Big Bad Lawyer (Misters of Manhattan Book 1)

by Lana Lachlan

  Stripping, he took up position behind her, spatula in hand. “You can get off now.”

  He smacked while she rubbed at her clit, buttocks clenching to the sting, hips jerking as she fingered her pussy. Reaching under her, he cupped a joggling breast with his free hand, manipulating the nipple between thumb and forefinger while pounding her ass. Ophelia groaned deep within her chest, her body stiffening as her climax closed in. She was almost on it when he delivered the hardest blow yet, slanting the edge across the top of her ass where the hurt would do her the most good. Ophelia dropped like a stone onto the bed, crying into her pillow as she came.

  He patted her bottom with the handle. “What shall I do with you now, counselor?”

  Quivering, she pushed up and aimed her ass at him. “Put your cock in me, Sir.”

  Oh Christ, what an invitation. Jack lined himself up. She had to be super tight from her orgasm, yet without protest she took his deep penetration. Tucking her into the saddle of his hips, he fucked her solidly, pushing her up the bed until her head reached the sofa back which, pleasingly, gave him more leverage. Throughout, Ophelia held her hips high, giving him all the depth he needed but as good as she felt and as easily as he could orgasm, he still pulled out.

  Ophelia peeped at him over her shoulder. “Are you going to spank me again, Sir?”

  Even pain sluts had their limits. “Not right now, baby.”

  Rolling her onto her back, he cushioned himself between her legs. On reentry, he paused half in to enjoy the familiar clamp before sliding all the way home. He found his rhythm. Slow and easy and comfortable. She’d been a good girl. He wanted this for her.

  Pushing up on one hand, he watched Ophelia’s hips in sync with his own. She moved like no woman he’d ever known. Fluid and instinctive and sensual. He loved this, loved making love to this girl when the discipline had ended and tension eased.

  “You’re amazing, babe.”

  Her fingers played over his chest as she undulated beneath him, her mouth in a smile. “I never knew sex could be like this, Jack.”

  He had to agree. The best he’d ever had. He hadn’t wanted Ophelia Tate to matter to him. His alpha drive, his career, his sexual play didn’t allow for anything close to a relationship. He’d never felt like this about any woman and he liked the feeling.

  Their movements barely quickened when they tumbled into orgasm—Ophelia on a small sigh, him on a satisfied grunt. While she went to find cream for her butt, Jack dressed, his thoughts turning to Raynott. In a surge of uneasiness, he moved to the window, staring through the net curtains at the street below. Both sides of the road were lined with parked cars, but a black SUV with dark windows caught his attention. Something seemed off.

  “My butt is so sore, Jack.”

  Ophelia stood in the bathroom doorway, wearing a fluffy green bathrobe and rubbing her rear end adorably.

  “Your apartment is being watched.”

  She scooted to the window, parting the curtains a fraction to peer at the street below. “Where?”

  “The black SUV. Pack some clothes because you’re coming to my place.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Jack promptly turned her and marched her to the bedroom. “No argument.”

  While she packed, he texted Sebastian with another warning although he wasn’t hopeful that Raynott would call his man off.

  Ophelia appeared five minutes later, buttoned up in her red coat and holding an overnighter. “How long will I have to stay at your place?”

  “For as long as necessary.”

  Her brow puckered. “Won’t Candice mind?”

  Jack had almost forgotten about the fake phone sex. “Oh right. Her. She won’t mind.”

  As he opened the door to usher her into the hallway, Ophelia hung back to gaze around the room as though she might never see it again. Jack’s heart went out to her. The poor kid’s life had been ripped apart. It made him more resolute than ever to keep her safely tucked under his wing.

  Chapter 7

  Ophelia woke to silence. She wasn’t used to a silent apartment. Her place had noisy neighbors who slammed doors or yelled at people to hold the elevator and then thundered along the hallway. She was also snuggled into Jack’s back. He was silent as well which meant the wolf was asleep.

  Lifting her head to look over his shoulder, she checked the nightstand clock, saw it was only 6:15 a.m. so returned to the warm back. The king size bed might be super soft, but it didn’t cushion her bruises any. The flimsy spatula had seemed a good choice for her spanking, but he’d made it almost as bad as the paddle. Her Dom’s violent delights came at a cost.

  The wolf rolled over, flopped a heavy arm over her waist and snorted. In the dim light, she studied him. He looked so peaceful, she was tempted to poke him in the ribs for the hell of it. Except a sleeping wolf might not take kindly to being poked. So she settled for running a fingertip along his firm jaw, following the closely cropped beard until there was no more beard to follow. She started on his chest hair.

  His eyes moved behind their lids. “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t sleep.”

  He pulled her in. “Try.”

  “It’s no use. I’m wide awake,” she complained, knowing she was pushing her luck because Jack had opened his eyes. She loved his blue eyes. She even loved them when they spelled trouble. Like now.

  “Do you need my help?”

  Ophelia scrambled out of the bed. “I’m going to fix breakfast.” Slipping on her flannelette pajamas with the blue butterflies, she did a twirl. “You like?”

  He chuckled. “You’re a bit late for those, sugar pants, but come here so I can take a look.”

  “No way.”

  She left him still chuckling.

  Ophelia had expected to find eggs and coffee and nothing much else, but the cupboards and refrigerator were surprisingly well stocked. She had the bacon cooked, the coffee made, the toast on and the eggs in the pan when he appeared wearing silk boxers under an open robe.

  Automatically, Ophelia took an appreciative eyeful of chest and thighs and everything between. “I was going to give you breakfast in bed.”

  He poured himself coffee. “I’d rather be up.”

  She set a heaped plate in front of him. “I hope you like them sunny side.”

  He tucked in while Ophelia sat down with juice, toast and jam. “No spanking today,” she dared to tell him.

  He punctured an egg yolk with his fork. “We’ll see. One thing. You’re not to leave the apartment.”

  Ophelia made a big show of rolling her eyes. “God, Jack. Surely I can go to the office? I need to talk to Bill.”

  He aimed the fork at her. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Rebellion stirred but she held her tongue. Sir wouldn’t need an excuse to get the paddle out. “If you say so.”

  “I do say so.” His eyes drifted over her pajamas. “What’s more, you’re to keep those on all day.”

  “That’s ridiculous…” she started to say, then clamped her mouth shut as his brow went low. “And when I come home tonight, you’re to be bathed, buttoned up in your PJs and have a freshly shaved pussy ready for me.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, surprised.

  “To make sure Sebastian doesn’t bother you again.”

  “He’ll have forgotten about me.”

  “Like hell he has.”

  She rounded her eyes innocently. “But, Mr. Slayer, you took me off the case, remember? What harm can I cause your client now?”

  Jack came around the island and pinged the elastic on her pajama bottoms. “Don’t play with me on this. You’re in enough trouble already.”

  “Why?”

  “For looking so damned sexy in your jammies.”

  She dipped her lashes. “Thank you, Sir, but I really can’t leave them on all day. I have to talk to Bill. It’s important.”

  Fingers bunched the elastic. “You can call him from here.”

  Her rebellion got
the better of her. “I’m not staying here when I should be at work.”

  When his chest expanded in a deep sigh, Ophelia knew she was on thin ice.

  “I’ll explain it to you slowly, Ms. Tate. Yesterday I had Sebastian under control but by now he knows about us. He probably thinks we’ve set him up, so he’ll be pissed enough to act.”

  Ophelia didn’t give in. “The law can deal with him.”

  Too late she realized she shouldn’t have challenged him. Jack had his head tipped back, his eyes holding that ‘don’t mess with me’ look she knew so well. “Let me lay some reality on you, counselor. Raynott doesn’t give a fuck about the law and you’re a naïve kid who needs to grow up.”

  Ophelia pulled away, hurt. “You’re not my daddy.”

  Before she could react, he had her high in his arms, down the hallway to the bedroom and tossed on the bed. Ophelia prayed it would only be a hand spanking but when he disappeared into his closet, she feared the worst. No way did she intend to apologize. She’d be logical and explain her point of view. She had every right to argue with him on the Raynott case. They were both lawyers so he would understand.

  He emerged from his closet. No paddle, no belt, no neckties but her relief was short lived because seconds later, Jack waved a huge butt plug in her face. “You’re right, I’m not your daddy. I’m your Sir.”

  “I’m not having that!”

  The plug inches from her face, she felt his hand slide inside her pajamas to prod a cheek. “Listen up, missy. This is your punishment for the day. When I get home tonight, I expect to find this in place. If it’s not and your butthole hasn’t expanded any, you’ll get the deluxe version. And you’ll really feel it.”

  She didn’t mind trying it out so much as having to wear it all day. “Do I have to?”

  “You do. I intend to do things with your pretty ass other than spank it.”

  Ophelia tried not to giggle but it slipped out. “Yes, Jack.”

  His lips curved in the suggestion of a smile. “And just so we’re clear, you’re grounded.”

  The softened expression gave her courage. “I’ll only go to the office for an hour, Jack, and then be right back.”

  She was almost off the bed when a big paw came out of nowhere to push her back down. Taking her face in his hand, he held it firmly while working her PJ bottoms off. “Are we clear or do I have to show you?”

  Ophelia heated to the physical domination. When it came to Jack, her mind and body were annoyingly out of sync. “But…”

  A pinch of her bare bruises and Ophelia squealed.

  “Dammit, you’ve put me in the mood now.”

  Yes, she was hot for him, but no, she wouldn’t allow him to call her a naïve kid. She tried to kick him away, but he grabbed her ankle and towed her into the middle of the bed to flip her over like a pancake. She felt the plug slide in, felt the burning stretch as he worked it deep.

  “I’ll safeword,” she threatened, trying to teach him a lesson for a change.

  To her shock, he started walking toward the door. “Have a good day, Ms. Tate, and remember what I said about not leaving.”

  Damn him for calling her bluff. And damn her body for wanting his.

  “Please stay.”

  He turned, his expression harder than she’d ever seen before. “I take safewords seriously, Ophelia, and using them to cock tease is a dangerous game. Don’t do it again.”

  She felt more chastened by his words than his hand. “I-I didn’t mean to tease. I’ve been naughty.”

  “You have and I’ve a good mind to get the paddle out.”

  Anything but the paddle. Drawing her knees up, she flopped them wide. Jack’s eyes didn’t drop. “No more games, little one.”

  She pressed her fingertip inside. “No games.”

  He looked, one eyebrow cocked. “You’ll give me a heart attack doing that.”

  “Good. You’re a mean man.”

  His eyes stayed on her most intimate place. “Then I’ll make sure I’m between your legs when it happens.”

  Ophelia smiled and spread herself wider to test him. She was so wet for him, had been since the moment he’d tipped her head back in the kitchen to assert his control. She licked her finger before starting again on her clit.

  “You like?”

  He nodded. “Keep going.”

  She went faster as Jack came closer to watch. His hand slid over the tent in his boxers, squeezing himself to make a wet spot on the silky material.

  Ophelia rubbed her nipples.

  “Christ,” Jack whispered, his hand moving faster over the silk, his eyes alternating between her breasts and pussy while making little hisses like a kettle coming to the boil. Ophelia felt so confident she had him under her spell, she pushed her hips high so he could see everything.

  “Fuck, you can test a man.”

  He shoved his boxers down and Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat as his huge cock bobbed free. Oh, that magnificent organ. So strong and proud and upstanding. She hoped he would put it inside her, but he began to pump it through his fist. The sexy sight had Ophelia frantically rubbing her clit because she really, really needed to come in the next five seconds or she’d go insane.

  “Not until I say so.”

  Somehow Ophelia managed to obey. To defy him now would result in the paddle and she didn’t want pain. She wanted him.

  He checked her. “Very nice.”

  With a brisk slap of his cock against his muscular belly, he lay on his back. “Give me your cunt and remember what I said about coming.”

  Ophelia trembled as she mounted his face. He dragged her into position, and she gasped as wet warmth claimed her sex. If she’d ever been inhibited about oral before, she was way past that now. Ophelia whimpered at the feel of his tongue parting her pussy lips to flutter over her clit. Ophelia moaned, rocking on Jack’s face, her palms flat to his abdomen to keep herself steady. Jack licked and sucked at her pussy, his hands spreading her buttocks open to keep her wide for him. Ophelia whimpered. Even the plug had become part of the delicious ride.

  One hand left her to grab his cock. She needed to help him but how could she do anything useful when Jack’s tongue had squiggled inside and she could feel the tip of his nose rubbing her clit. Ophelia tried desperately to stem the impending rush of climax. Oh God, it would happen. She needed permission. Too late. Ophelia sat straight up on his face and shouted her apology.

  Ophelia felt him slurping around her thighs. “There’s a fucking flood down here, you over-sexed, disobedient girl.”

  Fully ashamed, she went to dismount but he held her down. “No fucking way.”

  “Please, sir, no punishment… Oh God.”

  Ophelia moaned as his tongue began making wet trails again. She felt his hand press on her back, urging her forward. Relieved to have avoided punishment, Ophelia went down to take the thick swell of his penis into her mouth. His growl of approval started a scrumptious vibration in her overheated sex, gently at first, then increasing to an insistent ache. She would come again very soon, but not before she’d returned the favor.

  Running her tongue up and down the shaft, she hummed her own tune. “I love your cock, Jack.”

  She heard him chuckle, but it turned to a wheeze when she took him in both hands and put all her newfound skill to work—hands scudding up and down the thick wet pillar, tongue all over the head. She ought to finish him first but when he began zinging her clit, Ophelia lost it, arching into climax, forgetting everything but the spirals of heat coursing along every nerve she possessed. Quivering her way down, she heard Jack swear, looked down to see that she had him so tight in her hands the head had gone purple. She leaned down to suck but too late, his cum shot out in thick jets all over her fingers. There was so much of it that it dripped onto his belly and into his thatch.

  Jack groaned into her sex. “Christ, you’ve squeezed me dry.”

  Ophelia was too busy cleaning him with her tongue to answer. Sliding off him, she put herself in
his arms.

  “I’ve never done one of those before.”

  He ruffled her hair. “No kidding.”

  With Sir mellowed out, she could give it one last try. “You could escort me to the office?”

  He pushed up on an elbow to look down at her with unexpectedly warm eyes. “I want you safe, Ophelia.”

  Overcome by his show of affection she buried her face in his chest, not wanting Jack to see how she cared for him. She craved his dominance but revealing anything more could ruin the moment.

  His hand went to her hair. “If you’re worried about Raynott, don’t be.”

  Ophelia burrowed further into his chest. He didn’t understand but it was probably for the best. She changed the subject. “Do I really have to wear this plug all day?”

  “You do.”

  “And if I don’t, what will happen?”

  A tap on her backside answered that question. What was it about this man that made her crazy for his authority? Anyway, with Jack in full dominance mode, she had no choice but to tolerate his sex toy or pay the price.

  “I’m going to soak in the tub.”

  He wiggled the plug. “When you take it out, just make sure it goes back in or it’ll be the deluxe.”

  Wisely, Ophelia didn’t argue. Grabbing skinny jeans and tee, she stalked off to the bathroom and while the tub filled, yanked the plug out of her butt and set it by the basin. Awful thing.

  “I’ve had a call from Bill.”

  Jack filled the doorway, dressed.

  Ophelia turned off the tub faucet. “Why on earth does he keep calling you?”

  “It’s about your witness.”

  The edge in Jack’s voice dried her throat. “What’s happened?”

  “Brock Shaw was beaten up at the back of his apartment building. Made to look like a mugging. He’s in intensive care.”

  Ophelia felt the room swirl. “Sebastian Raynott.”

  Jack stared at her frozen-eyed. “Very likely.”

  Fighting to stay upright, she managed a step toward the door. “I’ll go to the hospital.”