by Tess Summers
He already knew what he wanted to order, so he didn’t need to look at the menu and instead was able to subtly stare at her tits, the pale mounds of flesh peeking out between the buttons of her blouse drove him crazy.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled as her hand discreetly began rubbing his inner thigh.
When she set her menu down, he asked, “Did you decide?”
“I did. I think I’ll have the filet.”
“How do you usually like it prepared?”
She tilted her head, confused why he’d care. “Medium?”
“Good. I’ll order for you. Go to the restroom and take off your panties. Bring them back to me.”
“What?”
“Did you not understand me? I’m fairly certain I was speaking English. Give. Me. Your. Panties. Maybe you’ll understand Spanish. Dame tus bragas.”
“But…”
He cut her off. “Or you can take them off here at the table. Either is fine.” His expression let her know it wasn’t up for debate.
Still, she challenged him. “Why should I?”
Raising his water glass to his lips, he smirked. “Because you want to.”
She stared at him with her mouth slightly open. He set the glass on the table and pulled her closer, his hand at the nape of her neck as he leaned his lips to her ear with a warm smile. To an outsider, it looked like a gesture of affection, but his hand gripped her hair as he growled, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy doing what you’re told, little slut. If I ordered you to suck my cock under the table, you’d do it.”
“No I wouldn’t,” she whispered defiantly, but he could see her chest rising.
“But you’re imagining what that would be like. Sucking my cock anytime I told you to. Spreading your legs when I snap my fingers. Being used like a little fuck doll. And I’m just the man to use you.” Dante discreetly pinched her nipple. “Now go take those fucking panties off. You know they’re soaked again. I can smell how wet you are.”
She let out a little gasp and moved to slide out of the booth when he put his hand on her wrist. “And no one touches that pussy but me. That includes you. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
His cock jumped at her use of the word sir, and he stared at her ass as she sashayed toward the bathroom—he knew the extra sway in her hips was for his benefit. Everything about her story might be bullshit, but she was a natural submissive. He wondered if that’s why she was given this assignment—his bedroom preferences weren’t exactly a secret. If he had to guess, her red hair and hot body had been the initial reason; the fact that she liked being used probably wasn’t as well known. The CIA probably thought that could be faked, which it probably could… to an extent. But her body’s response had been no act.
She definitely was going to enjoy what he was going to do to her later. And so was he. Just thinking about it had him hard. She arrived back at the table and slipped her balled up panties into his palm while refusing to look at his face. He closed his hand into a fist and brought it to his nose to take a theatrical deep breath in, closing his eyes as he did.
“Your ode de pussy is spectacular.”
Her cheeks blushed at his crudeness, but what was she going to do? Blow her assignment and walk out? No, and he was going to take full advantage of that fact as he explored this side of her. He wondered if she had even known this about herself. Was she ashamed to like it so much?
God, he fucking hoped so. Would serve the conniving bitch right.
Then she smiled at him, her green eyes tender, and she attempted to have a normal conversation with him, like they’d had at the bar. She was a fucking pro because he soon found himself laughing and hanging on her every word, wanting to know more about her… the real her. He was enjoying himself so much, he’d even take the bullshit persona if it meant more of this.
And that realization instantly pissed him off. Why couldn’t she be real?
His conflicted feelings only fueled his desire to punish her later. He kept reminding himself that he was onto her, that he was the one playing her. And yet, when she started laughing at her own joke as they waited for the check, he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her gently on the mouth. The soft moan that escaped her lips when she returned the kiss sure as fuck felt real.
Chapter Four
Ruby
Back inside the limo, Dante pulled her onto his lap and traced his hand up her inner thigh. His touch was feather light as his fingers skimmed her bare pussy, then down her other thigh. As he spoke on the phone in Spanish, he did this repeatedly, making her want to push her hips down, so he would touch her.
“What do you mean the shipment’s been postponed?” Pause. “Okay, yeah. So how delayed are we talking?” Pause. “Enrique is not going to like it but okay. I’ll call him first thing in the morning.”
She knew he was talking about Enrique Guzman, El Jefe—the head of the Guzman cartel, his uncle, and her true target. Enrique’s power in Mexico was growing exponentially, along with his brutality and brazenness, and he was becoming a thorn in the CIA’s side with his refusal to play nice with others. Her orders were to infiltrate the cartel by any means necessary and kill Enrique. After studying the Guzman family, Dante Guzman seemed her best way in. Dante was the moneyman of the cartel and would have regular contact with Enrique although recent word on the street was the two men had been butting heads lately about the direction the organization was going. That might alter the original timetable a little.
Dante’s jaw was clenched tight when he disconnected the call, and she tried to quell his bad mood by kissing his neck and playing with the hair above his collar. She genuinely was feeling the need to soothe him.
“Thank you for dinner. I enjoyed your company.” With her lips still on his skin, she murmured, “You are a brilliant man, and I love talking to you.”
That wasn’t bullshit. He was fucking brilliant. Stanford MBA smart, to be exact, and he spoke five languages—both things she knew only from studying his file; he hadn’t shared any of that with her yet. He’d been engaged and interesting in their conversations, but he hadn’t talked a lot about himself personally. Other than her bullshit back story, her dialogue with him had been genuine.
His fingers continued their torment under her skirt.
“Normally I like to stay at a hotel when I’m entertaining, but my favorite place is booked tonight. Would you like to accompany me to my estate? Before you answer, you should know, you won’t be leaving until tomorrow. I mean, you’d be free to actually leave anytime you wanted, but no one on my staff will be available to drive you anywhere.”
“I guess I could get a cab.”
“Maybe. Except all the reputable cab companies stop running at midnight during the week. You’d be rolling the dice on who picked you up.”
“Maybe the hotel would send a shuttle.”
“I suppose there’s that possibility. If you want it.”
Why was she arguing about this? It wasn’t like she was actually going to leave—he was inviting her into his home for fuck’s sake! Getting inside his house tonight put her three weeks ahead of schedule.
Shit, she wished she’d known things were going to go so well. She’d left the bugging equipment in her hotel room, never thinking it a possibility he’d take her home. Of course, she hadn’t planned on having an orgasm with him either, and apparently there was at least another one promised in her future tonight. Granted, she’d been told she’d have to beg for it, but looking at his beautiful face, that wasn’t something she was exactly opposed to. Just the opposite, if she were being honest.
All in the name of the assignment.
He interrupted her thoughts by pinching her nipple with his free hand as he continued the slow tease of her pussy. “So, is that a yes, you’d like to join me? Or should I have the driver drop you at your hotel?”
“I would love to join you, but do you mind if we stop off at my hotel, so I can drop my packages off, get my toothbrush and
a change of clothes for tomorrow?”
“Yes, I do mind.” He began to stroke her slit, which was drenched. “Your packages will be fine in the car, I have plenty of extra toothbrushes, and I’ll send someone out in the morning to get you a new outfit, so you aren’t doing the walk of shame, arriving back at your hotel in what you’re currently wearing.”
“I would only be a minute,” she argued. She really should get the bugging equipment… but his fingers were making it hard to care about that. Which was really unprofessional of her and so not like her.
He plunged a finger in her pussy, and she let out a small moan.
“No.” It was one word, but the tone let her know it was not up for discussion.
She thought about insisting he let her get her things, but then worried he’d just leave her at the hotel—and she definitely didn’t want that. She was getting a chance to check out the interior of his house. Then there was the other thing she was looking forward to—whether or not Dante would make good on his earlier threat about what he was going to do to her.
She hadn’t yet had a chance to analyze just why her body had reacted like he was its rightful owner—and maybe that was for the better. Getting into her own head right now could compromise everything.
They drove a few miles out of town until they reached well lit, ornate iron gates and a twelve- foot high brick fence that seemed to stretch for a mile in either direction. Guards with large guns strapped to their centers stepped outside the guardhouse to briefly inspect the car. The gates opened, and they waved the car through.
She was about to quip about him being paranoid—since he hadn’t exactly shared with her at dinner that he was a high-ranking cartel member, she would be expected to question such high security. But then she caught sight of the grounds and caught her breath.
Every magazine that she’d ever read, every show she’d seen on TV, every movie… nothing prepared her for what she was witnessing in real life. Pictures of the meticulously manicured hedges and grass had not been in his file. And that was only what she could see illuminated by the outdoor lighting. Ruby could only imagine how spectacular it had to be during the day.
“Your grounds are stunning,” she murmured, trying to sound impressed but not too impressed. She was supposed to be an heiress, after all, so meticulous lawns should be second nature to her, but she also wanted to let him know that she appreciated how beautiful they were.
“Thank you. I do take great pride in them.”
The long, winding paved driveway turned into cobblestone, and they pulled up to a Mediterranean-style estate with a large, circular center turret housing an oversized front door and smaller, matching round turrets on each end of the house. A mission tile roof completed the Mediterranean look. It was elegant and tasteful—exactly like the photos in the CIA’s dossier of him.
They got out of the car, and Dante held her elbow as he escorted her inside.
A large chandelier lit a modern entry with warm, rich colors and dark wood. The large arrangement of fresh flowers on the foyer table gave the place a homey, welcoming vibe, and Ruby instantly felt comfortable.
“Wow, this is beautiful, Dante,” she uttered as she looked around at the tall walls adorned with artwork and the high, ornate, dome ceiling.
“Thank you,” he said dismissively like he’d heard it before. “My bedroom is on the second floor, this way,” and he ushered her toward the curved, wooden staircase.
“You’re not going to give me a tour?”
He pulled his neck back and looked at her suspiciously, like she’d made an odd request. “No.”
“Oh.”
It was silly, but out of everything he’d done tonight—that was the one thing that made her feel cheap. And it wasn’t just because she had ulterior motives for wanting to see the house. She felt like the only thing he thought she was worthy of seeing was his bedroom because that’s where he was going to fuck her.
He must have sensed that she felt put out and let out a long sigh. “Forgive me. I don’t usually have visitors in my home without planning and preparation. I’m very particular about who is allowed here and when. I’ll show you around in the morning.”
“Thank you. I guess I’m flattered you invited me in the first place.”
“Yes, well…” Leaving the thought unfinished, Dante tugged on her hand, and they started walking up the stairs. “Besides, if my housekeeper knows I have a guest, she’ll feel compelled to come out and cook something. Poor Rosa is probably already in her nightgown—you wouldn’t want to disturb a sweet old lady’s rest, would you?”
“Well, when you put it that way.” She couldn’t help but giggle.
And just like that, she liked him again and was nervously excited about what he had promised was going to happen.
As it turned out, he hadn’t been bluffing.
He closed the heavy, wooden door to his bedroom and locked it behind them. Then with a low, menacing voice said, “Take off your clothes and get on your fucking knees.”
She walked into the middle of the room, taking in his masculine furniture and décor under the low lighting, while slowly unzipping her dress as he’d instructed. She turned around to look at him, finding him staring at her intently. Ruby let the front drop to her waist and shimmied out of the material.
“Leave the heels on,” he ordered gruffly.
Keeping eye contact with him, she reached around and unclasped her bra, letting the straps fall down her arms as her breasts were exposed. Dante’s nostrils flared while his gaze fell to her bare boobs and stalked toward her, unfastening his belt as he did.
He circled her, looking her up and down, as if he were evaluating her like she was a piece of art he was deciding whether or not he wanted to bid on. She was comfortable with her body—she knew she looked good. Still it was unnerving to have him assess her like he was doing, all without saying a word. Seeing the bulge in his pants helped reassure her though.
Finally, he murmured from her backside, “So perfect,” then wrapped one hand around her waist and another around her throat as he came up behind her. The power he exerted over her was such a turn on. Probably because she wasn’t really afraid that he’d hurt her.
“Are you already wet for me, Ruby?” he whispered in her ear before reaching between her legs to answer his own question. He chuckled deviously when he found her wet and plunged one finger inside her. “Such a good slut.”
She let out a whimper but didn’t dare respond with his hand still around her neck.
He ran his lips down her face as he spoke. “Do you remember what I told you is going to happen next?”
She nodded with another whimper of, “Mmm hmm.”
Dante nipped at her ear. “What? Tell me.”
“You’re going to fuck my face then come all over it.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He pressed into her pussy harder. “Oh, you like that idea. Your pussy just gushed.”
The truth was, she did like it. Playing the part of his submissive was no hardship.
“Then what am I going to do?”
“Fuck me.”
His fingers moved in and out of her. “Not before you clean my cock off with your mouth. How am I going to fuck you?”
“Hard… and deep.”
“Balls deep,” he corrected. “And then what is going to happen?”
“You’re going to come again in my pussy.”
Frankly, she wasn’t sure she was a believer he’d be able to recover very quickly, let alone come again. He was thirty-nine years old, after all, and had already come once tonight.
He moved his fingers from inside her pussy to her clit and tightened his grip around her neck, ever so slightly. “And if you’re a good little slut, then what?”
“I can come too.”
She wanted to come now.
“But only if you…”
“Beg.” She blurted out in a whisper, her orgasm creeping closer.
“Do you think you’ll like begging me, s
weet Ruby?”
“Yes.”
Dante stilled his hand, and she wanted to cry. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir,” she panted, hoping that would spur his hand to move again.
Good,” he said harshly, then gave her clit four fast slaps. “Get on your fucking knees.”
*
She should have known better than to doubt his ability to perform.
After coming all over her face, as promised, he smeared his seed around with his cock then tugged on her hair for her to open her mouth and clean him off.
“That’s it,” he moaned with his eyes closed, his hand on the back of her head.
He pulled out, his smile wistful when he looked down at her and traced his thumb along the corner of her mouth. “So beautiful.” He stared at her cum-covered face for a few beats, as if admiring his handiwork then whispered, “I’ll be right back,” and walked toward what she assumed was his bathroom en suite. She remained on her knees with her eyes lowered, still in her heels until he disappeared, then her eyes quickly darted around the room, making a mental note of where she could plant bugs the next time she was there.
If there was a next time.
Ruby needed to give a porn star performance to ensure that happened, which wasn’t asking much of her. She was soaked, she had been so turned on being used by him.
He came back in the room with a hand towel and gently cleaned her off, studying her face as he did. “So fucking perfect…” He’d said it with affection, but there was something ominous in his eyes as he uttered the words. Then he grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged with one hand while helping her to her feet by her arm with the other. His hand under her chin, he whispered in her ear through gritted teeth, “On the fucking bed,” then walked her to the king size, four poster bed, his hand around her neck, before bending her over with one hard smack to the ass as he did.
Even though he’d already given her the night’s itinerary, she was still wet with anticipation over what was about to transpire. His manhandling of her just intensified her excitement.
The weight of his body was on her back, and he murmured, “I just got tested, and I’m clean. Are you on the pill? Because I want to fuck you raw.”
