by Loki Renard
She drinks her hot chocolate, and she nibbles at the cookies and she curls up next to me and together we watch a cartoon about a cat and a mouse. It’s simple. It’s quiet. It’s safe. It’s what she needs right now. And it’s what I need too, just to have her here and know that she is going to be safe no matter what.
My gun is still holstered, and I’m wearing the holster. With her father loose somewhere, I wouldn’t rule out a brazen assault even here. There are a couple units stationed nearby in case he is stupid enough to try. To a certain extent, I hope he does come in here. I don’t want Jasmine in danger again, but I relish the notion of getting my hands on the man who destroyed his son and did his best to ruin his daughter too.
“I’m sleepy,” Jasmine declares.
“It’s okay. You can go to sleep. I’ll be here.”
“You better be,” she says, twisting around to lay her head in my lap. She looks up at me, those pretty eyes still so trusting in spite of everything. “You came to save me,” she mumbles.
“Of course I did,” I say, stroking her hair gently.
“You were too late though.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were years too late. Years and years. I wish you would have saved me before he started using me. I lost my virginity to one of his friends on my eighteenth birthday. His friend paid for me. Does that make me a whore, like Leon said?”
My heart breaks for her. “No,” I say. “It doesn’t. Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I’ve fucked so many men,” she whispers. “But you’re the only one I liked fucking, Rico. Would you do it again?”
I knew she wasn’t a virgin when I met her, but the idea of her being used and taken by men who never appreciated her beauty or her mind makes me angry. I try not to let it show. Nothing she’s done before this point was her fault. It doesn’t taint her. All that matters is that I have her now. She’s mine. And she’ll never belong to anyone else.
“We’ll be together again. Just not tonight. You need to rest up a little and heal.”
“I need you,” she semi-moans. “I’ve been bad. Very bad. I need you to spank me, Rico. I need you to fuck me until I forget.”
There is no way I’m having sex with her at this point in time. She’s battered, bruised, and under the influence of some pretty powerful medications.
“I have done crimes, Rico. You should whip me for them. You should make me hurt…”
I gather her up into a hug, pulling her up so she’s sitting in my lap. I cradle her close and I start telling her everything she needs to hear. “This wasn’t your fault, Jasmine. You’re a good girl. You’re a very good girl. You’ve helped me as much as you can, and you’ve been so strong and so brave. It’s okay to rest now.”
“But…” she looks at me with her eyes gleaming with tears. “Mein vater ist tot,” she whispers again.
I reach down to the plate and pick up a cookie. “Here,” I say. “You can have as many as you like.”
She shakes her head, but nibbles anyway. “You don’t understand me, Rico. You never will. Because you’re good, and I’m bad. And there’s only one thing to do with bad girls. You have to hurt them until they’re good.”
She’s a beautiful little vessel of sin, and I know she wants absolution. But I’m not going to hurt her. Not the way she’s talking about, and definitely not tonight.
“I think we should go to bed,” I say. “Let’s get some sleep.”
She doesn’t raise any objection to that, so I gather her up, crumbs and all and I take her to bed. The house alarm is set, my gun is not far from my hand, and I help Jasmine undress. There are marks on her arms and legs from where those monsters beat her. I make a mental note of them. They’re going to pay for each and every one of them.
She strips to her panties, and we get into bed. I hold her in my arms and cradle her to sleep. It doesn’t take long. She’s exhausted and she’s got enough sedative on board to make a horse take a nap.
I wake up to hot lips around my cock.
My eyes fly open as I realize what the sensation is. I push the covers back and flip the bedside light on. Jasmine is down on her knees, her mouth wrapped around my dick. I am rock hard and horny as hell. The clock beside the bed reads 04:00.
“What are you doing?” The question is stupid. I know exactly what she’s doing.
“I need you to fuck me, Rico,” she purrs around my cock. “I need your dick inside me. I need you to make me feel like you did when you took me.”
This is wrong. I should be looking after her, taking care of her. But she is a grown woman and I don’t see the same drug addled glaze in her eyes now.
She sits up and runs an elegantly manicured finger down the seam of her panties. “Pull these down and fuck me, Rico,” she begs. “Make my cunt yours.”
It’s already mine.
I reach down and pull her up my body. The position puts her hot pantied pussy directly over my hard cock, the buttery softness of the lace of her underwear rubbing between us as she grinds against me.
“I told you it was time to sleep, little girl.”
“But I didn’t want to,” she pouts. “I wanted you to fuck me.”
Goddamn. There is no resisting this seductive minx of a woman. I run my hands down her shapely body, clasp her ass against me, and my fingers curl in the delicate lace of her underwear, pulling it, stretching it, and ultimately, tearing it slowly from her sweet, needy pussy.
She is writhing against me as I sink my cock inside her, finding the depths of her creamy cunt. She’s wet. Really fucking wet, and those hot inner walls stretch perfectly for me as I hold her hips and work her bottom back and forth, making her cunt ride me.
“Is this what you wanted, baby?”
“Yesss,” she moans. “I needed you to fuck me just like this.”
I push her right down on my cock, hold her there in place, help her feel the stretch of her pussy as my thick dick throbs inside her. This is the connection we’ve always had, a hot, sexual dynamic which is only satisfied when I have her pussy wrapped around me.
“Is this better, hmm?” I kiss her passionately, my big hands clasping her bottom as I pull my cock out of her, swirl my finger in the mixture of our juices, and push it against the tight little bud of her bottom.
She whimpers for my cock to return, but I am starting to think maybe she does need sex and maybe not the gentle, kind, sweet orgasmic kind. Maybe she needs the kind that absolves her of the weight of her misdeeds.
I push my finger harder against that little hole. I feel it give way, hot and tight. And I feel her cunt squirming against my cock, begging to be filled.
“Have you been a bad girl, Jasmine?”
“Yes!”
She breathes her confession against my mouth. I leave her pussy empty, and work her bottom on my finger. I want to tease her, stretch her. I want to open her up to me, give her what she craves.
“What happens to bad girls?” I growl the question against her mouth.
“They… mmnnghh… they get fucked…”
“Where do they get fucked?”
“In… in the ass?”
I push my finger in deeper, feel her hot ass clench it.
“They get their bottoms fucked,” I agree. “They get their tight, naughty, hot little bottoms fucked nice and hard.”
She moans as I lift her hips and guide not her pussy, but her bottom toward my cock. The lubricant from her pussy is ample, slathering my cock in her need. I start to push my dick against that tight ring of muscle, making her surrender.
Her moans become whimpers, but I keep pushing. This is what she needs. This is what she wants. I push my cock deeper, feel that tight ring of muscle give way to me. Her ass feels amazing. She’s tight. She’s hot. She’s giving herself to me in every way a woman can. I’ve taken each of her holes.
“Fuck me,” she begs. “Please… fuck me hard.”
I keep her hips in my grasp an
d lift her slowly up and down my cock, letting her ass adjust to the fucking. She can have it hard and rough soon. For now, I want to enjoy her. The way she arches and gasps with pleasure. The way her pussy leaves a trail of hot wet desire across my pubic hair. She’s beautiful in her desire, unrelenting in her need.
I can’t take this anymore. I have to take her properly, fully, like she needs to be taken. I plunge my cock in and out of her, wrapping my arms around her lower back to keep her in place.
I fuck her without mercy, making her bottom pay for every sin she has stored up. She moans and whines and whimpers and she grinds against me, working her tight little clit against my pubic bone so when I finally do roar with climax and fill her hot ass with my cum, she orgasms as well, shuddering and shaking and begging for the release she is already enjoying.
Jasmine collapses against me, finally spent, finally satisfied.
“Thank you,” she mumbles against my lips before falling asleep on my chest, her bottom leaking my seed.
The next morning, things begin to intensify. There’s more news coming in from the field agents. While I take their calls and messages, Jasmine showers and dresses in my clothes, not hers. Having her pad about the house in my shirt is adorable, but I have some agents drop some more appropriate attire off so she can get dressed in case we need to leave the house.
Her father appears to have disappeared off the face of the planet. We had twenty people assigned to him last night. They’ve tracked down all the usual employees, contacts, henchmen, and not found a thing.
“Jasmine,” I say as she sits at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea. “I need to ask you some questions.”
Her blue eyes sparkle. “Another interrogation, Agent Rico?”
She is obviously feeling much better today, but there’s still something she’s not telling me. I can sense it. In a way, it’s what I’ve always sensed from her. Jasmine and I have a lot of lies between us. She has so many secrets I have yet to discover. She told me some last night, when she confessed to having sex with her father’s friends for money. I don’t know if she remembers telling me, but I won’t ever forget it.
Her father used her. He tried to ruin her. He is going to spend the rest of his life behind bars. I am determined to make that happen.
“Not an interrogation,” I say. “We can’t find your father.”
She nods, seeming unsurprised.
“Can you tell me anything that might help us find him and bring him to justice?”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she says, hiding her mouth behind the cup.
“Oh it’s going to happen. I am going to find him.”
She gives a little smirk, and in that moment, she looks so much like her brother.
“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.”
That’s a lie. A bold-faced lie.
“Jasmine,” I growl. “If there’s something you can tell me…”
“Mein vater ist tot,” she smiles, reverting to the German she slurred at me last night.
“You want cookies, now? It’s breakfast time.”
She laughs. “You should really learn to speak another language other than English,” she says.
I’m confused. She’s not only not helping me, she’s deliberately making this harder than it needs to be. I don’t understand why.
“Look, speak English, okay?”
“You’re not allowed to demand people just speak English, Rico,” she smirks.
I’m starting to get frustrated.
“They beat you last night,” I remind her. “They hurt you. And your father is still out there, so how about you stop messing around and tell me what I need to know.”
She narrows her eyes a little. “I’m telling you everything I can bring myself to tell you, Rico. It’s not easy to turn your whole family in.”
There it is. That misplaced loyalty that neither Leon nor Jaques deserve.
“We found a gun. Recently fired. Your brother’s fingerprints are on it,” I say, taking another tack.
“Maybe he was shooting target practice.”
It’s plausible, but I don’t believe it. She’s lying to me. Bare-faced, stone cold lying. I am not impressed.
“Jasmine. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it to do with your father’s whereabouts?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, Rico.”
“Yes, you do. I know you, Jasmine. I know when you’re lying. And you should know me well enough by now to know that lying is a bad idea.”
“What are you going to do? Spank me?” She smirks. “You can’t do that. Not as part of an official criminal investigation.”
“I’m not going to spank you,” I say, standing up. “I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, Jasmine. I thought we were on the same side.”
She lets out a feminine little growl. “We have never been on the same side, Rico. I’m a criminal. So is my family. I’m telling you what I can, and not what I can’t. Forget my father. He doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Why not?” I cock my head to the side. “Why aren’t you worried your father won’t come for you again?”
She looks at me, beautifully, blankly. She forces me to figure it out for myself.
I could whip her ass and force her to tell me. I could lock her up until she talks. She knows these things, but she’s staying silent. I rack my brains, trying to work out why the girl who wanted my cum in her ass suddenly won’t give me information that could save her life.
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
I thought I could handle just about anything from Rico. Correction. Rules. Discipline. Hell, I even handled separation when I thought it was for his own good. But now? Looking into those eyes I know I can’t handle everything. I can’t take his disappointment.
For years, I thought myself emotionless. Heartless. I saw my father killed and felt near indifference. Relief. And then I met Rico. Knowing I let him down breaks my heart. I open my mouth to tell him the truth, but I can’t make the words come, and I’m not sure why. I wonder what he’ll do. Punish me until I tell him? He said he won’t, though. Hell, part of me wishes he would. I told him last night that bad girls need to be hurt until they’re good… a part of me needs him to help me tell him the truth. We lock eyes, and my heart twists in my chest. I want to see adoration in his eyes. Pride.
I’ve never wanted that from anyone in my life. Why do I want it from him?
I can’t bear to look at him, so I turn my eyes away. My body’s still deliciously sore from the way he took me this morning. I can still feel him in me. But he’s a good man. The very best. And he doesn’t deserve a woman like me.
I turn away, wondering where I’ll go. What I’ll do. There’s one thing I know without a doubt: my first mission is finding my mother.
I don’t expect him to come up behind me and gather me up in his arms. I still when I feel his arms about me, not knowing what to expect. I need to steel myself so I can pull away. I need to. He turns me around to face him and pulls me to his chest. With a sigh, berating myself for falling for this man when I should be strong enough to resist, I let my cheek rest on the clean, warm fabric of his dress shirt. I inhale him. I exhale my courage. When he touches me like this, I can’t be the strong woman I’ve been for years and I both hate and love that.
“Why don’t you trust me, Jasmine?” he asks me softly, running a hand down the back of my head soothingly. “Haven’t I shown you I’m a man you can trust?”
My brother killed my father, and Rico will lock him up. If my brother faces jail for what he’s done, what will I face? Can I bear to be separated from him? Do I deserve jail? My mind begins to spiral out of control, and I can’t stop it.
Rico sits in his overstuffed armchair and pulls me onto his lap. Gliding a hand along my jaw, he cups my chin and brings my gaze to meet his stormy blue eyes. Without a word, he leans in. He’s going to kiss me. The crazy par
ade of fears and questions in my mind slows. Warm lips brush mine. My mouth parts, welcoming him in, and my body remembers his domination, a tingle of need and pleasure vibrating through every part of me. Leaning me back, he kisses me with the gentleness that belies the strong grip he has on my neck, and I moan into his mouth when his teeth bite my lower lip. With one hand on my neck, his other explores my body, grazing a thumb over my hardened nipple. A jolt of arousal zings through me when our tongues meet. We kiss until my lips are numb and a low throb of need clenches my belly. I’m begging with desperate little mewls.
He pulls away far too soon, and my body keens with the need for more. With his lips at my ear, he whispers, “I’ll show you. You’ll see you can trust me.” He plants a tender kiss to my temple before he folds me onto the chair and gets to standing. “For now, you’re with me, and you know what that means. You’ll do as I say, and when I say it.” Stern Rico’s back. “For now, I’m calling in at the office. My men are doing their jobs. Today is about me and you.”
I look at him with curiosity when he pulls his phone out of his pocket to make a call. What does he have in mind?
A few minutes later, he comes back to me, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright,” he says. “I haven’t played a day of hooky in…let me see…” he counts on his fingers and mumbles to himself. “Twenty years.”
That makes me smile. “I forget how old you are.”
Flashing me a mischievous grin that makes him look far younger than he is, he lifts one brow. “Careful, there, missy. This old man can still whip your ass if necessary.”
I flop back on the couch. “Oh, it’s necessary,” I say, half-joking, half hoping.
“C’mon,” he says, gesturing for me to join him. “Teach an old man how to play hooky.”
We order pizza and watch a movie. I show him how to download a game on his phone, and giggle like a little girl when he sticks his tongue out in concentration. He finds some old books of his on a bookshelf, dusty with disuse, and snuggles me on his lap to read to me. Then when afternoon comes, he decides it’s time for me to rest again.
