SWAT: Contemporary Cop Romance

by Lily Harlem

  “Jonathan!” Damn, would he even fit his cock in there? I was so full already now that my ass had the plug.

  “But not yet,” he said, withdrawing and coming to stand at the side of the bench. “There’s more to be done.”

  Chapter Six

  I groaned, wondering what Jonathan’s erotic imagination still had in store for me.

  He scooped up my left breast, taking my nipple into his mouth. He sucked, then nibbled, his teeth applying just enough pressure to make me squirm. And then something tight clamped over it.

  I cried out and again fought the straps holding me to the bench. Damn, that was like a whip of fire.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” he said against my lips. “Stick with it, the pain will become warm and delicious in a few seconds.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  He kissed me, catching my protests. I knew I could safeword, but I didn’t want to. I wanted Jonathan’s games and his scene to go as he’d planned.

  I released a breath and harnessed my control.

  “That’s it,” he said, walking around my head, his hand trailing over my skin. “And now for this one.”

  Again he massaged and suckled my breast. I knew what was coming, though, and didn’t relax into it. But that meant when the clamp was applied I didn’t startle. I counted to ten and waited for the pain to become a sensual dull throb.

  “I’ll always want you,” he said. “Your mind, your body, your heart, and your submission.” He kissed my forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

  He stepped away and began to unbuckle his belt.

  I watched him, always finding it sexy to see him or Ricardo do that. It meant fun was coming, hot, sexy fun.

  He slid it from the first loops and let the leather hang, then he undid his fly and shoved his pants down over his thick thighs. There were no boxers—Jonathan always went commando when we came to The Dungeon.

  He toed off his shoes, then removed his socks and pants completely.

  Gloriously naked, he stood at the head of the bench again.

  “How are you feeling, sub?” he asked as he tenderly stroked my hair back from my brow.

  “Hot, a little twitchy…needy.”

  “What do you need?”

  “You.”

  “You’re going to get me. But you’ll have to trust me, okay.”

  “You know I do.”

  He slipped one hand beneath the crown of my head and held it up slightly from the bench. I was aware of movement, a little tugging and then the top of the bench, where my crown had been resting, was gone. If he released my head, I’d have nothing there to support it.

  “This is a little different for you,” he said. “But it will be amazing.”

  I didn’t answer, instead I put my trust in him to hold my head as I relaxed my neck. Jonathan totally owned me in that moment. Legs high and wide, butt plug inserted and nipple clamps creating sweet torture.

  “Relax your neck,” he said.

  I did as he’d asked and he lowered my head so my throat was stretched.

  I was practically upside down now, his cock all I could see.

  “Open up,” he said, still holding the back of my head. “And take this.”

  With my mouth stretched wide, I took the tip of his erection between my lips. Its taste and shape were familiar and as he fed it into me I groaned around his shaft.

  “That’s it,” he said, his voice tense. “Good girl. Good sub.”

  The way he said ‘girl’ and ‘sub’ further removed me from my daily life. It made me feel so distant from everything except for pleasing my Master and him pleasing me.

  “Keep wide, and let me in here.” He stroked beneath my chin, to my throat. “I can get real deep from this position.”

  My cheeks bulged and I took in ribbons of air through my nose. He was travelling smooth and steady and sliding over the back of my tongue.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he said. “I can see the outline of my cock filling your throat. Fuck, that’s hot, take it. Take more.”

  I swallowed around him.

  He groaned and gently caressed my neck and the underside of my chin. He was so damn big and solid, and the salty tang of pre-cum laced my tastebuds. “Oh, Freya.”

  He withdrew a little, then pushed back in, his angle the same and filling my throat. He repeated the action. For several minutes the rhythm continued.

  I tensed around the plug in my ass and curled my toes. I was trembling. I wanted him to come and I wanted to come again too. My pulse whooshed in my ears, my upside down position intensifying the sound. My skin prickled with sweat and the small hairs on my arms stood to attention.

  “Fuck, I have to stop,” he said, pulling out.

  I gasped for air and he raised my head so it was level again. Within a second the bench had been put back together and I could rest my crown on it. “Jonathan,” I said, missing his cock in my mouth. “Please.”

  “Not Jonathan—Master.” He released the clamp on my left nipple.

  The sudden shot of discomfort had me squeezing my eyes closed and rising from the bench. The blood rushing to the area was white-hot.

  He set his mouth over it, laving it with his tongue.

  I groaned and thrashed my head. My pussy was throbbing and damp. I needed him. I needed fucking.

  But I knew better than to demand that.

  It would get me nothing.

  “You’ve got me so hard it hurts,” he said, kissing from my breasts to my belly. “And now I’m going to fuck you…hard.”

  “Yes.” I was panting. “Yes, oh…yes…” I was glad I was strapped down, I hardly knew what to do with myself. My need for him was so intense. I was sure just one flick of my clit and I’d come.

  He stepped between my legs, holding his cock.

  I tensed my thighs, tugged at the straps around my shins. I wanted to wrap my legs around his hips, drag him close, closer still and deep into me. But I couldn’t. I was sprawled helpless before him, his to do with as he pleased and he was certainly having a good play with me.

  “You’re still so wet.” He slipped two fingers into my pussy. “Sucking my cock turns you on.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Dirty little girl.” He chuckled. “You look so sweet, but I know the truth.”

  I didn’t think I looked sweet, but if he thought so, that was fine. So long as he gave me some cock, soon.

  “I love your pussy,” he said, “so warm and greedy for it.” He wriggled his fingers and his thumb brushed over my clit.

  I moaned and bit on my bottom lip to stop from crying out for more.

  “And my cock loves it too.” He withdrew his fingers and finally I felt the tip of his glorious erection at my entrance.

  “This is going to be a squeeze,” he said, pulling the skin on my mound to expose my clit. “But worth it.”

  He eased in, stretching me around his glans.

  Damn, he was right. The plug seemed to take up half the space in my pelvis. I could sense its hardness through the thin membrane between my ass and pussy.

  “Oh God, yes…” Jonathan tipped his head back and gritted his teeth. “That…is…it.”

  I tensed around him.

  He grunted and shoved in some more.

  The discomfort was erotic and sensual and when he hit full depth and buffeted up against my clit, I knew an orgasm would be easy to claim.

  “I can feel it,” he said. “The plug, against my shaft.”

  “Yes, I can feel it, too. All of it. All of you.”

  “I want you to come,” he said. “Now.”

  “I will…oh…”

  He’d ground his hips, working deeper into me and rotating over my clit.

  “Oh…oh…I’m…”

  It was there, so fast. A brilliant bright and willing climax.

  I held my breath as it grew, then burst. My pussy spasmed, my asshole clamped tight and my clit bobbed against his body.

  “That’s it, come for m
e,” he said, not letting up with the wicked rubs of his body and shunts of his cock. “And hold it there, you’ll come again.”

  I cried out and closed my eyes. Sensation overload. He kept on doing what he was doing, and the moment the orgasm began to abate, another was there.

  “Again,” he demanded. “Come again around my cock.”

  “Jonathan… Master…”

  “Now.”

  I yelped as burning heat tortured my right nipple. He’d removed the clamp and again the return of blood had taken my breath away. It stung and bit and sent more ropes of desire and excitement winging over my skin.

  “Freya, I order…you to…come.”

  He was close too, I could tell. His shaft was rock solid, his voice strained.

  The rubbing on my clit was relentless and I allowed myself to spiral into another orgasm. I pulsed and shook, came hard and struggled to catch my breath as my back arched and bowed on and off the bench.

  He gripped my breasts in his big hands and drove in and out of me like a man possessed. If I hadn’t been so swept up in pleasure it would have hurt, this wild treatment, but I lapped it up. Allowed it to take me to new highs where my orgasms owned me, and my heart overspilled with love for Jonathan.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming in you so fucking high in you I’m fucking coming…” he yelled, then moaned my name. Completely uninhibited and abandoned, he released his cum and his masterful demeanour slipped, allowing me to feel and see into his soul.

  I stared at him as he screwed up his face in pleasure. “I love you,” I gasped.

  He didn’t reply. He was lost to his moment. I hoped my words had entered his soul on a very primal level in his few seconds of abandonment and he’d never forget them.

  “Freya.” He caught my mouth with his, his chest pressing against his hands which still held my breasts.

  I kissed him and yanked my arms and legs, again wanting to circle them around him.

  “You’re so fucking awesome,” he said onto my lips. “I’m never… going to want…to stop…doing that to you.”

  “That suits me.”

  The stillness after such frantic fucking seemed to swell around me. I closed my eyes, sinking inward on myself as my last orgasm abated.

  Jonathan lifted up, then slid from me.

  I moaned and stretched my toes and fingers wide, then let them relax.

  “I’m taking this out now,” he said.

  The butt plug wriggled inside of me, then slid outwards. My asshole widened and then clamped tight closed. It was strange without it there—even though it had been big, I’d gotten used to it. I shivered, the sweat on my skin cooling.

  “We’ll soon have you wrapped up and warm.” He released the straps on my legs, then on my arms. Like the plug, I missed the feel of them. For a while they’d given me the excuse to do nothing and be responsible for nothing.

  A large, soft blanket rested over me.

  “Come here.” He scooped me up, holding me tight to his chest.

  I rested my head on his shoulder as he carried me to the armchair in the corner of the room.

  “Try and keep your mind empty for a while,” he said, sitting and positioning me on his lap. “It will do you good.”

  I didn’t answer. Instead I breathed in the scent of his skin and absorbed the heat of his body through the blanket.

  I kept my eyes closed as he rubbed my back gently, soothingly, and murmured how much he loved and adored me.

  It was a heavenly dreamy state, as if I’d taken drugs. Jonathan and his kinks were my drug—Jonathan and Ricardo were two addictions I had no intention of recovering from.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said after a while.

  I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if one time we should bring Ricardo here.”

  He was quiet for a moment. I wondered if I’d unsettled him. Then, “Could you handle us both? Imagine if I’d just finished with you and he started.”

  I looked up at him and stroked his chin. “I’d give it a go. I like it when we have a threesome. It’s been a while.”

  “I like it too. Watching you get fucked is hot.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can watch without doing, without any responsibility for it. And you look amazing when you orgasm.”

  I understood what he meant by giving up responsibility. “Then we should all get together soon. I’ll enjoy knowing you’re having fun watching me and Ricardo. I like the way he fucks.”

  “Maybe not here,” he said. “Maybe this can be just for us. It’s intense.”

  I relaxed against his solid muscles. “You’re probably right.”

  “It’s strange,” he said.

  “What is?”

  “When I found out you and Ricardo were an item, I thought I’d be jealous. When I know you’ve been together fucking, I thought it would make my skin crawl and a rage grow in me.”

  “But it doesn’t?”

  “No. Perhaps it’s maturity, maybe it’s just you. But I don’t feel like that. You’re one hell of a sexy woman, Freya, and in tune with your needs. I’m happy for you to fuck other people on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” I studied his face, searching his eyes for a clue as to what he was about to say.

  “You’re always honest with me and it makes you happy.”

  “I like to think I’m an honest person, and happy, and yes, I like sex.”

  “I know.” He laughed softly. “Believe me, I know you like sex.”

  “And I like men who don’t pussyfoot around and know how to satisfy me. Men who aren’t scared to take a risk. I can’t cope with guys who have histrionics if I have other people, other lovers, in my life.”

  “Luckily you’re in the right profession to surround yourself with characters who seek only to be the best at whatever they’re doing and can keep their cool in unusual situations.”

  I didn’t answer, instead I listened to hard strikes landing on flesh. They were coming from the booth next to ours and sounded particularly evil and were accompanied by muffled, agonised cries.

  “What do you think of Sean and Balko?” I asked.

  He was silent for a moment. I wasn’t sure if he was also listening to the noises next door or if he was considering his answer. “I think Sean has something to prove to the world, he has a reckless glint in his eye, and Balko, he seems like a man who won’t be shaken easily.”

  “Really? You think that already?”

  “Yes. Maybe it’s because Balko’s a fraction older, he’s got a few more years in the force under his belt. I just get that impression.”

  “So Sean is the one to watch?”

  “I’d say so.”

  More strikes from the booth next door. A deep, stern voice accompanied them.

  “That sounds really painful,” I said, sitting forward. My body had become mine again. My heart rate normal and my breaths steady.

  He frowned. “Yeah, it’s extreme.”

  “You worried?”

  He helped me to standing. “Get dressed, we’ll take a peek on our way out. It’s my responsibility as a Master member to make sure no one is in trouble, though there should be security staff discreetly keeping an eye out.”

  I stood, then slipped into my underwear, dress and boots. Before we stepped out of our booth, I reached for the collar. I undid it and it slid from my neck. “Here.” I held it out.

  He stared at it for a second, then took the strip of leather and pocketed it. “Until next time, boss.”

  I nodded. Playtime was over.

  Chapter Seven

  We stepped from our booth into the main club wearing our masks again. I’d pulled the strap of my purse over my head so it sat securely.

  On a stage were two poles with girls dancing around them. A large mattress to the right was hosting an orgy and in a cage a man was bound and gagged and it appeared his Dominatrix was taking bids for him.

  But I barely noticed any of this. The muffled cries from next door
were becoming one long groaning, pain-soaked wail.

  Jonathan, also dressed again, frowned at me, then flicked his head. “Come on, let’s check this out.”

  He pulled back the thick velvet curtain.

  In the booth was a naked woman spread-eagled on a wooden cross. Her head was twisted towards me and she wore a leather ball gag. A heavy silver chain appeared to be clamped from her nipples, around her waist, down the cleft of her ass and to her clit. She danced on her toes as a thick cane sliced over her buttocks.

  And it really did slice. Her bright red cheeks were striped with wounds, some of them dripping blood. No. They were all dripping blood.

  I stared at her tear-stained face again as Jonathan pushed into the room. Her eyes were wide and pleading. Her cries were real—her pain not sensual but obviously miserable.

  “Hey,” Jonathan said, stepping up to a guy with a short brown beard and wearing a black cap. His eyes were thin slits and he wore a dark roll-neck despite the warmth.

  “Stop,” Jonathan demanded. “Drawing blood is against the rules.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” The cane landed again.

  The woman jerked and squealed behind her gag.

  “Stop now.” Jonathan set his hand on the cane, preventing the man from delivering another blow.

  “Fuck. Cut the movie.”

  It was then I noticed another guy crouched in the corner. He was filming the caning with a small black camera. It looked reasonably professional and he too had a cap pulled low.

  “Get the hell out of here,” the guy with the cane said to Jonathan. “This is none of your fucking business. She wants this.”

  The woman was sobbing, her ribs evident as she pulled air in and out of her lungs.

  “It is my business. Filming is against the rules. So is having a sub who can’t speak or gesture a safeword.”

  “Fuck off.” The guy shoved Jonathan’s shoulder and yanked the cane free. “Before I make you.”

  Jonathan widened his stance. He glanced at me.

  I nodded, just once, a small tip of my head. This was trouble.

  Jonathan whipped his badge from his pocket and flashed it at both guys. “I’m a cop. Time to get real.”