at his legs, so hard and powerful as they wedged in around her, dwarfing her body. “An unfortunate event led to…a fortune?”
> “A fortune in things that matter.” His arms glided around her waist, pulling her back to his chest. “I’ll tell you about it some other time.”
“You’re leaving in a few days.”
“Not without you.”
She melted. Every muscle, sinew, and bone dissolved before she could stifle the reaction. No matter what he promised, she couldn’t leave. Was he an idiot? Or maybe he thought she was.
Pushing herself upright, she refused to let any man, including this one, make her feel weak and manipulated.
He held onto her hips, and she yanked at his hands. When he finally released her, she spun away, splashing water over the edge.
The tub wasn’t big enough for the two of them, but she wasn’t leaving it until she had answers.
“Where have you been for the past hour?” She inched back against the opposite end, facing him.
“With Marco. Instructing him on how to bring a woman to orgasm.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. “Why?”
“He wanted to know my technique.” He pulled her feet onto his lap beneath the water and stroked a hand along her ankle. “Giving him a few pointers seemed less painful than pissing him off.”
“Did you…?” Her face flamed. She really didn’t want to ask this, but she needed to know. “Did you demonstrate on someone?”
“No.” His voice lacked insistence or any emotion. He didn’t seem to care if she believed him or not.
“Marco doesn’t do things without causing discomfort or pain to someone else. He was probably fucking with you.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“And you associate with him. What does that say about you?” She yanked her legs away from his touch.
“Why are we discussing him when there’s something else weighing heavier on your mind? You’re not one to hold back, Gina. Let’s hear it.”
“All right. Why am I here when you were all over her tonight?”
“If I wanted Vera in my bed, she would be here right now.” He studied her carefully, his arms draped over the back of the tub, his presence overbearing, unnervingly still. After a long, watchful moment, he released a breath. “I need something from her.”
“The location of the compound.” Her pulse increased. “You think you can fuck it out of her.”
