Blood Script

by Airicka Phoenix

  “Is this because I asked Nicholas to help me with my zipper? Is that why you’re tormenting me?”

  It was funny she would use that word when it was all that kept repeating in his head.

  “No, I’m doing this because I want to.” He kissed her cheek and followed the contour to her mouth. “The punishment for the other thing is coming later.”

  “I won’t do it again,” she pleaded. “Please ... just ... no more.”

  He nibbled on her bottom lip. “Not yet. Now, keeping going.”

  He made her walk all the way to the dining room like that, with the crotch of her panties rubbing at her clit with every step. He didn’t release her until they approached the doorway. Only then did he let his finger slip from her undergarment.

  “There you two are.” Elise motioned them deeper into the room.

  “We thought you might have gone to get an ice pack,” De Marco chimed from his place at the head of the table.

  James gave a closed mouth chuckle as he led Cora to the seats adjacent from Elise and Sylvester. He pulled out her chair and seated himself before bothering to respond.

  “No need. Cora made it better. She has a very talented mouth.”

  The woman next to him sputtered, choking on a bit of spit and making the situation — in James’s opinion — all the more entertaining.

  “You son of a bitch!” Sylvester started pushing to his feet.

  Elise stopped him.

  James rolled his tongue over his teeth. “She kissed it better.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you think I meant?”

  He smirked at the other man’s fuming sneer.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Crow, you know that?” Sylvester hissed, dropping back into his seat.

  “Okay, I think we should begin,” Elise interjected.

  The meal was beef cheeks in red wine on mashed potatoes, and asparagus. It was delicious, just juicy enough, salty enough to tempt James to ask for seconds. But the buzz of his phone had him excusing himself from the table and moving into the hallway.

  “Yeah?”

  “It checks out.” Nicholas’s voice was barely audible over the scream of wind and ocean. “Roman Endrizzi was skimming money out of clan funds for almost six year. Not much. Hundred bucks here and there. Nothing that might draw attention, but the sum total was well over a cool million.”

  James scratched his jaw. “Who blew the whistle?”

  “My sources say someone inside the camp. That’s all I got.”

  James didn’t believe it. None of it. The evidence was too glaring for it to be a mere coincidence. Roman Endrizzi was an oily weasel, but he’d been loyal. He was too infatuated with De Marco to betray him. Plus, the timing was off.

  “Keep checking.” He glanced towards the doorway leading into the dining room. “We’re almost done here.”

  “There’s something else.” Nicholas stopped him before James could hang up. “Stevens caught a couple of guys snooping around the docks about an hour ago. Said they were lost, but they looked too secret agent for him to buy it.”

  “Bishop?”

  “I’d put money on it.”

  So would James.

  “I’m taking Cora back to her apartment tonight. Keep the men on lookout. You see anything, you call me immediately.”

  He killed the call and made his way back inside.

  Cora looked up when he approached, a smile on her face. “Okay?”

  He nodded as he reclaimed his seat. “Business.”

  Her smile brightened. “Mom was just telling us stories about her reception.”

  He sat patiently and listened to every detail of Elise’s wedding to De Marco, every color choice, every china pattern disaster, every moment of her excitement as she relived it for the table with only half a mind on what she was actually saying.

  The other half drifted between his ship and keeping Cora as far away from it as possible until he could confirm Bishop hadn’t found it, hadn’t sent his men.

  But he couldn’t keep her at her apartment forever either. Bishop knew where it was.

  He couldn’t leave her with De Marco.

  He wouldn’t.

  The bastard could eat shit if he thought he’d ever get Cora back.

  But it was only a matter of time before Bishop found her.

  “James?”

  Slender fingers slipped over the corded muscles of his thigh, scattering his thoughts as all the blood rushed from his skull to fill his cock with just a lazy stroke. Eyes lost in their focus blinked. They swung to the woman seated next to him, grinning that seductive, siren grin. She cupped him, balls and cock, and squeezed. It took all his efforts not to let his eyes cross.

  He managed a weak, “Yes, sweetheart?” that sounded raspy even to his own ears.

  “I asked if you wanted a tour.”

  She gave him a languid stroke in emphasis.

  He would have gone any fucking place in the world she wanted him to go if she kept that up. But he was more curious to see what the imp thought she was doing. What exactly her plan was, because he wasn’t done playing with her. If she thought she could seduce him into changing his mind, she had another thing coming.

  “I’d love one.”

  He got to his feet and helped Cora to hers. He pushed both their chairs in before taking her hand and letting her guide them from the room.

  “Where are you taking me, witch?”

  “I’m going to seduce you.”

  James bit back a grin. “Is that right?”

  “Yup, and you’ll be the one to beg me for it.”

  Intrigued, he didn’t stop her as they crossed through corridors to the opposite end of the building where the wood was just a bit darker, the paintings just a little creepier.

  She took him to a set of doors and pushed him through. They were shut behind them.

  The office was a puddle of shadows restrained by the single lamp lit on a mahogany desk. It barely illuminated the surrounding area, but he could make out bookcases, file cabinets, and a bar deep in the folds of shadows.

  But none of those mattered.

  He faced the woman standing behind him, cloaked in a satin sheet of darkness that irradiated the gleam in her eyes.

  She stepped around him, around the circle of light he stood in, keeping to the edges. Always just out of sight.

  “You’ve been holding all the cards today, Mr. Crow,” she purred. “I’m done playing by your rules.” Something rustled, the distinct whisper of fabric hitting the ground. “If you’re not going to fuck me, then I’m going to fuck you.”

  One foot broke into the circle. Light expanded over a slender limb.

  Climbing.

  Climbing.

  Taut, smooth skin.

  Endless miles.

  Unhindered.

  Unclothed.

  Beautifully, undeniably naked, she stood before him, hands on her hips, lips turned up in a smirk that could tempt a saint to sin.

  “Objections?”

  “Am I allowed objections?”

  Her answer was the single step she took to him and the hands she twisted into his lapel. His blazer was torn off him. His shirt followed. The speed in which she undressed him was astounding.

  It was terrifying.

  It was erotic as fuck.

  “No.” Her eyes sparked. “I’m in charge now, Captain.”

  He let himself get hauled to the desk.

  She shoved him down, catching him off guard and sending him sprawling across the cold surface. In the same impressive motion, she rose over him, a siren claiming a rock.

  Her legs bracketed his.

  Her knees hugged his ribs.

  She braced her hands on his chest and met his gaze through a wild tangle of curls that could have been porn worthy.

  She grinned at him and his cock swelled to sizes no man should ever face. The expression she gave him heated his blood to a concerning swelter.

  “You look good on your back, Captain,” she teased with a s
eductive purr that made his eyes cross.

  He made a grunting sound that would have mortified him any other time, but Cora had begun to wiggle her butt down his thighs, giving an extra little grind over his crotch before sliding between his knees until she was kneeling over him, face hovering over the bulge tenting the front of his trousers.

  Her lashes lifted and he was caught in the dark shimmer of her eyes.

  “May I?”

  “Sweetheart...” was all he could choke out before his brain dissolved to soup in his skull with first brush of her lips.

  The hot whisper of her breath through the fabric of his pants sent his eyeballs rolling back. His fingers curled into the edges on either side of him.

  She abandoned his pain to stamp a kiss to his navel. James hissed as though she’d dropped a lit match against his skin.

  More kisses littered his abdomen, marking each individual muscle in a path leading the wrong way from where he needed her.

  Her hair slipped over her shoulders and landed in coils over his chest, his shoulders, and tickled his jaw. The scent of peaches rushed over him and he knew he would never be able to smell that fruit again without remembering this moment.

  At his nipple, she stole a peek at him before lowering her lips and kissing the flat circle. She traced a tongue around the curves, leaving a damp trail that made him shiver when the chill in the room followed the teasing sweep.

  James had never been one for having his nipple played with, but the cool sensation actually felt good. The way it made his stomach dip and his cock twitch made his skin tingle.

  She didn’t stay there long. That was the extent of her attention and it was the perfect amount to get him that much closer.

  The kisses turned into licks, little flicks of her tongue winding along the dips and grooves of his stomach muscles to where skin ended and his pants began.

  Please, he wanted to beg, was about to beg, started to when her fingers hooked into fabric.

  She tugged the material over his hips and down his thighs. The waistband caught the head of his erection, and he automatically winced. He braced himself for the smack of his helpless appendage slapping his pelvis, but she reached in to gently release him, a kindness he was eternally grateful for.

  His pants were tugged the rest of the way to his ankles. He kicked out of them and his shoes, and lay before her as naked as she was.

  She paused long enough to sweep her hair over one shoulder. The determination on her face euphoric.

  She took him in hand. Her long, capable fingers guided him up to parted lips.

  She sucked the head, light little nips of someone enjoying an ice cream cone. She swiped the head with her tongue gathering the clear fluid expelling from the crown.

  James groaned. That dissolved into a strangled gasp with the fluid descent of her mouth taking him deep into the hot cave of her throat.

  All the way to the base.

  “Fuck me!”

  His whimper was met with her withdrawal. The flat of her tongue dragged up his shaft to the head.

  “Fuck ... Cora...”

  She ignored him, too focused on adjusting her jaw for another dive.

  She stayed down longer, her lips fastened around the very base of his penis. Her tongue stroked what she could reach, then coiled around him as she pulled back.

  An escaped strand of hair was forced behind an ear carelessly. She licked her lips, took a deep breath, and went back in.

  Quick, shallow bobs accompanied by harder sucks at the crown. She worked the shaft with her fist in clean, firm pumps.

  Then, just when he was sure he couldn’t take anymore, she plunged him to the back of her throat. The transition was so abrupt, he barely had time to catch his breath when she was already retracting.

  James groaned.

  His eyes squeezed tight as the world thrummed around him. His heart raced, a greedy anticipation that had his hips jerking upwards.

  She didn’t seem to mind when he struck the back of her esophagus. She kept him there, lips firm as he drove into her mouth, again and again. She let him thread his fingers into her hair and hold her in place while he fucked her mouth.

  “God, baby ... so ... fucking ... good...”

  She swallowed. The muscles of her throat flexed, her cheeks hollowed, her nostrils flared with the effort ... and James nearly lost his fucking mind.

  “Stop. Christ, Cora, enough.”

  Breathing hard, she pulled back. Her hand went up to wipe her mouth and chin.

  James lay there a moment, willing back the urge to come all over his abdomen like some hormonal teenager at prom.

  “Get my wallet from my pants.”

  He watched and waited as she scrambled off him, off the desk and disappeared from sight. She sprung back up a second later, wallet in hand.

  He took it and removed the condom from one of the compartments. The leather case was tossed carelessly back to the floor. He rolled himself in rubber and motioned her back to him.

  “All right, sweetheart.” He sat up. “Get on.”

  Her beautiful eyes darkened, mirroring the parting of her lips and the flare of heat that pinkened her cheeks.

  “Yes sir!”

  She returned to her place straddling him. She squeaked when he reached to cup the back of her head and pulled her in.

  She moved with him when he tugged her forward. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, cool strips that sent a wave of tingles rippling down his spine. She met him halfway with an urgency that trumped rationality. Scorching desire seared with the first melding of their mouths. It erupted in a shower of sparks that burned flesh. One of them cried out. Maybe her, because it was his tongue that swooped in to conquer the lingering vibrations of the sound.

  Bodies collided, collapsing back against hard wood. Limbs intertwined. Flesh rubbed. Sexes aligned.

  One buck of his hips and he was inside her, buried in all her glorious heat.

  Cora cursed.

  Her back arched.

  Her head fell back.

  James took full advantage of it all, biting, nibbling, licking, sucking every inch of her he could reach. He could have stayed in that moment forever, surrounded by her and the sweet symphony of her passion filling the room. He would have happily lost himself in it ... had the door not clicked.

  It was subtle, barely audible over Cora’s moans, but it immediately had his head turning, his arms tightening.

  Sylvester stuck his head in. He scanned the room, and froze on the threshold.

  James said nothing.

  He probably should have.

  He probably should have been furious.

  But the slow dawning of realization across the other man’s face, the rising horror, that satisfying moment when it all fell into place was just too good to pass up.

  “Come for me, sweetheart,” he murmured into Cora’s ear, his attention never leaving the other figure.

  She did with a delicious cry of his name.

  Sylvester was gone by the time Cora came down to earth, by the time she was a limp mess in his arms. The door was shut as if he’d never been there, but James knew better.

  “Give me a second—”

  He shook his head. “I’m good.”

  Her head came up off his shoulder. “Your cock’s still hard.”

  He smirked. “It’s always hard. but I can wait until we get to a bed.”

  What he didn’t tell her was the slim possibility Sylvester was on his way to tell De Marco, and James wasn’t in the mood to be shot at.

  He helped Cora off the desk. He joined her. The condom was tossed into the wastebasket.

  Let the bastard find it, James thought as he pulled his clothes on.

  Cora was already dressed and waiting by the door for him when he finished.

  “Did you just fuck me on your father’s desk?”

  Her grin, her dark, seductive, predatory gleam of pure, unadulterated sexual triumph made his groin twinge. “I thought you might enjoy tha
t.”

  He had.

  De Marco may have disagreed, but fucking the man’s beloved and cherished daughter in the place he considered his place of sanctuary per her request had a thrill to it, a whisper of haughty satisfaction that was undeniable.

  The fact that they had been caught was a minor gray area. One he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about.

  On the one hand, eradicating the idea that Cora was being forced from the other man’s mind was satisfying, albeit not nearly as satisfying as the knowledge that she wanted James willingly and of her own volition, but nonetheless satisfying.

  On the other hand, he severely disliked anyone seeing Cora naked, never mind in a position of such intense vulnerability. Uncle or not, her body was James’s and only his.

  In all ways.

  “You don’t look like a man who just did the dirty on your enemy’s desk,” Cora teased.

  James tilted his head and caught her out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe I’m just relishing in it.”

  “Or, maybe,” she took his wrist and stopped him. “you should have let me make you come.” She emphasized by stroking the still hard ridge of his erection through the soft material of his trousers. Her smile widened a fraction. “There’s still time.”

  James caught her wrist and used it to jerk her into his chest. “For a woman who threatened to kill me if I manhandled her, you’re sure handsy, Ms. Harris.”

  Cora laughed, a deep, breathtaking cackle that sent her head back on her neck. “For a man who spent the entire day torturing the shit out of me, you’re sure adamant not to enjoy it.”

  He tightened his hold. “Maybe I’m secretly a masochist and enjoy the pain.”

  “Are you?”

  James smirked. “No, I like causing it.” He bit her lip to prove it. “Now, hands to yourself or I’ll restrain them.”

  One eyebrow lifted. “Says the man who was fondling my asshole in front of my parents.”

  It was James’s turn to burst out laughing. The unexpected explosion of sound startled both of them. It ran through the hallway, intertwining with the sprinkling of hers.

  “There you two are.” Elise appeared at the end of the corridor.

  James quickly composed himself.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” she went on, peeking from one to the other with an unmasked interest that made the back of his neck prickle. It almost made him want to check his zipper. “We were about to have drinks in the parlor.”