“More, Jag. I need you inside me,” I whispered against his lips, feeling empty and desperate to be fucked.
Jag rocked his hips, his hard length sliding back and forth through the wet heat. I tried to angle my pelvis so his cock would slip inside, but the bastard knew what I was trying to do and continued to tease me, pulling back whenever I got him where I wanted him. Jag used just enough friction to keep me on the edge, while leaving me unfilled and wanting. Jag dropped his head and licked and sucked his way down my neck, stopping to lave his tongue over the angry red bite mark he made when he fucked me in the garage today. Or was it yesterday?
“It’s so fucking hot to see my mark on you.” Jag’s voice was low and husky and the sound of it sent tremors directly to my aching core.
“Jag…” I was writhing on the bed in desperation. “I need you inside me. I need—”
He sucked a peaked nipple into his mouth and my eyes rolled back in my head. “I want to taste all of you, doll.” Jag brushed his nose over the sensitive nub before biting down.
“Fuck!” My hips attempted to shoot off the bed again, but Jag’s lower body pinned me down. I wailed in frustration, unable to move enough to rub against him where I needed it most. “God, Jag… just…oh!” He switched to the other breast and sucked that bud into his hot mouth, licking and biting until I couldn’t say anything more than a string of garbled nonsense. After an eternity of torturous pleasure, Jag released the swollen flesh and returned to hover over me, face-to-face, eye-to-eye.
“You’re so goddamn sexy, Miri. I want to suck and lick every inch of you. Rub my body all over yours until you’re covered in my scent. Mark your skin so every other man knows you belong to me. Fuck you so hard, you feel my cock for days and never forget that you’re mine.”
I stared up at this beautiful man, speechless. His? Was I his? One fuck in a garage didn’t make me his anything. But the care he’d freely given—a home, a bed, clothes, drugs, food, protection… Those made my response easy.
“I want that. To be yours.”
“Fuck, doll.”
His mouth crashed down on mine. The tenderness was gone, replaced by voracious hunger. Jag dominated my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue in roughly, taking what he wanted, what he needed, and I loved every second of it. Having this gorgeous, powerful, dangerous man so desperate to have me turned me on like nothing else. I wiggled beneath him and lifted one leg to wrap around his narrow waist. Jag gasped when the head of his cock slipped into my entrance. He ripped his mouth away from mine and threw his head back. The tendons in his neck stood out as he strained from the effort it took to stop. Jag ground his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Christ, Miri. Let me get a condom.” He opened his eyes and met mine.
“Your man,” I panted, still attempting to move and force in more of his cock. “He took blood from me to check… because of the drug use. He said I didn’t have anything.”
“Yeah, I told him to do it. I was worried about you,” Jag whispered, his pupils dilating. “I don’t have anything here, but—”
“I trust you. I want this.” I shifted my hips again and took in another inch or two of Jag’s cock. “Want to feel all of you.”
“Holy…” Jag’s head dropped next to mine, his hot breath against my neck. “I’ve never fucked anyone without a condom, Miri. I can’t… It’s…Ohgod. It feels too fucking good.”
“Please, Jag. I-I need this. I need you.”
I had absolutely no clue why I needed Jag to take me bare, but I did… desperately. Maybe because it would mean he completely owned me. A part of him would be inside me when he came. I wanted that, I needed it, I craved it more than any hit of H I ever had.
“Jesus Christ, you’re killing me.” Jag’s voice was pained, but despite his brain telling him to stop, his body began to move. He pulled his hips back and slid forward in a long, slow stroke. “So goddamn good, Miri.” Jag repeated the move, retreating and thrusting in even slower this time. Back and forth, in and out, agony and ecstasy. My body hummed with pleasure, nerve endings primed and ready to fire at any second. But Jag never changed his pace, never fucked me hard enough or fast enough to bring me past the intense, torturous edge I clung to.
“More.” I dug my heels into his firm ass and clawed at his back, but he refused to stop the sweet agony.
“I don’t ever want this to end, doll. So fucking good… so hot and tight.” He hissed and bared his teeth. “It’s like your pussy was made to fit my cock.” His words sent a ripple of pleasure down my spine and I clenched hard around his cock. Jag’s entire body jerked above me. “Goddammit! Fuck, Miri.”
He pushed to his knees, threw my legs over his shoulders, and wrapped his hands around my thighs, eyes half-closed, a deep midnight color, burning from beneath thick black lashes. Firm hands held me in place as Jag punched his hips forward. I cried out from the sheer force and the relief of finally getting fucked harder.
“That what you want?” Jag held perfectly still until I answered.
“Yes! Ungh, please… More!”
Jag snapped his hips again, this time hard enough that it took my breath away and I slid up the bed. Afraid of smashing my head, I braced my hands on the headboard and nodded. Jag’s lip curled in a feral snarl and finally, he let loose. Jag rammed into me hard and fast. My sharp cries morphed into a single long, incoherent moan as he pounded me relentlessly, taking me like a rutting beast in the throes of heat. I couldn’t take my eyes off Jag as he moved. He was beautiful. His abs rippled with each undulation of his hips. Sweat shone off his glorious chest and his shoulders and biceps bulged and flexed as he held on to my thighs. His body was a work of art.
But it was Jag’s facial expressions that had me mesmerized. Jag in the throes of passion—wild, uninhibited, and taking exactly what he wanted—was absolutely stunning. His dark hair was damp and flopped down over his eyes, his nostrils flared and his lips were parted while he hissed various curses and grunts.
Jag released my legs and leaned forward, resting his full weight on me. He reached up and tugged my hands off the headboard. Jag threaded his fingers with mine on the pillow above my head. Our eyes met and he held the contact, mesmerizing me with a look of absolute wonder in his gaze. A trickle of sweat fell from his chin to land on my upper lip. Before I could catch it with my tongue, Jag dove down, licked the drop, and gave me a deep kiss, melding our mouths together.
When he began moving again, he kept his eyes locked on mine. Jag’s expression was so intense it sent a chill down the back of my neck. He looked at me as if he were in shock and awe. I wasn’t sure if it made me uncomfortable or made me feel like the most precious thing in the world. Fingers entwined, Jag rocked back and forth above me, his pelvic bone rubbing my clit as his cock went as deep as possible, bottoming out with each thrust. My muscles tightened and a ripple of heat spread out from my core.
“God, Miri. I’m fixin’ to fucking blow.” Jag’s eyes rolled back in his head and he picked up the pace. That rumbling Texas drawl went straight to my groin and my body detonated around him. I screamed from the overwhelming force of my orgasm, shuddering and clenching from head to toe. “Holy fuck! Oh god… Shit, Miri.” Jag’s rhythm faltered. His hands gripped mine almost painfully and he pushed in one last time. Jag threw his head back and roared as he emptied his thick release. I felt pulse after pulse of his hot cum flooding my insides.
Suddenly, the room was quiet save for our heavy breathing. Jag let go of my hands and rolled onto his back next to me. I swallowed and licked my lips, my throat dry from shouting. Jag’s eyes were closed, his chest moving up and down as he recovered. Aftershocks of pleasure zipped across my skin, leaving my body floaty and tingling.
Exhausted, sleep began to wash over me and my eyes became heavy. If I could, I’d spend all night staring at Jag’s stunning face and body. As I drifted off, I wondered if he’d be here in the morning or if I’d just made a huge mistake. Before I could give it any further thought,
sleep claimed my consciousness, just like the man in my bed claimed my heart.
Boss
Reluctantly, I dragged my ass out of bed to use the bathroom. When I returned to the bedroom, I watched Miri sleep, her face relaxed, her naked body half tangled in the sheet. God, she was so fucking gorgeous it hurt.. I shouldn’t be here. Getting involved with Miri with a war looming and her living in my house… fuck, it was such a bad idea. I ran a hand down my face and exhaled. I should leave. Go back to my room and sleep the same way I always do, alone. Miri stirred and a soft sigh floated from her pink lips. Despite knowing it was the worst possible choice for her, I climbed back into bed with Miri, and pulled her into my arms.
The next thing I knew, I blinked and the gray light of dawn slanted through the window. It took a minute to realized my phone was vibrating from the pocket of my jeans on the floor. Exhausted, my first thought was to ignore it, but I couldn’t. My men never bothered me without a good reason, especially this early in the day. With the heels of my hands, I rubbed my tired eyes, sat up, snagging my jeans to pull the phone out and check the text. It was from Sarge, my head of security.
SOS
The three letters on the screen kicked my pulse up into high gear and had me fully awake and moving in a flash. As quietly as possible, I yanked on last night’s clothes and hurried down the stairs, barefoot and smelling like sex and Miri. Sarge was waiting by the door to my study, hands behind his back, chest out. He looked as tired as I felt, but the man took the time to put on his suit and presented himself perfectly. I was proud of Sarge for understanding the level of respect I demanded from my employees. A stab of guilt hit me when I realized didn’t stop to dress in my own suit before coming downstairs. Fuck it. With an SOS, speed was more important than how I looked.
I unlocked the thick door and motioned for Sarge to follow.
“Milo is on his way, Boss.”
I nodded and sat behind my desk.
“We’ll wait for him then. Sit.” Sarge lowered himself into one of the dark leather chairs. “Drink?” I used my chin to point toward the bar. Yeah, it was early morning, but I had a feeling whatever was going down might require a bit of alcohol.
“No, Boss.”
I tipped my head in acknowledgement. Five minutes later, I buzzed Milo into the study. He didn’t look nearly as put together as Sarge. Still wearing the same suit from last night, my lieutenant’s hair was a mess, his tie crooked, and his mouth red and swollen and turned down in the corners.
“I hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice and I smirked at Milo, knowing from the smears of lipstick on his face exactly what we’d interrupted.
“Shit, Boss. My nuts are fucking killing me. Goddamn blue balls.” Milo frowned. “You could have at least waited till I finished.” Milo had no problem making himself a drink before dropping into the chair next to Sarge.
“All right, what do you have?” I turned my attention to my head of security.
“After your meeting with El Cuchillo, George and Three followed his car like you asked.”
“And?”
“He proceeded to another club, this one in San Antonio.”
That in itself wasn’t surprising. San Antonio was his territory, after all.
Milo huffed. “What’s your goddamn point, Sarge?” I shot Milo a dark look warning him to shut the fuck up. I didn’t give a flying fuck if he was in the middle of the best goddamn blowjob of his life. He needed to stop being cranky and suck it up. When he got a call, his job was to show up and do whatever the fuck he was told. I paid plenty for him to be at my beck and call. He could bust a nut later.
Sarge visibly bristled at Milo, but continued. “He had another meeting. With Brick.”
“What the fuck?” Milo stood up, his face suddenly a deep shade of crimson. His eyes darted to mine, the anger in them palpable. “That fucking double-crossing douchebag. I told you we couldn’t trust his skinny ass.”
“Sit down.” On the outside, I appeared calm, but inside, I was as furious as Milo. El Cuchillo left my meeting to go directly to another. This one with the head of heroin distribution in Houston. Little fucking shit. Shouting, however, didn’t do anything to change the new development.
Milo snarled and fell back into his chair, but his shoulders were pulled up to his ears and his fists balled in his lap. My lieutenant was ready to blow. His reaction was exactly why he was so useful to my organization. Violent. Reactive. Ruthless.
I turned back to Sarge. “Did our men hear anything that was discussed?”
“No, Boss. The club was too open for them to get close and not get made by Brick or El Cuchillo.”
I took a moment to think, steepling my fingers in front of my mouth before unfolding my hands and reclining in my chair. “So either he’s playing us or Brick, or possibly both of us.”
“Maybe he’s trying to get us to fight each other so he doesn’t have to get his hands dirty?” Milo offered.
Fear prickled the back of my neck. “We’re in between Los Guerreros territory and Brick’s. We couldn’t stay uninvolved if El Cuchillo decided to go to war with Houston. It’s very possible he’s setting us up to fight Brick for him, but it’s more likely he’s offering the same deal to both of us and waiting to see who takes him up on it. Then he’ll combine forces and take out the third.”
“We didn’t accept his terms, Boss,” Milo reminded me, a deep scowl on his face.
“No, we didn’t. That doesn’t mean Brick will either.”
“Brick will,” Milo said confidently.
“What did El Cuchillo offer?” Sarge’s eyes bounced back and forth between a fuming Milo and me.
Half the reason Milo was so worked up was because he believed it was a mistake to pass on El Cuchillo’s business venture. Milo thought branching out our operation from heroin was a great idea. My lieutenant had no clue I’d rather die before I ever got involved with what El Cuchillo was offering. Milo blamed my refusal on Miri, thinking she made me too weak and emotional to accept the new business arrangement. He didn’t come right out and say it—he knew I’d kill him if he did—but Milo had dropped enough hints since Miri showed up for me to know exactly how he felt about her and how he perceived her supposed influence over me.
Breathing deep, I tamped down my anger for the second time tonight. Earlier, sitting in a loud, crowded club, it was easier to keep my face neutral as the head of the heroin cartel in San Antonio spewed off his newest venture like he reinvented the goddamn wheel. He expected me to what? Was I supposed to clap with joy and praise the prick for including me in his disgusting endeavor? Fuck him.
I swallowed back the rising bile before answering Sarge. “He’s going to deal in women.”
Sarge’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “Women? You mean whores, right?”
“No.” I gripped the arms of my chair until my fingers ached. “Not whores. Cuchillo is going to…” I paused to choke back a scream. “…Traffic kidnapped women and girls to sell into sexual slavery.” I spoke through clenched teeth as I struggled to control my knee-jerk reaction to flip out my knives and fucking kill someone.
“Holy shit.” Sarge paled.
“What?” Milo turned to Sarge, scowling. “It’s a huge fucking moneymaker. There’s a big market for girls, especially the young ones.”
“Milo, shut the fuck up right now.” My fingers itched to pull out my knife and slice him from sternum to groin before remembering I wasn’t wearing any of my blades. Damn, next time, SOS or not, I’ll get dressed properly. “I will not ever sell human beings. Don’t speak of it in front of me again.”
Milo didn’t know about Rose. No one knew, but it didn’t fucking matter. I didn’t have to explain myself to him or anyone and I wasn’t budging on that point. Milo was clearly displeased, his face red, the muscles in his neck tight.
I turned back to Sarge, ignoring Milo’s ire. “Keep men on him at all times. Make sure they’re careful. El Cuchillo might act like
a fucking pinheaded idiot, but he’s not as stupid as he seems. If he catches our men, he’ll have them killed, and it won’t be quick or painless.”
Sarge nodded and stood. “I’ll keep you updated, Boss.”
“Thanks.” I buzzed the door open and Sarge slipped out of the study.
“What now, Boss?”
I ran a hand through my hair, vacillating between complete exhaustion and raging fury. “Now, we prepare for war.”
Miri
Done with my project, I put away the tools and washed my hands in the garage sink. Just as I feared, despite desperately wanting to believe Jag was different, I woke to an empty bed. Jag was gone. He wasn’t anywhere in the house, either. Not knowing what else to do, I got dressed and did some maintenance on the Ducati.
The garage I worked for when I lived with Cat wasn’t in the best area of the city, so this was my first time doing maintenance on a motorcycle as flashy or expensive as a Ducati. My lack of experience on the sleek bike slowed me down and it took a little longer than usual to finish the work, but by the time I was done, I had it all figured out and was confident I could handle any bike out there.
Which brought me to my newest concern. I needed a purpose, a life, something of my own. As nice as it was, I needed a job. I couldn’t live here forever, sponging off of Jag. I’d already let myself get way too close to him. It was better to separate myself from him, get back on my own two feet as soon as possible, and get out of here before I fell hard for a man incapable of returning my feelings. The biggest hurdle to cutting loose was the heroin. I was still getting two doses a day from one of Jag’s rotating cast of Men in Black. Yet, I swore I felt healthier than I had in months. I was gaining weight, getting stronger, my head was clear and my senses sharp.
Junkie (Broken Doll #1) Page 16
