Odalia did enjoy putting on a show.
He unzipped his jeans and shoved the rest of his clothing down, stepping out of his underwear and pants.
Jacques was a big man, in every sense of the word. She shivered, eyeing his cock as he stroked himself from root to tip.
“You can say no, bébé,” he said in a voice so low and rough she knew it was forced.
“You’re right. I can, but I won’t.”
His gaze flashed, and he paced toward the bed, digging his hand into her hair and forcing her back. She moaned into his mouth, seeking more connection.
He climbed on the bed, breaking the connection long enough to rummage in the nightstand, muttering to himself until he retrieved a condom. She grinned, watching him tear it open with his teeth and roll the latex on his hard length.
Odalia twisted to watch over her shoulder as he laid his palms against her back and kissed the places that still stung. Their gazes locked as his tongue flicked over one hurt, soothing it. His hands grasped her panties, pulling them down her hips. She lifted up on her knees, and he slid them off, tossing them over the edge of the bed.
Her heart hammered in her chest as if this were her first time, which was silly. But she savored the surge of nerves, the anticipation and the sense of urgency in her breast.
She spread her knees and planted her hands on the mattress, fisting the sheet to give her something to hold on to.
Jacques positioned himself between her legs, one hand at her hip. She felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance and sucked in a deep breath. He pushed forward, and she breathed out, forcing herself to relax. He thrust, sinking deeper, his progress eased by how soaked her pussy had become during their play.
“Damn, bébé.”
Jacques withdrew and thrust again. She moaned as delicate flesh stretched around his girth. She’d never been so full before.
“Yeah,” he muttered as his length lodged within her.
Odalia’s inner muscles fluttered, hugging him tight.
He wrapped her locks around his fist, and her pulse jumped to triple time as he pulled her head back. Most men wouldn’t dare fuck her like this, as though they owned her, body and soul, but Jacques was not a man who questioned whether or not he could. He simply did.
Odalia moaned as he began to piston in and out of her, assaulting her sensitized pussy, pushing her forward with force, not gentle care. The roots of her hair prickled with a pleasant, slightly painful sensation as he tugged each time his cock plunged deep.
“Oh, God,” she muttered and dropped to her elbows, seeking a better grasp on the edge of the mattress.
His thrusts grew rougher, his hold on her tighter as she was bent into an almost impossible curve.
She struggled to stave off the tide of orgasm until he’d found pleasure, till his cock pulsed deep within her. Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Jacques circled her waist with his free arm, plunging deep and hard. His fingertips fanned over her mound, brushing the sensitive nerves.
Odalia screamed as the tidal wave of orgasm washed over her, setting off the mother of all explosions behind her eyelids. She was aware of Jacques shouting, of his rough, uneven thrusts. Her body shuddered, spent and weak as he stilled behind her.
For several long moments the only sound was of their labored breathing. Jacques moved first, pulling out of her and flopping on the bed. He unbuckled the cuffs and pulled her over his chest, cradling her.
Odalia cuddled closer, loving the sensual feel of lying naked, spent and used next to someone.
Chapter Three
Jacques scratched Creature behind the ears. The pit bull’s tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. A single lamp chased away the darkness as he waited for his obsession to return to her home. Odalia’s come-hither eyes, the hardships she’d faced and her independence drew him.
Odalia was a woman who challenged him, and Jacques liked a challenge. He did not like having let her down.
The front door banged open, and Creature shot to his feet and across the room, tail and hindquarters wagging. Odalia kicked the door shut and dropped to her knee.
“Hello, did you miss me?” she cooed at the animal. Her hair was up in a severe bun, and the uniform hid the colorful woman underneath. Why had it taken him so long to see her apart from the badge? He’d had a glimpse of what was underneath, and he liked it.
“I know I did.” Jacques smiled and laced his fingers together behind his head.
Odalia’s head jerked up, and she gaped at him. “What are you doing here?”
“You have my Jeep.” Jacques pushed to his feet and strolled through the kitchen and living room. They’d had to scramble to get back to her Jeep, only to find its tires slashed, so he’d given her his keys.
Odalia stood. “You put new tires on my Jeep. How did you get in?”
“Your back window’s loose in the casing. Reached in and unlocked the door. Let myself in.” Jacques invaded her space, and she retreated until her back hit the door. The tough little cop responded to him on a base level, that was for sure. He cupped her face, turning her toward the light. There were no marks, no indication she’d had anything but a typical day.
Thank the Lord.
“That’s breaking and entering,” she whispered, a stern cast to her voice.
“I call it being resourceful.”
He bent and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, and the hand clenching his heart eased its grip. Odalia pressed closer, a little moan escaping her lips.
“No.” She shook her head and pushed him back.
He lifted his hands and took several steps away from her, the single word a knife to his gut. “Sorry, I thought—”
“Not that kind of no.” She dug in her pocket and shoved a piece of paper at him. “I guess I’m glad you’re here. I was doing paperwork today, and I found that.”
He unfolded the paper.
I’ve seen the pictures, you slut.
“Where did you find this?” He turned the paper over. It was plain white paper, the kind found in any printer in the city.
“In my active files on my desk at the station. The ones I’m sure to look at every fucking day.” Odalia knelt and hugged Creature, who seemed to sense his mistress’ distress.
The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach dropped. It was as he’d feared. “It’s another cop,” he said.
Odalia laid her head against Creature’s back. The dog whined and twisted to sniff at her.
Jacques crouched next to her, hating to press her, but if they were dealing with a cop, it changed the game. “After I finished at the shop, I drove over here. There was a car parked down the street in direct sight with a man in it. He didn’t move, didn’t go anywhere for almost an hour. Do you know anyone who drives an older, blue, four-door sedan?”
Odalia shook her head and stood. “No, not that I can think of. Does it have to be a cop?”
The pain in her gaze, the way her brow furrowed and the corners of her mouth turned down, hurt his heart.
“Let’s think about it. Who would be able to frame Kenny and leave a note in your things in the middle of the station?” It made sense, and he didn’t like it either. The implications that another officer was behind it went against everything his little cop believed in.
“I need to go to the gym.” She strode through the house and up the stairs, Creature on her heels.
Jacques followed, reaching the top stair as Odalia tossed her uniform shirt on a chair and kicked her shoes under it. She shucked her belt and pants all in one move, leaving her in black panties and a tank top. The lines of worry had deepened, and a haunted expression clung to her.
The room was decorated in gauzy fabrics and geometric patterns, with candles on almost every surface. The fragrance of pears clung to the air. Pears and vanilla. It was neat, clean and showed a touch of the feminine side she hid.
“Hey. Hey, stop a second.” He caught her elbows and pulled her to a stop as she crossed toward a dresse
r next to the bed. When she didn’t meet his gaze, he tapped her chin with his knuckle. “We’re going to catch him.”
Their gazes locked, and the turmoil boiling inside of her broadcast loud and clear. She jerked her arm out of his hold.
Creature trotted past them and jumped onto the bed, making himself comfortable.
“I need to hit something,” she muttered.
“Hit me.” If she needed to take her anger out on someone, who better than him? This was his fault, after all. He hadn’t protected the images like he should have. Just bringing the camera into the office while they ate would have solved their whole problem. Instead, he’d thought with his cock, only wanting to be near Odalia. He couldn’t move forward with her, with what he wanted to do, until they got those pictures back.
Odalia needed to ground herself. She needed something he could give her. A little hot and heavy physical action.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed stretchy yoga pants out of a drawer.
“I’m serious, bébé.”
“I am not hitting you.” She stepped into the pants, scowling at him.
“Fine.”
Jacques took one step, grabbed her by the waist and tossed her back on the bed. Odalia squawked, and Creature jumped to his feet, barking. He went to grab her leg, but caught the flash of iron-gray fur from the corner of his eye and jumped backward.
Creature’s jaws snapped together where his arm would have been.
“Stop.” Odalia snatched Creature’s collar and hauled the dog off the bed. “My dog will tear you to bits. Come on, Creature.”
She led the dog to the stairs and gave him a little push. The dog glanced over his shoulder, almost appearing sad before he trotted down to the first floor. She closed the door and turned to stare at him.
In a move so fast he might not have been able to dodge or deflect if he’d wanted to, she took one step and planted her right foot in his chest, knocking him back onto the bed. He bounced, grinning. She had fire, and he didn’t mind getting burned.
She jumped on top of him, straddling his waist, and punched his chest, once, twice, not hard enough to hurt. The third blow never came. Her shoulders slumped. She lowered herself until she lay on top of him, her head pillowed on his chest.
Jacques reached up and unrolled her hair, taking out the pins and letting the locks fall in loose waves, pooling all around them. He dug his fingers in, massaging her scalp until she relaxed.
It was a crime that someone was destroying the beautiful pictures they’d created. He’d savored each pose, the progression of dressed to nude, how she’d submitted to every show of bondage for the camera while looking past it to him. They’d danced around each other, exchanging power through the give and take of subject and film. Whoever the bastard was, Jacques hoped to get a piece of him for defiling such a beautiful thing.
He rubbed her shoulders, gently at first, progressing until he dug his thumbs into the knots. If they’d been at his loft, he’d use the new batch of herbal massage oils that should be ready to test. The fragrant blend in the mixture would ease the tension out and leave her soft and supple.
Jacques wrapped his arms around her, studying the contrast and complement of their skin tones next to each other while she rested her head against his shoulder. The picture they made consisted of light to dark, hard to soft. There was a story to be told, but would she allow him to photograph her again? Would she ever sit in front of a camera after this? Would she trust him again?
He kissed her forehead.
“We’re going to figure this out together, bébé.”
She splayed her hand against his chest. “I’m trying to think of who it could be if it is a cop.”
“Got any ideas?”
“Plenty.” Odalia shrugged.
“Really?” He frowned. Not all cops were honest, but this?
“Think about it, Jac. I’m a female cop working a tough beat. All the guys think I can’t handle it. It’s tough being one of a handful of women on the force. Sometimes it feels like it’s not just the criminals working against me.”
“I know, bébé.” It was a tough world, and she’d chosen to meet it head-on. He took a deep breath and uttered the question that had circled his brain for several hours. “What about anyone you’ve dated on the force?”
Odalia shrugged. “It’s a short list with even shorter relationships. Nothing bad to tell there. Things didn’t work out.”
“Were they power exchanges?”
She lifted her head, her gaze boring into his for a few moments. “No.”
“Do you keep your kink and your relationships separate?” It was his curiosity eating at him now.
“Tried that. Didn’t work.”
Good.
Jacques wasn’t going to invest in a woman who wanted one thing from him. He was a greedy bastard, and he’d take everything she’d give him. But after he got those pictures back.
Odalia folded her hands over his chest and rested her chin on top of them. “I don’t have any more answers for you. I’ve been over it again and again in my head.”
“How ’bout something to take your mind off it then?” He dragged his fingers up her back, bringing the tank top with him.
One side of her mouth kicked up. “What do you have in mind?”
Had they only played that morning? Being inside of her still seemed as if it were more of a dream than reality.
“Something relaxing.” He’d seen her candles all over the room, and several were the cheap kink wax play tools.
Odalia planted her hands on either side of his shoulders and lifted, just enough to drag her breasts over his chest as she aligned her mouth to his. Warm lips, the taste of mint.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Relax me.”
ODALIA LAY ACROSS THE FOOT OF HER BED, not a stitch of clothing on her body. The bed was covered in plastic and rustled whenever she shifted. The lights were off, but Jacques had lit almost all of her candles, bathing the room in a soft glow.
She could hear him moving around her, his steps light. She sensed him kneel at her side.
Liquid fire dripped along her spine, and she hissed. Jacques poured a line down her vertebra from her neck to her tailbone. She wiggled and pressed her pelvis into the mattress as the heat bled out into the rest of her skin. With the initial shock over, it began to feel good.
Jacques slid his palm up her right side while dripping more wax along her left. The sensations mixed together. His heated flesh. The fire-warmed wax. The cool room. A shiver skittered up her spine at the overload.
There was something sensual about wax, the way it warmed the body and left even the tightest muscles soft and relaxed. She surrendered herself to the spell he wove around them.
He must have put the candle down because Jacques used both hands to knead her shoulders, working out more of the knots.
“Oh bayou, my baby on the bayou tonight.” Jacques’ voice rumbled, low, deep and rich, and his twang flavored the lullaby, pulling her further under his sway.
The words were a mixture of repeated phrases, calling to the creatures in the swamp and his baby. For now, the thing that mattered was being with him. His hands on her back, the wax he dripped on her skin when she wasn’t expecting it and the sensual energy swirling around them were the center of her world.
“I’ll fly o’er that bayou to you,” he sang.
Odalia hissed as hot wax dripped on the backs of her knees. The momentary pain passed, leaving her skin hot and sensitive. The wax trail continued down her calves. He even dripped some on the soles of her feet and took a moment to rub them.
“I’ll fly o’er that bayou to you.”
She let his voice take her away, out to the bayou where she’d grown up on the edges of New Orleans. Close enough for Dad to find work, but far enough away that she could remember paddling around to the neighbors in a pirogue. She could hear the cicadas singing and the gators bellowing in the night. They were the pleasant years of her life,
wrapped in song and covered in warmth, before the storm hit and ripped it all away.
Odalia didn’t know how long she’d lain there, but every time she moved, the wax cracked.
“Come back to me, bébé,” Jacques muttered, stroking her hair.
“Hmm?”
He chuckled, and something silver flashed in her peripheral vision.
The problem with wax play—how did you get layers of it off?
She turned her head and held her breath as Jacques ran a large pocketknife across her shoulder, shearing off several layers of wax in white, yellow and purple.
Three empty glass cylinders with different saints printed on the surface lay on the floor nearby. While many kinksters bought expensive waxes to play with, the cost-conscious could purchase the cheap dollar-store candles. With a high paraffin content, they burned faster and cooler than many other brands. And at a dollar a pop, it was hard to argue a better three dollars spent.
She watched as Jacques peeled back long strips of multi-colored wax. With each stroke of the blade, she breathed easier.
He glanced at her but his gaze never rested long on her face. She didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if he were wiping her down. She appreciated the intense care he took, considering the knife was sharp. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to have a blade for show on his person. If he needed a knife, chances were it was to cut something.
By the time Jacques had removed every piece of wax, she was boneless, relaxed and aroused.
He helped her up off the bed and bundled the plastic and wax shavings into a ball. At some point he’d removed his shirt and shoes.
“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Odalia reached out and traced the darker dots inked in his flesh. They made a swirling geometric pattern over his left shoulder blade and down his arm.
He held still as she traced the dots, but she got lost among them, unsure which connected to the other. It reminded her of her father’s tattoo, what he’d called a voodoo love amulet.
Odalia laid her cheek against Jacques’ back and circled his waist with her arm. The scent of pears and vanilla filled the room. It even clung to his skin.
First Taste: A Collection of Hot Alpha Doms Page 15
