“We need to renegotiate.” He meant it as a question, but there wasn’t one. Regardless of what she chose, they needed better boundaries. Or at least to acknowledge that they were changing. That they couldn’t continue as they’d begun.
She nodded and reached for the front of his waterlogged shirt.
“Tomorrow,” she said and began to unbutton the white discs.
Mathieu stood very still, catching the faint scent of her shampoo. Her hot little hands grazed his chest and he had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
What about tonight?
He wasn’t so sure he could stand here and play the role of gentleman with her stripping him of his shirt. He’d lain next to her last night without acting on what he wanted to do. Another night of that would break him.
She parted his shirt and peeled the wet fabric off his shoulders. Cool air skated over his skin, teasing goose bumps into marching down his arms and chest.
Lisette backed away, his shirt clutched in her hands, her gaze traveling down his body. Her cheeks were slightly pink, but there was no other indication of her intentions or what she thought.
Without a word, she pivoted and stepped into the bathroom. He followed, bracing his arms on the doorway and watched her wring the water out of his shirt before spreading it over the towel rack. She pulled the turban towel off her head and tossed it over the shower curtain before turning once more to him.
She had her lower lip pinched between her teeth, gaze on his chest. He glanced down. Besides the gris-gris he never took off, all he wore were jeans and boots.
Lisette reached out and touched the gris-gris with the tips of her fingers.
“What’s in it?”
She wanted to talk about that? Now?
He gripped the doorframe harder and focused on the color of her eyes. The way the greens went from dark to light, with little shoots of gold. “A bullet that was dug out of my calf my first year on patrol, and other than that, I don’t know. I decided a long time ago I’m better off not knowing what exactly that woman is up to.”
“Oh.” She dropped her hand.
“Anything else on your mind?” He leaned toward her, but didn’t allow himself to touch her.
Her gaze flicked to his face. “Yup.”
“What might that be?”
“Less talking, if you don’t mind.” Her cheeks sunk in and the color spread. He doubted it was embarrassment. Lisette had nothing to be ashamed of there. No, if he read her right, she was aroused.
He chuckled. Lisette had spunk, and while she might be a sexual submissive who liked to care for others, she was also a woman who knew what she wanted. The way she was staring at him telegraphed exactly what that desire was. But he needed words. Her permission. Who they were, what they did, there could be no moments of questionable consent. Not after he’d broken her trust.
“I don’t mind, but I do need to know what exactly you’re negotiating here.” He dipped his head until their faces were not even an inch apart.
Lisette flattened her palm against his chest and closed the distance between their bodies, pressing against him. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so he felt the hard tips of her breasts through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. She tipped her chin up and her gaze flicked between his eyes and mouth. He drove his fingernails into the wood of the doorway in an effort to keep his hands to himself.
“Sex.” The one word falling from her mouth worked like a reset button. The whole day, everything screwed up in his life, seemed to be set to rights again.
“And?” Their lips were so close now he could feel her breath.
“And what?”
“I need to be real clear what the boundaries are, bebelle.” He wouldn’t screw up with her again.
One side of her mouth hitched up. Her hands roved over his chest, touching him, tracing the old scar on his shoulders, the line of his pectoral muscles. “It doesn’t have to be that complicated. Sex, full penetration, and I’m pretty sure the rest remains the same.”
His balls ached just listening to those words tumble out of her mouth. He rocked forward, pressing closer against her.
“Is that it?” Mathieu needed to be sure. Needed to know.
“For tonight? Yes. Tomorrow we can do your renegotiations.”
His mind was awash of all of the things he’d imagined doing to her. The ways he wanted to have her. His lust threatened to override his control.
No, he needed to do this right.
Mathieu surged through the doorway, wrapping his arms around Lisette and carrying her into the bedroom on his left. Gator rushed through the other door and Mathieu ran into the dog, muttering and tripping. Gator yelped and scampered out of his way. Lisette laughed and he couldn’t help it, he laughed with her and tossed her onto the bed.
So much for playing it cool.
“Come on, Gator.” He slapped his cold, wet thigh and escorted the dog into the living room where he squatted down and gave the pit bull a quick scratch. “Try to not dig through the door when she screams, okay?”
Gator’s tongue lolled out and his ears flattened against his skull. He was the sweetest dog Mathieu had ever encountered, so it broke his heart a little to see the way Gator sat forlornly outside the door.
Lisette reclined on the bed, her head propped up on her hand, watching him.
He needed control. This had to slow down or he’d push them too far. For as daring as Lisette was, she was still coming back from the evil that had been done to her. He wouldn’t destroy that. Not with his eagerness.
“Strip,” he ordered while shutting the bathroom door.
Lisette scrambled off the bed, whisking her clothes off so fast he couldn’t even enjoy the reveal of skin. She stood in front of him, completely naked. For a moment, he stood there and admired her. Sure he’d seen her naked, but it was different.
Her mostly-dry hair fell over her shoulders, but wasn’t long enough to hide her breasts. She’d grown into a woman, her body curving and maturing into this beautiful siren.
“Are you just going to stare?” Her voice was low, the husky tones stroking over his senses.
“If I feel like it.” Control. He needed to get a grip, except he was slipping more with every second that went by.
Lisette prowled the few steps to him, splaying her hands over his chest and pressing herself against him. She tipped her head back, lips parted, eyes slightly dilated.
“Christ,” he muttered.
She tested him, his ability to master himself. Without that, how could he be the Dominant she needed?
“Mathieu.” She cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “I need you.”
Had she heard his thoughts? He stared at her a moment. His arms trembled from how tight his hands were clenched.
If he went too far, he had to trust that she’d tell him to stop. Right now she was giving him a green light. It was his doubts and second-guessing that had them stalled.
He cupped her mound and her heat soaked into his skin. She spread her legs farther for him. He curled his fingers into her pussy.
“Fuck.” He dropped his head forward, almost to her shoulder. “You’re so wet.”
“Yeah. Oh.” She moaned and dug her nails into his chest, her mouth next to his ear.
Mathieu thrust into her, twisting his fingers as he penetrated her body, flicking his thumb over her clit. She didn’t hold back, though her mindless noises of pleasure were quiet, for his ears alone. Her nails scored his flesh, leaving her mark on him. He pumped in and out of her. Her hips worked in a counter-rhythm.
Lisette was beautiful, completely without inhibitions.
He walked her backward, until the bed spread out behind her. In a swift motion, he grabbed her around the waist and tossed her back onto the mattress, pushing her down and her legs apart. Determination mixed with lust spurred him on.
This would be good for her. He thrust two fingers into her pussy while sh
e panted, staring at him with eyes gone nearly black. He added a third finger and her jaw dropped on a long moan. He was a big man. Even when they’d first dated, he’d needed to prime her body for sex. It just made it better, pushing her to higher highs, drawing her pleasure out.
He lowered his head to her mound and a shudder rippled through her body. Anticipation was a sweet knife-edge of misery. He curled his fingers within her channel, rubbing her hidden depths. Her thighs clenched around his shoulders.
How close was she? He couldn’t read her body anymore. He didn’t know when one more touch would send her over the edge, or if she was lost in the enjoyment of it.
“Oh, Mat…”
He loved hearing her moan his name.
Mathieu licked her clit and her spine bowed up off the bed. He pumped her pussy, continuing to twist his hand. She clutched at the comforter, her face lost to him though he could enjoy the jiggle of her breasts as she undulated with him. Her hips began to move, finding just the perfect pace.
He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.
Lisette grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her chest.
He pumped again, curled his fingers and her channel spasmed around him, flooding with fresh arousal. She drew one leg up, bowing her spine as he continued to tease her sensitive nub. Her muffled scream of release startled a chuckle out of him. He stroked her through the climax, intoxicated by the way her body hugged his fingers, how her legs tensed and relaxed, only to jump again as another tremor snaked through her.
She whimpered and pushed at his head. He relented, though he was tempted to push her, drive her to the edge over and over again. The only problem was that he might not be able to handle it.
Mathieu straightened, withdrawing his hand from her heat while his gaze roved over her pleasure-ravaged body.
Lisette lay partially on her right side, arms pulled close to her chest while she sucked down deep breaths. Her hair spread out over the dark comforter, catching light from the bathroom. In profile, he could see her half-sleeve.
Without her warmth, the chill soaked back into his body, leaving him cold and unsatisfied. It was much the way he was without her.
She propped herself up on her elbow, her gaze struggling to focus on him. Her lower lip was glossy and swollen, no doubt from trying to contain her boisterous release. What did she see when she looked at him? It had to be different from the picture he saw of himself.
Whatever she saw, it didn’t scare her. She pushed up to her knees and scooted toward him.
Lisette flattened her palms against his chest and dragged them down, over his ribs and abs to the waistband of his soaking jeans. There was no hesitation in the way she touched him, none of the uncertainty he faced.
She was so much stronger than he was.
She unbuckled his belt and drew it through the loops until it was free and his pants sagged lower on his hips. He took the belt from her before she could drop it on the ground. Something about her touch calmed him, grounded him in the moment. Watching her force the tab through the stiff denim, he caught himself breathing in time with her, gritting his teeth as she struggled to coerce the waterlogged fabric to cooperate.
His jeans parted, but clung to his skin. It took both of them to scoot his pants down his hips and thighs, but by then Lisette had lost interest in helping him. She traced the elastic of his boxers. The damp material was torture on his hot flesh.
She peeled his boxers down, her gaze studying him. But only for a moment. She wrapped her hands around his length and he hissed at the contrast of hot and cold.
“Fuck,” he muttered, breaking the spell of near silence.
“Yeah?” She chuckled and ran her hands up and down his cock while peering at him. Such mischief.
“Come here.”
He dug a hand into her hair and pulled her up on her knees, bringing her mouth to his. She eagerly met him, mouth open. He hungered for this, the connection drawing taut between them, drawing them closer in spirit and body. He tasted her lips, drinking her in while her hands continued to tease his flesh. His cock was pressed to her stomach as one hand caressed the crown while the other cupped his balls.
His hands trembled with the force of his desire. He knew how she sounded when she came, the way her body twitched, her scream of pleasure. He desperately wanted to feel that, to have her nails digging into his shoulders, his ass as he pounded into her.
He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as they both sucked down air. Her hands continued to tease him. She turned her face toward him, her lips coasting over his cheek, toward his ear.
“Let me. Please, Sir?” she whispered.
He didn’t know what she was asking permission for, but another tremor shook his body.
“No,” he said roughly, the word ripped from him. He caught both her hands in one of his. “You make me so fucking crazy.”
The belt had been forgotten, lying on the bed where he’d dropped it. He grabbed it now, looping it around her wrists until he had her manacled, hands in front of her.
“Should I apologize, Sir?” She didn’t shy away from him. In fact, her crooked smile hitched higher.
“No.” Another time, he’d make her suck him off for that look, but now he just wanted to be deep inside of her. This all-consuming drive might kill him. It might ruin him for anyone else. But for now—tonight—he would live again in her.
She stretched toward him, her breasts plumped between her arms as she leaned against him, her hands at his side, her tether in his grasp.
“I want you,” she whispered, seeming to revel in her forthright confession.
“I know.”
Fuck. He hadn’t planned this out at all. Did he even own condoms anymore? Her mouth, her hands, they weren’t good enough. Not tonight.
She seemed to sense his hesitation, though he knew he’d given nothing away. He wouldn’t be a cop worth his salt if he was that easy to read. “What do you want me to do, Sir?”
“Do you have protection?” They’d had “The Talk” already about STIs, but this was different.
“I have an IUD.” She licked her lips. “No condom.”
For a moment his lungs stopped working. Even as stupid college kids, he’d used protection with her and just about every other woman he’d been with. The idea of not only being in her but feeling everything about her was too much.
“Mathieu, I don’t want anything between us, but if you...”
“Hell no.”
He pushed her back onto the bed, wrapping the belt around his hand. She curled her calves around his thighs and ass. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, rubbing the bulging ridge on the underside.
“Fuck,” he growled.
“Yeah. Do that.” She strained against his hold, bringing his erection to her mound. If he allowed her, she’d erode his control.
He lifted the belt and her hands until she was forced to release him. He grasped his cock and passed the crown through her folds, the arousal of her orgasm coating him. She groaned and clutched the belt with both hands. He thrust and her body yielded to the intrusion, allowing him to sink into her pussy. The sight of their joined bodies nearly undid him, the contrast of their skin, the way she fit him. The feel of it was even better.
Heat coursed through his veins, warming him from the inside out. He withdrew and thrust again. They both groaned as he was seated fully in her channel. Lisette panted, her lashes dark crescents against her cheeks. Her cheeks and mouth pink. Her chest heaved. The tight furl of her nipples taunted him with thoughts of everything he hadn’t done to her. Yet.
“Look at me,” he said.
There was something important about this moment. He needed to see her. To know what she felt. That this connection sizzling in his chest wasn’t just him.
Her eyes opened slowly. The fire in her gaze threatened to eat him up. Singe him if he got too close.
It wasn’t just him. Whatever this was, they were both in i
t.
Mathieu forced himself to gentle his hold on the belt, give her some slack. He withdrew, groaning at the sensation of skin on skin. The friction, the way she hugged him, it was good. Her legs constricted around him and pulled him back to her, sinking slowly.
“More,” she moaned, arching toward him.
He pushed deep and her internal muscles constricted around his length. He eased in and out, each pass becoming easier as she stretched to accommodate him. Her hips lifted off the bed, meeting his thrusts.
Lisette’s brow creased and she pulled on the belt. She bit her lip and he stilled.
“What’s wrong?” Maybe this was too fast, but fuck, he couldn’t hold out anymore.
She pulled on the belt and he acquiesced, leaning over her until he covered her body. Her legs hooked around his waist and she slid up and down on his cock. The motions of her hips, the way her body undulated under him scrambled his thoughts for a moment.
“Fuck me. Harder. Please.” She drew the last word out.
Did he trust himself?
Mathieu drew her hands up over her head until the belt slid under her and her hands were clasped behind her head.
He might not be able to trust himself, but he could trust Lisette, and if she said harder—then harder was what she’d get. He pulled on the belt until her arms strained and she sucked in a breath. It was just enough to remind her who held the reins. He withdrew and thrust, her breath hissing out between her teeth, her gaze locked with his.
“Like that?”
“Harder.”
The internal grasp on his tightly coiled desire eased and he surged up into her.
“Like that?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
He pistoned in and out of her tight heat, the bed shaking with their movements. Her legs urged him on, and she tried to match him thrust for thrust, but her gaze was completely unfocused, her jaw lax.
Her breasts skated against his chest, the peaks making trails over his ribs. The sound of their bodies, the moaning, filled the room. As much as he wanted this to go on, his control was shot. He fucked her, hard, fast and gave her everything she asked for—and more. He gave her himself. No barriers. No false pretenses. He wanted her, so he took her willing body.
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