Hero Unmasked: 3 (Heroes of Saturn)

by Anna Alexander

  Battery-operated lanterns bathed the wood-paneled walls in a soft white-yellow light. She had wanted the romantic glow of lit candles but decided against it for safety reasons. The Andersons were kind enough to lend her the cabin on short notice and she didn’t want to repay them by having the place burn down if the situation got out of control.

  Not that she was planning on starting an altercation with Cam, but the reason she chose a neutral location was in the event she needed a quick getaway. Instinct warned her that once she confronted Cam about the truth, only dynamite would blast him out of her house. The man was freakishly persuasive when it came to getting what he wanted. This way she could lock the door before he ever breached inside.

  The gentle knock on the door might as well have been the pounding of a battering ram by the way she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Easy. Easy.” She took another glance in the mirror and drew a calming breath. Determination smoothed her brow as she prepared for an Oscar-worthy performance.

  She crossed the two steps from the miniscule bathroom to the front door and pressed her ear to the wood. “Who is it?”

  “Cam. And thank you for asking first.”

  She opened the door and took in the sight of the Chameleon standing in the doorway in all his masked glory. As always, the only parts of his face that were visible were his eyes and his nose and mouth, but the sexy tilt of his lips and the wicked promise in the brown gaze unmistakably belonged to Dhavin.

  Yep, she was the biggest idiot on the planet.

  How did she not recognize him at first sight? Had she been brain dead all this time? What about the rest of the town? No way could she be the only one who saw what was beyond the rippling pecs, although if she was, she’d feel slightly better about being duped. Very slightly.

  With the truth now literally staring her in the face, any remorse she harbored over what she was about to do disappeared as quickly as a grain of sugar in a rainstorm.

  “Come in.” She stepped back to allow him inside. “I thought a change of scenery might be nice. It’s not much, but I think it’s cozy.”

  Cam barely glanced at the extra-large futon made up in satin sheets or the butcher block table decorated with fine china. His hot gaze drifted over her from her neat ponytail down to her freshly polished toes. Under the black lace that covered her breasts, her nipples hardened, tenting the white cotton shirt she secured under her bust with one button.

  “Wow. What gods did I please to be gifted with you?” He was on her in a blink, his big hands cupping her buttocks under the hem of her shirt and lifting her against his erection.

  For half a second she basked in the heat of his kiss, yielding to the strength in his arms before her ego kicked her in the ass.

  She pulled back with a gasp. “So, I guess you like my outfit.”

  “I never thought a man’s shirt could look so sinful, or you so beautiful. There’s a purpose I sense in you tonight. A confidence I find intoxicating.” He leaned down for another kiss.

  “Not so fast. I have lots planned for us tonight. Come.” She untangled from his embrace and gestured for him to take a seat at the table. “I made you a treat.”

  “You are my treat.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her across his lap.

  She slapped at his hands but straddled his legs, making sure to press the hot pad of her pussy against his cock. Good Lord, she shivered, he was hard already. “You’re such a horndog. I worked really hard to make this especially for you. It’s a super-secret family recipe that has been passed down for generations. I’ve been told that if a man eats one slice, he can stay hard all night long.”

  His laughter rumbled in his chest. “And this is a family recipe?”

  “They had to do something to stay warm during the cold Highland nights.”

  “Konkattie, I can stay hard just by looking at you.”

  Flattery would have gotten him everywhere the day before, but now she knew the score and refused to melt under his sizzling charm. She had a plan and she’d stick to it if it killed her.

  “Ta-da.” She lifted the top of the cake carrier with a flourish, revealing a creamy, dreamy chocolate tart. “Here, let me feed you.”

  She scooped up a healthy spoonful and held it to his lips with a sweet smile that widened when he eagerly accepted the treat.

  He chewed once, twice, then his eyes widened with panic. She swore he was going to spit it out, but he swallowed with a loud gulp. His lips trembled into a weak grin.

  “That, uh, that is a taste I’ve never experienced.” He spotted the glass of merlot on the table and snatched it up, downing the entire contents. “What is in that, exactly?”

  “I told you, it’s a secret. Here, have some more. Delicious, huh?” She shoved another spoonful in his mouth and bit her lip to hold back her laughter as he gagged. “Oh, all right, I guess I can trust you with a little part of the recipe.” She leaned close to whisper, “The secret ingredient is black licorice.”

  “Ah.” He coughed into his fist. “That explains that intriguing flavor.”

  Eat it up, lover-mine. She swirled the spoon into the thick concoction and prepared for another assault.

  He caught her wrist and deftly removed the weapon from her grip before she was able to force another large spoonful into his mouth. “You know what this recipe can use, is more salt.”

  He smeared the dollop of cream across the upper curve of her breast then bent to lick the area clean. Man, that was a smooth move, she’d give him that.

  Revenge and desire engaged in a knock-down-drag-out fight in her heart with each flick of his talented tongue. After all was said and done, she still wanted, no craved, his touch and affection. That hadn’t changed since she learned the truth.

  Syrup filled her veins and pooled in her loins in a delicious burn. Temptation demanded she grind against his erection, take her orgasm and leave him hanging on the edge, but the risk of detouring from the plan was too great to feed the need for physical satisfaction.

  Deep down in her soul, she wanted to believe there had been something real about their relationship, at least something other than the way he made her body electric, but the romantic in her was going to have to go without. This night was about revenge, not what might have been. To see her plan to the end, she was going to have to shut down the part of her that held out hope, and she’d better do it quickly before everything got shot to hell.

  “Cam.” She dug her fingers into the cowl and grasped at the hair beneath to pull his head up. “Cam, wait. I—I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  “I’m listening.” The tip of his tongue danced along her collarbone. He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, allowing his fingers access to the clasp of her bra.

  “No. Really. I’ve been thinking a lot lately and I have to tell you something before we continue.” Her breath stuttered as he cupped her breasts over the lace and tugged firmly on her nipples. No, no, no. He was not going to distract her. “Cam, I’ve been lying to you.”

  He stilled with his lips pressed against her shoulder, and she froze along with him. Tension snapped between them like an invisible net for a long minute before he raised his head to look at her with a wary eye. “What do you mean?”

  This is it. Don’t break character. “I’ve lead you to believe something about me that wasn’t true, because I was afraid of what you’d say. But I like you, Cam. Really, really like you, and I don’t want there to be any more lies between us.”

  His lips tightened and he nodded for her to continue.

  A giggle tickled her lips with what she was about to say, but she pressed on. “I know the sex between us has been on the stale side and ho-hum.”

  “Excuse me?”

  If only she had a camera ready to capture the look on his face. Priceless. “Oh, I don’t entirely blame you, Cam, I mean, you’ve been trying so hard to make it spicy and exciting, and believe me, I’ve loved every minute of it. But the truth is, I want more.”


  “More?” he asked, clearly baffled. What must he be thinking?

  “I’ve led you to believe that I’m shy when it comes to sex. But, actually, I’ve been hurt in the past by men who have felt threatened by my intense sex drive. Those experiences have made me gun-shy on showing my true self. I want more with you, but I’m afraid of what you might think when you find out…” She closed her eyes and with a dramatic sigh exclaimed, “When you find out I’m a slut.”

  He tilted his head. “I do not know this word.”

  Dear God, please let her say this with a straight face. “A slut is a person who loves sex. A lot. My pussy is constantly wet and aching, desperate to be filled, and I think dirty, nasty thoughts all the time.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh. She pressed her breasts into his chest and leaned over to whisper into the fabric that covered his ear. “The things I dream about doing to your cock, hmm, scandalous. I want to rub it and suck it deep into my mouth. I want you to slam it into me hard and rough. And your cum. God, I want to bathe in your cum.”

  Never before had she spoken such profanity, but maybe she should have done it more if she received this type of reaction. His hips rolled, grinding his cock that had swelled so hard and hot, there may as well have been nothing between them from the way she felt every ridge pressed against the pad of her pussy. His skin was on fire, burning her palms, and his breath billowed over her chest in hot puffs. Who knew a few choice words could skyrocket him to the edge so quickly?

  Buoyed by his reaction, she played up her trampy side, enjoying the illicitness of her words as much as he. “I want to share my fantasies with you. If my needs are something you can’t handle, tell me now and it ends here.”

  “No! Tell me. I want to hear them. I want you, Fiona. Every wicked bit of you.”

  “Well…” She slowly swiped her tongue along her bottom lip. Her cunt wept more cream as his eyes traced the movement. This was going to be so good. “I want to tie you up. I want you at my complete mercy and to do dirty things to you. But I know that will never happen.” She finished with a pout.

  “Why not?” he panted. Dismay colored his whine and threatened to make her break character.

  “You have super strength. Even if you let me, you can break out of your bonds whenever you wish. That defeats the purpose of having you at my mercy.”

  “I won’t. I promise, I won’t,” he said with the eagerness of a child tempted with a new toy. “Tie me up.”

  She fluttered her lashes with mock astonishment. “What? Surely you don’t mean that. What type of man wants to be dominated by me?”

  “This one.”

  “But you’ll break away the moment you don’t like what I’m doing.”

  “I won’t. I promise,” he begged so sweetly. “Please, Fiona. I’m all yours.”

  “Really?”

  “By the Gods, woman. Yes!”

  Suck-ah.

  Never before had it been so difficult to hold back a smile and victorious fist pump as he folded like a cheap napkin at an all-you-can-eat barbeque.

  “I’m trusting you to keep your word, but you’ve made me so happy. Come stand by the bed.” She pulled him to his feet and positioned him by the futon, praying the simple wood structure maintained its integrity, for it was about to receive the ultimate workout. “From now on you have to do everything I say. Everything. Understand?”

  He nodded and licked his lips as if he were too excited to speak.

  “Good. I’m going to undress you. Don’t lift a finger.”

  She took her sweet time removing his clothes. The tunic was surprisingly heavy when she made him bend down enough for her to lift it over his head. Simply wearing the garment must be an exercise of its own. With each article removed, she brushed her fingertips over his skin, smiling as the muscles twitched with her touch. Standing behind him, she slipped her fingers up his spine and under the cowl. He tensed under her hand and she waited for him to tell her to stop. When he didn’t say anything, she smoothed her hands along his shoulders and down his arms. Goading him into revealing his identity now was not part of the plan.

  “Lie down,” she instructed and reached for the strap trailing from under the mattress.

  “Why do I have a feeling the straps are a new addition?” he teased, but complied with her wishes.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d agree or not. If anything, I was hoping you might want to tie me up, but this is much better.”

  The leather straps were notched like a belt, which she was banking on to restrain him better than those with a Velcro closure. After each wrist was secured, she stepped back to admire the buffet of manliness spread out before her.

  In the lantern light his bronze skin looked burnished, like every inch had been lovingly polished to perfection. He was lean in the waist and thick everywhere else a man should be. His muscles flexed, but not with the intent to impress, but with excitement and the restraint to allow her to do her worst.

  Holy cow. This was the best idea ever in the history of ideas. Tremors ran down her limbs and her brain worked at a feverish pace, trying to decide where to begin in his sensual torture. Between her thighs, her panties, soaked beyond reason, chaffed her skin.

  She began by laying her palm flat on his chest. On either side of her hand his two hearts pounded a thunderous beat and his legs jerked impatiently.

  “Fiona, you’re killing me.”

  “That’s Mistress Fiona.” She raked her nails to his navel and dipped her thumb in the well. “Don’t make me punish you by leaving you with nothing but air to blanket you.”

  His belly shook with his laughter. “My apologies, Mistress Fiona.”

  “I think I need to occupy your mouth.” She retrieved the pie and set the pan on the floor by the bed. Swiping two fingers into the cream, she painted his lips until they were covered.

  She bent down and began lapping at the sticky substance as if she were starring in a raunchy comedy movie, slobbering with more enthusiasm than finesse. As she feasted, she ground her lace-covered crotch against his inflamed erection, working her hips to imprint the texture of the fabric onto his flesh. She thought he would be put off or shocked by her behavior, but Dhavin surprised her by engaging his tongue with hers in play and biting at her lips.

  A case of the giggles threatened to crack her tough-girl façade, so she pulled away and slipped her bra from her shoulders. The hard points of her nipples tingled as she dipped them in cream and placed one into his waiting mouth.

  Her eyes crossed as he suckled hard, drawing the entire areola between his teeth, which made her smirk. Now the taste of black licorice didn’t bother him so much, huh? If he loved it on her breasts, how about on her pussy? Didn’t he say the recipe needed more salt?

  The useless scrap of her panties hit the floor and the cool pie filling she spread on the smooth lips of her drenched sex made goose bumps ripple down her arms. Her legs shook as she climbed back onto the bed and straddled his face, facing his feet and the bobbing erection that pulsed with each heartbeat. Before she had a chance to settle into positions, Dhavin lifted his head and dove into her open cunt. The sloppy sounds of his mouth against her wet hole had her fingers curling, her nails digging into his abdomen for purchase.

  A steady stream of pre-cum leaked from the flared head of his cock and his hips bucked, fucking the air. Fiona gripped the base and squeezed hard, drawing a vibrating groan from his chest that tickled her clit.

  “You don’t get to come yet. This is for me. Lick me clean. Yeah, that’s it. Fuck me with your tongue,” she shouted, getting into the spirit of her character.

  Hell, who was she kidding? Even though she was mortified at the smut spilling from her lips, acting like a flaming slut was liberating on so many levels. The filthier she spoke, the harder and deeper Dhavin ate her pussy. He was a wild beast devouring his prey and reveling in the feast, his fervor spurring her own.

  “I’m gonna come on your face. Make me. Make me come, bitch.” She slapped his flank then froze with
shock.

  Oops. Perhaps she was taking things a wee bit too far. Her thighs tensed, ready to jump off the bed before he broke free of his bindings, for there was no way he would accept such treatment.

  Dhavin proved her wrong as he groaned into her cunt and pressed the hard nub of her clit against the roof of his mouth, shoving her into the whirlpool of an orgasm that rippled up from her core, bathing her in a wave of heat that felt as if she were being dipped in hot wax. Her screams of release echoed in the tiny cabin until they tapered off into warbling moans.

  Her joints melted and she collapsed onto his heaving chest. The drowsiness fogging her mind was so delectable, she wanted to drown in its sweetness. What was her name? Where was she? Who cared, she felt absolutely fantastic.

  Consciousness pushed through the thick layer of satisfaction, forcing her to open her eyes. The giant red cock weeping cum an inch from her nose brought her back to wakefulness. Right. Revenge. She wasn’t done with him yet.

  Well, maybe a small reprieve was in order. Her arms were beyond noodle-like, lifting her just high enough to drag her breasts across his lap as she slipped off the bed and landed on the floor like a sack of flour.

  “Whoa.” She climbed to her knees. “Give me a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Her lungs slowly returned to normal as she collected the supplies from underneath the bed. She sucked in a few more breaths to relax her trembling muscles. Phase two of her plan required steady hands or else the night would go to hell.

  “Lift your hips,” she instructed and laid a towel onto the mattress under his butt.

  Once he lowered back down, she lifted a pair of eight-inch-long metal scissors, opening and closing them with a wicked snip-snip sound.

  For the first time that evening his eyes narrowed with genuine concern. He tugged at the restraints on his wrists and his cock softened. He didn’t lose his erection by any stretch of the imagination, but his cock lay against his belly instead of saluting up to the sky.