Steele

by Stacy Gail

  “To… to fuck.” She was both amazed and proud she was able to come up with even that much. “To fuck.”

  A gravelly purr of masculine approval sounded before he nuzzled his mouth at the place where shoulder and neck connect. “That’s right. The instant you think of this night, even years from now, I want to make it so good for you that you’ll instantly be so horny that all you’ll want to do is fuck, my sweet, dirty-talking Pet. Doesn’t that sound good?”

  She tried to tell him it sounded like freaking heaven on earth.

  A shuddery moan was all she managed.

  “But I’m not winding you up like this to be in the mood for just any kind of fucking. Nuh-uh, baby. I’m on a mission. I genuinely want to make you insane by doing this—” He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her gasp. “And this.” He did the same down below, causing her body to jolt even as a ragged half-scream of agonized bliss was torn from her. “But… I’m not going to let you get off.”

  Wait, what?

  “You’re not going to get any satisfaction from my hands or my cock tonight.”

  His statement was a jagged knife that cut through the haze shrouding her mind. “W-what?”

  “This born-to-bang body of yours is so damn good at coming, did you know that? You get off so easily, it’s unbelievable. Just a little teasing at the bowling alley and suddenly you were fucking my hand like your life depended on it, not giving a shit if the whole world knew what was happening. You just grabbed for what you wanted and you went to town, no hesitation. It was a beautiful thing to see. That’s when I knew you were like me—there isn’t much you won’t do in this world as long as you can get off. You fucking love to come. And that’s why I know being denied satisfaction tonight is going to be torture for you. But I have to do it. It’s for your own good.”

  How could anything like that be good? “Steele… please don’t.”

  “There’s only one way you’re getting an orgasm tonight, Pet—with my mouth. And I’ll only do it if you ask me for it. You need to make peace with the fact that you really do want my mouth on this sweet little nub, sucking on it like it’s my own personal piece of candy. Can you imagine what that’s going to feel like?”

  Oh.

  “I bet you can almost feel it, if you think about it hard enough. My tongue licking you. Teasing you.”

  Oh.

  “My lips closing in on it, sucking you into my mouth, sucking the blood close to the surface to make it even more sensitive before flicking my tongue over it until you scream.”

  Oh!

  “You’re.” Shivers of feverish pleasure rippled through her as his touch and his words tormented her in the best possible way. “Killing.” Her breath quickened, along with his pace. “Me.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way. You’re so close to it now, you can almost taste it.” That crooning voice and the tongue that teased her ear were all part of the overall seduction of her senses, and the vicious tightening of her muscles made her moan helplessly. “Yeah. So close. You’re right on the edge. Close enough…to stop.”

  No!

  A broken cry ripped from her as his actions followed his words. Her nervous system, so alight and expectant, went into a kind icy shock when he took himself from her. It was so god-awful, that shock, that she didn’t notice her wrists had been gently corralled by his hands until she tried to finish the job herself.

  “No.” Unfulfilled and furious with frustration, she writhed in the desperate hope that movement would somehow trigger the burgeoning release now corked up inside her. He thwarted even that small chance by pushing her down onto the bed so that she fell sideways against the pillows. He went down with her, his body curved around her, a hair-roughened knee coming between hers so she couldn’t even squeeze her thighs together.

  Damn him.

  She’d fucking kill him for this.

  “I know you want to kill me.” His breath was rough, almost pained, and belatedly she realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud through a dry sob of almost incoherent rage. “But you want me to fuck you even more.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t give a damn how she sounded now. Nothing mattered, except relieving the unsatisfied tension crushing her inside. “Fuck me, you bastard.”

  “No.”

  She’d kill him, she’d kill him, she’d kill him…

  It seemed like they stayed there forever, curled into each other, tense and unmoving. Then, by degrees the tension trickled out of her overwrought body, the throb of her heart climbed back down into an almost normal rhythm, her skin cooled.

  Then his hand went between her legs and within no more than a minute or two, he had her shuddering and moaning, the sweet agony of pleasure tightening so hard, so excruciatingly good, she could feel herself speeding toward the greatest—

  He stopped again.

  To her horror, she burst into tears. “Damn you.”

  “You want to come?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  “There’s only one way you’re getting that tonight, Essie. Same with me, so we’re in the same boat here. So I’ll ask you again… you want to come?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t lie, because he knew her better than she knew herself. At this point she’d do anything.

  His arms tightened. “You want to wrap those soft lips around my cock and suck me off, while you grind your pussy against my face so my mouth can make you come your brains out, is that it? Convince me you want it, Pet, or I swear nothing is gonna happen and we’re both going to suffer tonight.”

  Dear God. “I want it. I want it, Steele.”

  He didn’t answer. Didn’t even move. He just…

  Waited.

  Damn him to hell.

  “I…” She could barely manage a whisper, she was shaking so much, furious he was forcing her to admit what he knew she wanted, and ravenous for what he was making her ask for. “I want to wrap my lips around your cock and suck you off, while I grind my pussy against your face so your mouth can make me come my brains out.”

  Without another word he flipped her with shocking ease, his strength almost spring-loaded. Before she knew it, she was on her hands and knees, suspended over him while he settled himself on his back under her, his legs bent. His hands smoothed up her thighs to grip both her ass cheeks, but when he didn’t push her down like she’d expected, understanding clicked into place. Even now, he would never use brute force to make this happen.

  She had to do it herself.

  Shivering with the force of her need, she lowered herself to his mouth… and shuddered when his lips nuzzled the swollen, slick tissues of her cleft.

  Yes.

  His hips lifted off the mattress and all at once her vision was filled with his fiercely erect cock. From its thick base he was a dark red, veins standing out against the satin-smooth flesh up to his darker, almost purple head, and it was so full it almost lay against his abdomen. Perhaps it made her a bad person, but the first thought that went through her head was to pay him back for tormenting her by giving him a taste of his own damn medicine.

  But even as she ran her tongue long his impressive length before covering the pulsating, dark crown with moistened lips, deep down was the unrelenting drive to give him the greatest pleasure he had ever known. The mere thought heightened her own pleasure, and when she wrapped a hand around his base and took him so deep he moaned, a spasm of near-release tightened her muscles in her pelvic area.

  For what seemed like a suspended eternity, she was torn between the pleasure he gave her and the pleasure she wanted to give. She loved it when she could make him groan; the vibration of it against the super-sensitive flesh his mouth was working was more addicting than any drug on the planet. Because of that, she did everything possible to make him groan again, her lips wet with her sliding efforts even as he began to thrust into her mouth. The pulsations of his cock grew more pronounced while her tongue fluttered around him, and the saltiness of his flavor made her tongue tingle even as he hit the back of he
r throat for the first time.

  “Goddamn it, you’re coming with me.” His snarled declaration barely registered with her, she was so intent on what she was doing. Then he was spreading the hot, intimate tissues of her cleft wide so that his tongue and the faintest scrape of his teeth could abrade her clit. Frantically she tried to stay focused on giving him what he wanted, but she was moaning now as well while he mercilessly toyed with her.

  The sounds she made seemed to be a signal for him, and he pushed down on her ass to bring her lower. Once he had her where he wanted her, his mouth opened on her nub, his lips sealing around it so he could suck it in.

  An incoherent scream burst from her, the sound muffled by the surge of his hardened flesh. Then he was plunging into her even as the crushing tension within her abruptly released and catapulted her into a world of mindless pleasure. Feverishly she lost herself in it; she ground herself down into his mouth, blindly reaching for more even as that pleasure consumed her.

  Suddenly he let out a harsh sound that vibrated against her while the back of her throat flooded with his saltiness as he came. It was the wildest, most intimate moment she’d ever experienced with him, and as much as she hated to admit it, he’d been right.

  As of now, she was a big fan of this unforgettable lesson.

  When he at last hauled her, as limp as a ragdoll, back into his arms several glorious minutes later, she chose to ignore his knowing smirk.

  “Do I have to say I told you so at this point, or is it unnecessary?”

  Maybe she would kill him, after all. “I’ll let you be the judge. Let me know what you’ve decided after I’ve had a nap.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” He rolled her onto her back, his hips settling between her limp-noodle legs even as he reached for the condom box. “You asked me to fuck you, remember? Now that we’ve relieved the worst of the pressure, so to speak, I should be good to go all night long.”

  “Oh… my.” It was all she could get out before he set about proving to her that he was, indeed, a man of his word.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Essie couldn’t see a downside to being called to Steele’s workplace, Private Security International. The few times they had touched upon his private security work, he generally blew it off as being a glorified rent-a-cop and changed the subject before she could delve any deeper, but she wasn’t stupid. Rent-a-cops would never have been hand-picked to be bodyguards for a UN diplomat during one of the most high-profile summit meetings seen so far this year. Nor would a company of low-level, untrained rent-a-cops have a client roll in that was so important—or dangerous—that all phones had to be put in lockdown until that client had left the premises.

  So, no. This was no rent-a-cop business. Not by a long shot.

  That only meant she knew was PSI wasn’t. She had no clue what it was. While she was sure Steele downplayed what he did for a living to minimize the danger of whatever his job actually was, it still kept her in the dark when it came to that facet of his life. That was unacceptable. Now that she had fallen in love with him, she was hungry to know every last bit about him. PSI was just one of the many items on her list that she wanted to know all about when it came to Steele.

  The building itself seemed to take up most of a city block, and it had probably been a warehouse in an earlier incarnation. It now housed several different storefronts that she could see—an interior design office, an insurance company and what looked to be a baby product shop. The biggest chunk of the building was taken up by PSI, its entrance near the building’s corner and protected by about a dozen cement planters filled with what she thought might be pansies in bright shades of white, lilac and purple. A semi-circular eaves over the entrance held up by steel buttresses was both stylish and sophisticated, and it blended surprisingly well with the white-washed brick exterior.

  The light-filled, sophisticated air continued inside, complete with ultra-cool exposed brick walls, brushed-steel pendant lights hanging from the warehouse-level ceiling and black-framed industrial-style windows that allowed tons of sunlight to pour in. The business’s logo took up the entirety of one interior wall in the waiting area that was filled with contemporary cream leather tufted couches and chairs. A reception desk was off to one side and manned by a woman with dark blonde curly hair.

  “Good morning.” The blonde watched her from the moment she entered, prompting Essie to try to imagine what type of person usually walked through PSI’s front door. She couldn’t even fathom. “Welcome to Private Security International. How may I help you?”

  “Hi, I’m Essie Santiago, here to see Ezekiel Steele.”

  “Do you have identification?”

  Essie blinked before she dug her phone case out of the pocket of her A-line navy polka dot skirt, and popped her ID out of its place to hand it over. “Here you go.”

  The blonde gave it a good, long look before handing it back with a smile. “We’ve been expecting you, Ms. Santiago. The other House Of Payne finalists haven’t arrived yet, so go ahead and have a seat in our waiting area, and we’ll start your meeting just as soon as everyone is here.”

  Essie bit her tongue to stop herself from asking if she could see Steele anyway, and instead changed gears. “Would it be possible to read up on any brochures or pamphlets as to what PSI is? I’m here but I’m not exactly sure what PSI is or what it does.” That wasn’t exactly true, but she didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t get a few answers straight from the source.

  “Of course.” The woman plucked a glossy tri-fold from a stack nearby and handed it over. “If you have any questions, just let me know.”

  “Thanks.” With a nod of farewell, Essie moved to the waiting area and settled in a chair that looked toward both the entrance and the reception desk. With her phone still in her hand, she glanced through the information on PSI and saw it was pretty much what she’d expected. Every field agent was an honorably discharged member of the military, most of whom had combat experience. It was founded by James “Cap” Fogelmann, a retired Marine colonel. There was a basic list of PSI’s services that included what she already knew—business security and bodyguard detail.

  But there were also services that sounded both ominous and mysterious, like courier services, corporate self-defense training, cyber security, defensive driving training/tactics and something simply labeled international security.

  What exactly did that entail?

  Something dangerous, she was sure, and something that needed military-trained, combat-proven personnel.

  Like Steele.

  A chill scuttled over her flesh as the reality of Steele’s chosen profession sank in. Grim-faced, she set the brochure aside and tried to lighten the mood by opening her phone’s text app. As she typed in Steele’s name, Olivier walked through the glass doors.

  “I’m here at PSI. Olivier just showed up, too. Still waiting on Dizzy Izz. You here?”

  Of course she knew he was there, but she wanted to remind Steele that whenever they were in the same building like they were now, life was so much better when they were together. But as the seconds ticked into minutes and Steele didn’t respond or show up, she figured he was in another lockdown and couldn’t get to his phone.

  With that in mind, she smiled to herself. How much fun would it be to send him a few brow-raising messages—messages that would be there waiting to tease him once he got his phone back and she was long gone?

  No time like the present to find out, she thought with a smirk.

  “This is a nice place, PSI. Very professional. Maybe I was wrong to not wear any underwear under my skirt. I feel underdressed.”

  She was wearing a thong, actually, but since she doubted he’d see the message before their meeting, it was good for a laugh.

  “Sort of assumed going commando while dropping in on commandos was the correct fashion choice. Now I’m second-guessing.”

  Smiling to herself, she glanced around the reception area and its wide open spaces, then smiled at Olivier when she ac
cidentally caught his eye. He didn’t return it—no surprise there—and instead gave her a look that stated quite clearly that it was killing him to exist in the same universe as her. Again, not a surprise. But it did give her another inspiration for a text.

  “Looking at Olivier close up, I think I now know what his problem is. He’s never been laid. As a former sort-of virgin, I can spot the signs.”

  She tried not to laugh at that, and she sure as hell didn’t glance at Olivier again out of fear of giving away that she was texting about him.

  “Too bad Olivier doesn’t have a Professor like I do. I don’t suppose there’s anyone here who could give him lessons? Or that there’s a place within PSI to hold these lessons?”

  She sent that message and immediately began typing the next.

  “I guess that’s not the sort of classroom you security types would need to have onsite. Too bad. Since I’m underwear-less, we could’ve used a room like that.”

  The sound of the door opening brought her attention to Dizzy Izz, swathed in her usual black-on-black garb and eyes darting around nervously, as if she expected an ambush at any moment. Again Essie offered a smiling greeting and, like Olivier, was ignored by the older woman.

  “Dizzy Izz just showed up. Damn. Was hoping I’d have time to run out and buy some panties. Oh well. I’ll just avoid walking over floor vents. Can you imagine? Talk about a full moon over Chicago.”

  She could hear the woman at the reception desk speaking with Dizzy Izz, and caught the faint confusion and disbelief on the receptionist’s face as she listened to the fashion designer’s response. Essie snorted and turned her attention back to her phone to ask Steele if he’d warned everyone that Dizzy Izz spoke in the third person, when suddenly Steele was there, appearing from a wide hall behind the desk and looking severely professional in black tailored pants and charcoal gray Oxford shirt. His glance scanned the entirety of the waiting area, paused ever so briefly on her before he continued on his way to the desk. Once there, he spoke briefly to the woman before he turned back toward the hall.