by Alexis Anne
“So hot and tight. Your orgasms feel amazing,” he bit out, still talking for me, “like a vice around my dick. It makes me insane.” He grunted. “Pinch those nipples for me. I want to feel it again. Squeeze me until I come inside you.”
I did as he requested, cupping my sensitive breasts and then tweaking my nipples over and over. It was exactly what I needed. It sent me right over the edge and my inner muscles fluttered, then clenched tight around Leo’s cock.
He rammed into me once, twice more then poured himself deep inside. I was so satisfied I could barely walk to the shower. I propped myself against the wall as we each washed ourselves clean as quickly and efficiently as possible, then fell into a dreamless sleep so satisfying I didn’t want to wake up when morning dawned.
CHAPTER 15
I watched Leo sleep for at least ten minutes. His breaths were so even and his face so relaxed. It was a wonderful thing to absorb. My goal was to one day be as peaceful as he appeared in sleep. Instead I woke with my head spinning.
Be a good girl.
Fuck how I loved it when he said that. It got me hot and purring like a kitten every damn time. But every morning after, my heart pounded with anxiety. The kind of anxiety that clawed at my throat. Who was this woman that got off on such dirty talk? Who came at the command of a man? Why did I love role-play so much?
I crossed my legs and stroked Leo’s hair as I thought. It was always the same, whether it was men, the club, or Leo, I became a different person when I slipped into the role of sex kitten. In the safety of that world I could trust. I could give. I could let my mind wander down roads that it otherwise never felt safe wandering down.
So why the anxiety? Understanding that was the million dollar question.
When I was little we’d go to church on Sunday. Early. We’d take our lessons then shake hands and gather, listen to the sermon while sitting prominently near the front, then spend the next hour mingling. There was more handshaking. More appearances. More favors. My father was important and celebrated despite his deplorable treatment of his wives. His divorces were forgiven, his mistresses overlooked. His unscrupulous business choices apparently had nothing to do with his goodness. In one room I was told sex was bad and shameful, that my virginity was precious and valuable—the most valuable part of me. Not my mind, not my heart, not my potential contributions to society.
No, it was virginity.
My virtue.
My purity.
All while my father was celebrated in the next room. His virginity, virtue, and purity were not factors. His money however . . . that seemed to be quite important. Perhaps it was there that I began studying humanity, analyzing the inconsistencies of our values, researching the true meaning beneath the fancy words.
Analysis for me always began with stripping away the window dressing. It’s only there to make things pretty, anyway. Then I discarded the distractions. They’re only there to keep you from seeing the truth. I scrape away the layers until I’m left with only the most basic elements. In my research that often ends with the simple question: Who were these people and what did they need? Occasionally I follow that up with What did they want? Because desire so often explains the break between what people say they do and what they actually do.
Who were these people I grew up with and what did they need?
What did they want?
The simple answer was power and control, something they got by keeping my father happy and shaming everyone else into behaving. Their needs for love and comfort, their natural instinct to seek love and comfort in another, pinched out of existence. Sex was a sin.
But when I stripped myself down to my most basic level my needs didn’t look like sin.
I needed to be loved. I needed to matter.
When I followed the rules I felt pointless. What good was a life lived to serve someone else, devoid of love, comfort, and belonging?
If my most basic need was to be loved then I would find that comfort in any way I could. My search for purpose led me down many paths, joined me with many beautiful, wonderful people. My love for them knew no bounds and the gift they gave me was literally what kept me alive in my darkest hours. I’d rather be a sinner who knew love than an angel who didn’t matter.
The confirmation that this was the right choice came in the form of Leo Hancock. When I stripped away my research, my classes, my daily life, when I stripped away my past and my family, when it was just me naked with Leo, I felt the truth of life down to my bones.
I’d given myself to many others but it was only with Leo that I was truly vulnerable and genuinely safe. He loved me as he loved my body, with reverence and tender fascination. He sought to know all of me, to anticipate my needs, to understand how each word or touch changed me, and used that knowledge to enrich my life, not control it.
This was love. This act of intimacy was so pure and innocent. It was meant entirely to make the other feel loved.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice was rough from sleep and very sexy.
“Do you like the kinds of sex we have?”
His eyes popped open and zeroed in on me. “Of course.” Then he waited for me to explain.
“I like it too. I love it, actually. It’s very freeing.”
He rolled to his side, trying to shake his sleepiness away. I got distracted by his naked torso and wound up running my hands down the muscles of his body until they disappeared under the covers.
“Careful, Esme.”
“I am being careful.” I pushed the sheet aside. His cock was already hard in my hand—probably a case of morning wood—so I indulged the flash of desire that passed through me. I wrapped my mouth around his cock, sucking him all the way down until he kissed the back of my throat. The combination of sensations made Leo groan and my core to flutter.
Why? Was it because of the pressure of his head on my soft palate, or was it because I was doing something to him that gave him pleasure, or something else altogether?
He lifted me by the hips until I was over his body, then his mouth was on me, too. “Is this about the belt?” he murmured between my legs.
“No.” I rubbed my nipples along his firm abs as I worked him with slow, deep strokes.
He pressed a finger inside me and massaged a circle. Where I was slow, he was fast, frantic even, stroking and massaging as he sucked. “Be my good girl and come on face.”
My inner muscles clenched and I grew wetter. “Why do I like that?”
“You like the praise, Esme.” He lifted me off his chest, moving over the top of me. “You like the attention, too. You also love the power exchange.”
He pulled me to the edge of the mattress, entered me from behind, and stopped. “Just now? You put me in your mouth because you wanted the power. You wanted to make me feel good on your terms. It gave you a thrill, right?”
I pushed back on his cock, wanting more. “How do you know so much?”
“This is what I’ve always been good at.” He took my hips in his hands and stroked slowly inside me. “I read people. I see what they want and I chose when to give it them. It makes me a damn good negotiator for my clients and for many years it made me a good weekend lover. But you know what I think?” His slow strokes began to pick up speed until his flesh slapped against mine.
“What?” I could barely breathe.
“I think it was all training me to be the man you needed.” He stopped, pulled out, took my chin in his hand as he sat beside me. “You are a strong, brilliant, damaged woman. And there is nothing wrong with needing to figure yourself out. How you choose to live your life once you know yourself is your choice.”
“And I’m a strong, brilliant woman who likes praise, attention and power exchange?”
His beautiful lips twitched into a smile. “Everyone likes praise. You feed off it because you’re starved for it. I’m happy to provide you praise any time you need it, in any fashion you prefer it. Your dress is fucking gorgeous is just as much fun for me as that was a brilliant lecture and be
my good girl and spread for me.”
Yeah, I got wet all over again.
“And the power exchange . . .” he drawled while standing up and opening the nightstand, “has its biggest payoff when I take your control and dominate you. Does that upset you?”
“It . . . confuses me.” But I understood his logic. It was exciting to take control. Just as thrilling was having it taken from me. Like a sport. Offense, defense, special teams. Sometimes I had the advantage and all the tricks in my playbook worked. Sometimes I lost everything.
And sometimes I got taken out for dinner and desert afterward.
It wasn’t wrong or right. It was fun.
“It doesn’t confuse me,” he said as he massaged my ass. “You trust me. You want me. And together that means we can explore every single one of our desires. I can push you when your mind is a mess—help you clear it. You can relax me when nothing else can. We can play together.”
He spread my cheeks and lubricated me. “Do you remember what you asked for our first night? What I refused to give you?”
“God, yes.”
“Well, darling girl. This is your reward for waiting until you were ready. You sucked me into your sweet mouth and it felt oh, so good. Now, I’m going to have you the way I’ve been wanting you for months. You’re going to give it to me. Say yes.”
“Yes. Please, Leo? I’ve been waiting.” Nothing else excited me like this. The forbidden aspect turned me on in so many ways. It was a fundamental part of me.
“I know these last few days have been hard on you.” He pressed his fingers inside me, opening me, preparing the way. He kept up a steady stream of lubricant until he was satisfied. “Now, clear your mind of everything except how good you’re making us both feel.”
He rolled on a condom then pressed the head of his cock against my muscles and pushed. Slowly, Steadily. Until he was inside.
It hurt in the best possible way. The sensations tensed my body and then forced it to relax. Leo’s grunts excited me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his fingers digging into my hips and he held us together.
“Yes,” I whispered because it was all I could do.
“Jesus Christ, Esme. You are so fucking tight. How are you okay right now?” He sounded truly astonished.
“Because I want you. In every way,” I whispered through the pleasure-pain. “And this makes me feel alive.”
I was much more sensitive that most. I could come from nipple play alone. I could have multiple orgasms from vaginal sex. And while some people found anal sex boring or just uninteresting, it was a complete pleasure mind-fuck for me. Every bit as amazing as vaginal sex. Sometimes more so.
He slid inside me until his entire cock was buried to the hilt. He shook as he curled his body around mine and stroked my swollen clitoris. “The pleasure I find buried inside your body is heaven on Earth. I love giving it to you and taking it when you ask. I want to enjoy every single way there is to please you.”
Then he gave my clit a nice firm smack.
I bucked backward against him as I cried out for more.
“Oh no. Not quite yet. I want to enjoy this,” he murmured, pulling back and stroking deep. “So beautiful to see you stretched around me. To see my dick disappearing inside you over and over again.” He gave my hips another massage. “Fuck, how you take me.”
I wanted to come. Knew I could come several times like this. With anal sex my pussy was achingly empty, which meant my body continued to swell with arousal, making everything so much more sensitive than normal. A tweak of my nipple could send me over the edge, a stroke of my clit could make me explode.
But my mind liked the games Leo played and right now he was in charge. “May I come? Please? I’m so ready.”
“Not yet.”
I shuddered, pushed back, asked for more.
He buried himself deep, slid his hand down my spine, to my shoulder, where he latched on. “Tell me the truth. Do you need more fun than this? Want more?”
My mind was wild now, latching on to every fantasy I could imagine. “Need? No. Want . . . yes.”
He groaned. “Then be a good girl and come for me. I want to feel those muscles.”
I leaned down so the side of my face was lying on the blankets below us. With my right hand I pinched my nipple hard. With my left I rubbed my clitoris. I came hard and fast, an explosion of white light and heat.
“Fuck yeah. Jesus, I can barely move you’re clenching me so damn tight. I love the way you moan when you come. Fucking love it. Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I was high as a kite and could barely see straight, let alone think, but I was okay.
My breathing normalized so I switched hands. My right on my clit, my left on my nipple. I dipped a finger inside and gasped at the new sensation.
“Are you touching yourself?” Because he liked it I pumped my fingers several times so he could feel it. “Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back. “Come for me. Now. Right now. Give it to me.”
He kept up a nonstop stream of demands as I pinched harder, stroked deeper. Leo came hard, yelling louder than I’d ever heard him as he spilled inside me. I waited until he was nearly done before I gave myself one last flick. I came. My muscles squeezed him hard, turned his nearly done orgasm into more.
It pleased me oh, so much to hear his strangled cries of pleasure mixed with grunts of pain.
After we carefully separated and started a shower I wove my body around his under the spray. “Thank you.”
He fisted my hair and pulled my head back. “I love you, Esme.”
My heart rate sped up. “I love you too.” Once again I felt so lucky to have met a man who loved me so much and who wanted the same kind of life.
CHAPTER 16
“Agent Dixon. Agent Capp. Thank you for seeing me.” I took a cold and flimsy-looking seat across a small conference table from them.
“Of course. Quite frankly, we were surprised.” Dixon said as he smoothed his ugly black tie. If I could imagine a world where I didn’t hate his guts I’d find him mildly attractive.
But I didn’t live in that world.
“Yes well, everyone has their limits. I’ve reached mine. As I’m sure you’re aware I’m quite happy with my life these days. There’s only one black spot. You.”
Capp shrugged his wide shoulders. “We have a job to do. Until we can clear you of suspicion I’m afraid things are the way they are.”
I leaned across the table with a folder. I kept my finger on it. “And what leads you to believe I’m a suspect? Or that my father might be? You know . . . I’m not entirely sure I know what you even suspect us of.”
“Well, we can start at the beginning. It’s a mighty huge coincidence that allegations of game fixing have specifically come out of the two teams Edmund Brown owned.”
“I was in college when my father was part owner of the Nashville franchise. As I’m sure you’re also quite aware, I was busy causing a scandal and pissing Edmund off.”
Dixon blushed and looked away.
So they did know.
“And as I’m sure you aware, I have nothing to do with my father. I’m an accomplished anthropologist with a busy research program. I don’t have time to worry about football.” I shoved the first of the folders across the table. “That is my financials for the last five years. The lab is self-sustaining with legal money and donations. Grants. And now a legitimate product. My income from both my teaching and the lab are detailed. I have no financial stake in football or Brown Global Corporations.”
“Emotional then?” Capp asked
“What?”
“You said you have no financial stake in football. Maybe that means it was never about the money for you.”
“My only emotional stake in football or any other sport comes in the form of loving my boyfriend and his career. That’s it.”
“And your father?” Dixon asked as he flipped through the folder. He glanced up. “What can you tell us about him?”
&nbs
p; “Nothing. I’ve never really had a relationship with him until he discovered I was good at financial futures. I got away from him as soon as I could.”
“Yet you attend his parties. We’ve seen you with your brother.”
I sighed. I expected them to remain skeptical but really? “I won’t be attending any more. William and I are trying to build a new relationship as adults.”
That part was true. We left our impromptu meeting with a plan to continue to get to know each other. I was excited. Marie didn’t particularly care for that part, but she was only there to help Leo hash out the logistics on how they were going to move forward with their clients.
I didn’t envy them the task ahead. Since they couldn’t do anything about Jonathan Eubank or his gambling, they decided to begin approaching their clients one at a time. The newer athletes would be first, followed by the ones least likely to be involved. Kind of like a quarantine of Bancroft Sports athletes. Once they had them covered they’d move on to the athletes that were mostly likely involved.
Many would never admit to being part of this. They were too invested. But they could save a few.
Dixon nodded to the other folder I still held under my finger. “What’s that?”
“A hypothesis.”
Both men’s eyebrows rose. “A hypothesis?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “You told Leo that you thought I was more than capable of cracking computer passwords. You’d be correct. I crack most codes. I can trace cultural lineages back millions of years in my head. I can also draw threads of information together that might elude others.”
Yes, I was taking credit for everyone’s hard work but I didn’t have time or the desire to explain how we figured this out. “I’m tired of being a suspect when I’ve done nothing but teach classes and crack a time code for human migration. I took a look at the Nashville allegations and timeline, then cross referenced it with information I’ve found about current issues in the football league.”
