SWAT: Contemporary Cop Romance

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SWAT: Contemporary Cop Romance Page 4

by Lily Harlem


  “Comfortable?” he asked, tying the mask into place beneath my high ponytail.

  “Yes.”

  “You left your phone in the car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He paused. “But don’t forget this.” He pulled a small leather collar from his pocket. It was one I’d worn before.

  I nodded. “Of course not.”

  He slipped it around my neck, his big fingers taking a moment to fasten the small silver buckle. I understood the significance of it. Now I was under his command. Now I was his.

  “You’re all set for pleasure and pain, my sweet little sub.”

  A tremble ran down my spine as he took my hand and led me through the doorway. I was happy to let him lead me, when so often it was me shouting the commands.

  The lighting was low and complemented by candles perched on ornate wall sconces. The carpet and walls were a deep burgundy. Behind a polished reception desk sat a woman with a sharp, glossy-black bob and huge gold-hooped earrings.

  When she spotted Jonathan she sat a little straighter and licked her bottom lip which was painted matt purple.

  A kernel of jealousy stabbed at my chest. Had Jonathan dominated her in the past? Was she a submissive who hoped for his attention?

  He tightened his hold on me, squeezing my fingers, and I was glad of the reassurance, even if it was unspoken. Jonathan loved me—he’d told me only a few days ago that he did, and many more times before that.

  “It’s good to see you, Sir,” she said in a heavily-accented voice. I recognised the accent—it was similar to Balko’s.

  “Anouka, you too,” he said, reaching for the pen she handed over.

  Her attention turned to me, and her gaze dipped to my exposed cleavage.

  “Where are you from?” I asked.

  She appeared a little taken aback. “Originally from Slovakia.”

  I nodded, tucking away the information about my new colleague. He must be from there, or at least a country close by.

  “Thank you,” Jonathan said, placing the pen on the register.

  “Have a fun evening,” Anouka said, fluttering her eyelashes several times.

  “I’m sure we will.” Jonathan slipped his arm around my waist and steered me down the corridor.

  “When were you last here?” I asked.

  “About a month ago.”

  “Did you fuck her?”

  “No!” He shook his head. “Why would you think that?”

  “The way she looked at you.”

  “I’m not saying she wouldn’t like me to fuck her, or to paddle her, cane her, and have her begging for mercy because she just can’t handle another orgasm, but that’s not to say I’m going to do that.”

  My mouth dried at the thought of not being able to handle another orgasm. Was that even a thing?

  “But I might dominate her,” he said.

  “Jonathan?”

  “The thing is.” He stopped, then pressed me against the wall. His lips hovered over mine and his palms flattened on the wall either side of my head. “I only want to fuck you, Freya. You’re my woman. You own my heart. But I have needs, Dominant needs, and I can come here and satisfy them without having sex.”

  “Go on.”

  “So I’m not cheating, if I come here and flog Anouka, make her come with a vibrator, I’m still yours.”

  I touched his ruggedly handsome face, stroking over his cheek then down his nose which had a bump in the centre.

  “You fuck Ricardo,” he said, “because you need more than one man in your life. And the only way you can do that is to have men like us, like me, who understand desire and kink and different ways of having a relationship.”

  I nodded. “What you’re saying is true.”

  “I know.” He kissed me. “And my love for you is true. Never doubt it.”

  He skimmed his hand down my neck, over my right breast and then slid it around my waist. “But enough talking. I want you naked and screaming my name.”

  Chapter Five

  “Jonathan.” It wasn’t a scream, more of a gasp.

  “Hold on,” he said, curling his hands over mine.

  He’d taken me to a private booth and drawn the curtain across so we couldn’t be seen. Then, once I was naked, he’d stood me beneath a bar and raised my arms.

  “Hold it tight,” he said against my forehead. “You’ll be punished if you release it before I tell you to.”

  “Yes… Master.”

  “Good girl.”

  I was rewarded for my rare use of the word Master by a lovely, deep kiss. His tongue swept over mine and his lips were firm.

  When he pulled back he tugged a lever to his right. The small bar I was holding raised.

  “Don’t let go,” he ordered.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as my arms stretched, then my torso. I had to go up on my toes to hold on. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to maintain the grip.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, tracing the shape of my arms, my outer breasts, waist and hips. “How do you feel?” He slid back up again.

  “Stretched, Master.”

  “I’m sure we can make you feel a few other things too.”

  He stepped away and I swung a little struggling to stay so elongated. But I would. I was determined to. My nipples were tight peaks and my pussy already damp in anticipation of what Jonathan had planned.

  He hadn’t taken off a stitch of clothing yet.

  In the corner of the room was a black leather bench complete with stirrups. I’d seen that kind of thing in a medical setting before, but not here.

  Jonathan was at a cupboard. His back was rod straight beneath his crisp white shirt and his head stooped.

  When he turned with something in his hand, I knew what it would be.

  A flogger.

  I gulped. It was much bigger than I’d imagined. And when he thwacked the side of his leg, each strip of leather seemed to crack against the material of his black pants.

  “You know why you’re getting this, don’t you, sub?”

  I nodded.

  “Pardon?”

  “Yes, Master. For a defiant tone.” As I’d spoken I remembered the moment. We’d been in the staff gym. There I’d been his master, his superior. Now the tables were turned. It still stunned me that I enjoyed his dominance, that I allowed it.

  But I did. I adored giving up the responsibility and having Jonathan call the shots. To let him be completely in charge, and allowing myself to trust him totally, with everything that I needed. It was a refreshing to have that weight lifted from my shoulders.

  He allowed the flogger to hang low as he undid the buttons on his shirt. Slowly, one by one. He tugged it from the waistband of his pants and slipped it off. My mouth watered at the sight of his broad chest and lean abdomen. He was so damn big and strong—I hoped he remembered that when he started swiping that flogger on my ass.

  He tossed the shirt aside. It landed on a soft leather armchair.

  “Now it’s time to empty your mind,” he said, coming up behind me. “All that exists is this room, me, your body, and this flogger. I don’t want you to think of anything else.” He set a warm kiss on the nape of my neck. “All other worries, responsibilities, are no longer yours, Freya. I’ve taken them on for you. That’s what a Master does.”

  “Yes,” I said breathily. He was hot against my back. My entire body was so aware of him, vulnerable to him.

  “There’s nothing to think about, so close your eyes and just feel.”

  I did as he’d instructed, the darkness falling inward as if the mask were an extra layer against the outside world.

  “That’s it,” he said, “drop every thought downward, let it flow from your head to your feet.” He swept the flogger softly from my shoulders to my ass, then over the backs of my legs. “The team, the job, your bills, are no longer yours to think of. Let them soak from your toes into the ground.”

  “Yes,” I murmured, tipping my head back and imagining eac
h worry that kept me awake or slid through my mind during the day being absorbed by the Earth.

  “You are light, Freya, light and perfectly in tune with your body and desires.” He paused and the flogger lifted. “You should brace yourself now.”

  My belly tensed, a quiver travelled over my ass. I was aware of the air moving a fraction before the flogger hit across both of my buttocks. It was a sharp, stinging slap, the sound of it a short scream as leather hit flesh. Instantly heat spread over my skin and it was impossible not to jerk away, teetering on my toes.

  “Keep hold,” he said sternly. “Letting go will not bode well for you.”

  I gripped tighter, worrying that if my skin dampened with sweat, I’d slip.

  He struck me again, another layer of heat over the first. I groaned, enjoying the sensation but still wary of it. Jonathan could deliver much harsher strikes if he decided to.

  Another thwack, and another. Now I didn’t have to think about letting my thoughts go—they were just a wisp of dust in my memory. The delicious discomfort building on my ass cheeks was seeping to my pussy and my internal muscles were clenching and releasing, my clit pulsing gently.

  “You pink up nicely,” he said, stepping close so his small patch of chest hair brushed against my skin. “And such a sweet ass.” He rubbed his work-roughened hands over my buttocks. “Is it making you wet?”

  “Yes, I think so.” I still had my eyes closed and my head tipped back. “Please…”

  “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, you’ll get me.”

  The flogger was on my front now. He trailed it from my right shoulder, over my throat, to my left. Each frond created a trail of anticipation.

  “Hold on,” he murmured.

  A sharp slap covered both of my breasts. I hadn’t been expecting that and cried out. Each nipple had taken a direct hit.

  “You’re mine to do with as I wish, remember,” he said, his voice low and with a decidedly dirty edge to it. “So keep still and be prepared for anything.”

  I staggered to the right, my toes aching and my shoulders at full stretch.

  Again my breasts took a strike from the flogger. It wasn’t hard or particularly painful, it was just a surprise and the initial heat intense.

  “I own every bit of you,” he said, trailing the flogger over my stomach to my pussy. “Every sumptuous inch.”

  His fingers replaced the flogger and he slipped them between my legs.

  “Jonathan,” I murmured, trying to part my thighs but succeeding only in unbalancing myself.

  “Sweet sub,” he said against my lips and gliding through my folds. “You are wet.”

  “Mmm…”

  He pushed into my entrance.

  I gripped him, but as soon as I did, he withdrew.

  I held in a moan of complaint. I knew from experience I wasn’t allowed to object or demand anything of him when we were here, playing this way.

  The flogger was against my butt again, then it lifted and a sharp smack rained down on my ass cheeks. It was harder than before, twice as hard.

  I sensed a shift in his mood, as if the warm-up was over and this was the real thing.

  Another strike.

  I danced on my toes as the pain bloomed. But it was good pain, sensual and hot, and it made my arousal flow faster. I fought for breath as another strike landed over the first ones, then another, and another.

  Now my hands were sweaty and I had to concentrate to hold onto the bar and keep my torso pulled long and thin as he’d ordered.

  My world had become black, though my body red-hot. Each nerve was alive and needing—needing it to stop. Needing more.

  “Breathe.” He cupped my right breast, catching my nipple between his fingers. “Take deep breaths, Freya, you can do this.”

  I did as he’d asked, sensing the pleasure in his voice. He was enjoying having me like this, naked and at his mercy.

  He’s such a kinky motherfucker.

  And if he was…so was I.

  He started up again with the flogger. Just as hard as before. I knew he wasn’t putting all of his strength into it, but it couldn’t have been far off. The snap of his wrist was powerful and deadly accurate.

  My eyelids moistened. The sensation began to overwhelm me. My left hand released the bar, slipping in the dampness, and I struggled to catch hold of it again.

  A clatter to my right.

  “You’re done.” I was in his arms, my chest pressed to his. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

  I allowed my aching arms to drop around his neck as I sagged against him.

  “You must say the safeword if you need to, Freya.”

  “I… I don’t need to.”

  “No medals for not saying it.” He breezed his lips over mine. “I know you’re a tough nut to crack, but I don’t want to break you.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Good.” His tone was firmer again. “You can open your eyes if you want to, sub.”

  I did, blinking as I refocused even though the lighting was low. I’d been so immersed in my own world of pain and heat and arousal, the room had slipped away.

  Jonathan walked to the bench and sat me on it. The leather was ice-cold on my blisteringly hot ass.

  “Lie down.” He urged me onto my side, then my back. “Lie down and rest a moment.”

  I stretched out on the skinny bench, aware of every inch of my skin touching it.

  “Like this.” He drew my arms to my sides then fastened a buckle around each of my wrists to keep them harnessed there.

  I studied his face, adoring the concentration which had pulled his dark eyebrows low, and the way his jaw had set tight as he focused on his task. Everything Jonathan did made me feel special to him and adored.

  I want to see his pleasure.

  A long, quivering sigh left my chest, any last remnants of the day leaving me.

  “That’s it,” he said, as if understanding the final bit of my tension had dissipated. “It’s just us now.”

  He lifted first my right leg, then my left, placing them in the stirrups and baring my pussy. I curled my toes as again he strapped my limbs into position.

  He stepped between my legs, not looking at my pussy but at my face. “You’re beautiful.” He trailed his finger down my sternum and dipped it into my navel. He travelled lower to my pussy and again found my entrance. He pushed in, two fingers, knuckle deep.

  I groaned and pressed my head into the bench. “Master.”

  He smiled. “You can come now,” he said, withdrawing a little then pushing back in, stretching me.

  Already?

  “Come now,” he said again. “Quickly, I want to watch you.”

  He began to finger-fuck me, each shunt of his fingers stimulating my G-spot.

  I moaned as the pleasure immediately kicked in. Then when he ducked and swiped his tongue over my clit, I bucked from the table, yanking at my constraints.

  He was so damn clever with his mouth.

  Within seconds he was driving me to climax. I was already so turned on, so in tune with my body. And he was wickedly good at stimulating my hot spots.

  I thrashed my head from side to side. Soon I would come. It was racing towards me like a steam train.

  “Fuck. Fuck,” I gasped. I was so wet, soft noises came from my pussy as he jammed his fingers in and out of me. “I’m…oh…I’m coming…”

  “Yes, come.” He lifted up and replaced his tongue with the heel of his hand as he leaned over me, watching my face.

  “Oh…oh…” I stared into his eyes. The pressure was wild. It almost hurt, he was putting so much energy into it. But that intensity, that shoving in and out and over my clit was what ultimately tipped me over the edge.

  I held my breath for a few beautiful heartbeats as the bliss reached a crescendo. It tumbled upward, outward, and through me. I wailed and battled with the straps on my wrists and legs. The bench shook.

  He kept on going, staying wit
h me as my climax spun me through pleasure. I felt so owned and possessed by him. I was his to do with as he pleased.

  My pussy pulsed around his fingers, gripping him over and over.

  He finally slowed, then stopped. He kissed me, though I struggled to kiss him back. I was panting hard.

  “I love the grip of your cunt when you come,” he whispered. “It’s like it’s pulling me into you, deeper, higher. I want to be in you, part of you, Freya.”

  “Yes,” I managed. “I want that too.”

  “Say you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.”

  He smiled and his eyes flashed. “All of you?”

  “Yes…all of me.”

  “Good.”

  He lifted up and stepped away.

  I was still struggling to catch my breath and my heart was thudding. For a moment I stared at the wooden ceiling and an electric light designed to look like candles set in an iron frame.

  Then I was aware of him back between my legs and the trickle of oil through my folds.

  A low moan rumbled through my chest. He wasn’t finished with me yet. Nowhere near. Jonathan had stamina for fucking. He also had stamina for foreplay.

  “Relax,” he said softly. “While I take all of you.”

  A firm pressure touched against my asshole.

  Oh God.

  “Let me in,” he said, setting his palm over my mound. “Into you…here.”

  The pressure increased, my hole opened around whatever was being inserted into me. It wasn’t his fingers—it was cool and smooth and growing in diameter.

  I moaned and closed my eyes, concentrated on staying relaxed and beating away a small nip of pain.

  “Fuck, yes,” he murmured. “Take it, sub.”

  “Oh…it’s so…” When would it stop? It was too much… “Master.”

  “Nearly there.”

  The slickness continued, my ass filling, then whatever it was popped into me, my hole clamping around a bar to stop it going farther.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he said, “And now, with this butt plug in, when I put my cock into your pussy it’s going to be so tight, so fucking amazing.” He slid two fingers into my pussy. “Yes, can you feel that?”

 

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