Dirty Devil
Page 4
‘What?’ Her surprise morphed into uncertainty.
I shook my head, keeping her hands trapped. ‘Not tonight, Josephine.’
‘What do you mean, not tonight?’ She blinked. ‘I thought you said—’
‘I did. But I changed my mind.’
She didn’t move, kneeling at my feet and studying me. Her hands were warm beneath my palms, the slight pressure of them against my stomach making me aware that my dick was not happy with me stopping her.
Too bad. It would live.
‘Just to be clear,’ she said, ‘So we don’t have any “misunderstandings”. You don’t want me to give you a blow job?’
‘No. Like I said, I changed my mind.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m a lot of things, Sugar. But I’m not a man who takes advantage of women.’ I gave the back of her hand a reassuring stroke with my thumb. ‘Even women who break into my office and lie straight to my face.’
Another flicker in her eyes, and this time it was definitely fear.
It wasn’t an emotion I liked to see in a woman’s face.
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ I said before she could reply, giving her another stroke to calm her. ‘But you broke in here. And I can’t have—’
She pulled one hand out from under mine and without hesitation laid her warm palm directly over my fly and squeezed.
I jerked as lightning shot through me in response, jagged and sharp, igniting sparks in my blood and making my stupid dick very happy indeed.
Fucking hell.
‘Naughty girl,’ I said roughly. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
Her lashes fluttered, thick, black and silky. ‘Seems to me like some parts of you haven’t changed their minds.’
Jesus. Determined little thing, wasn’t she?
‘Yeah, but those parts aren’t in charge.’ I pressed her palm against me so she couldn’t move it. Which was probably a mistake, given how good the pressure felt. ‘On your feet.’
But she stayed where she was. Again.
‘Oh, come on,’ she murmured. ‘What kind of playboy says no to a blow job?’ And she gave my dick another squeeze, as if to prove her point.
More lightning strikes of pleasure shot through me, bright and intense, making my breath catch.
Holy fuck. I’d never had a reaction like this to a woman handling my cock. What the hell was she doing to me? And why her?
I tried to pull myself together, pressing down hard on her hand so she couldn’t move it. She was staring up at me, giving me a smoky look, yet I hadn’t missed that shake in her fingers as she’d touched me. She might act as though she’d seduced thousands of men, but I’d bet all my billions that she hadn’t.
‘I know what you’re doing,’ I said. ‘But I’m afraid that shit’s not going to fly. I prefer a blow job where everyone’s into it and no one has any ulterior motives except to get naked, understand?’
Her brows rose. ‘And yet you’re still standing here.’
Fuck.
She’s got you.
I opened my mouth to respond—though Christ knew what I was going to say—when she leaned forward, pressing her tight, warm body against my legs. ‘You don’t know me. Getting naked might be exactly what I want to do.’ She was soft against me, and hot, and then she leaned farther in, brushing her mouth over the back of my hand. ‘Shall I get naked for you, Mr Blackwood? Is that what you’d like?’
Mr Blackwood.
It shouldn’t have made any difference. I had women say that kind of shit to me all the time. But there was something about this particular woman... She’d gone from frightened waitress, to nervous stalker, to practised seductress in the space of five minutes and damn if that didn’t make me even more fascinated than I already was.
Which one was the real her? Was any of them the real her? Or was she someone different? Was the real woman hiding deep inside, just waiting for the right man to come and find her?
Desire and fascination wound together, tightening their grip on me.
It had been a long time since I’d had a woman like this one. A woman I couldn’t read and didn’t know just by looking at her. A very long time...
Yeah, and you discovered her hiding under your desk, don’t forget. Not only do you have no idea who she is, you also have no idea what she’s doing here.
This was true. And security was an issue when you were as rich as I was. Which meant letting myself get side-tracked like this was the height of stupidity.
I stared down into her bittersweet chocolate eyes, saw the glaze of heat in them. Her pupils were dilated, the pulse at the base of her lovely throat fast, all the classic signs of physical arousal.
She wasn’t faking this, that was for sure.
Keeping one hand over hers against my fly, I reached down with the other, taking her chin in my fingers and gripping her. ‘I don’t sleep with women who don’t want me,’ I said flatly, holding her gaze so she knew how serious I was. ‘And I fucking hate being used.’
Her chin got a stubborn slant, the muscles in her jaw tightening. ‘I’m not using you.’
‘Sure you are. You’re using me—or rather my cock—as a nice little distraction technique.’
For a second she said nothing. Then her face emptied of the flirty expression that had been there before, the mask of the practised seductress dropping. ‘Okay, so maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s what I was planning on doing.’ Her eyes were very dark in her pale face, but there was no mistaking the heat in them. ‘Except, now, I just want you.’
I gritted my teeth because, shit, this wasn’t a mask now. The truth was all laid out for me to see in her beautiful eyes and in the raw note in her voice.
She did want me. And my cock liked that far too much for its own good—or mine, for that matter.
You should be calling Clarence, not thinking about taking her up on her offer.
This was sadly true. She was a serious security breach and one I couldn’t let slide.
I stroked my thumb over the line of her jaw, enjoying the warm, silky feeling of her skin, watching her eyes widen fractionally as I did so. ‘That all sounds very convincing,’ I said. ‘And perhaps you’re telling the truth. But I’ve got a lot of enemies. And you’re here where you’re not supposed to be, which can lead me to several conclusions, if you catch my drift.’
‘What conclusions?’
‘Oh, conclusions such as you being an assassin sent to kill me.’
‘No.’ Her throat moved as I touched her, a convulsive swallow, but she didn’t pull away. ‘I’m not here to kill you. If I was, you’d be dead already.’
I laughed at that. ‘So sure of yourself. I like confidence in a woman. Okay, so if you’re not here to kill me, maybe you’re here to rob me instead. Is that it? Have I got something you want?’
She didn’t answer, turning her head suddenly, and before I could move her lips had closed around my thumb.
My breath caught. Hard. Her mouth was hot and wet, her tongue tracing the tip of my thumb, her gaze on mine. Watching me. Gauging my response.
Little witch. She could see what she was doing to me and, unfortunately, being a man meant I couldn’t hide it. Not that I particularly wanted to hide it, because quite honestly, I was starting to get past caring.
I didn’t often deny myself what I wanted and I couldn’t see any reason to deny myself now. Or her, for that matter, given she’d made it very clear she wanted to do this.
And, really, how much could she get up to on her knees in front of me?
My brain was shutting down, all the blood in my body heading straight to my goddamn cock. And all I was conscious of was the heat of her mouth and the touch of her wicked tongue on my skin. Imagining how it would feel if she had that tongue touching my dick instead.
‘Minx,’ I drawled. ‘You think
I’m that easy?’
A stupid thing to say. Of course I was that easy.
She didn’t speak, just tightened her lips around my thumb and began to suck. The gentle pressure felt fan-fucking-tastic and it was all I could do to keep my breathing under control.
So much for finding out who she is.
I almost smiled. Oh, I’d find out; no doubt about it. Afterwards.
This mysterious creature, creeping into my office to take whatever it was she was here to take, thinking she could distract me with a good old-fashioned blow job?
Yeah, not happening.
This was my territory, and seduction was my expertise, and she’d given away one vital advantage: she’d let me know that she wanted me.
Well, I was going to use that.
It was time to show her exactly who she was dealing with.
Gently, I pulled my hand from her mouth and undid the button on my trousers. ‘You want to suck on something, Sugar? Then you know what to do.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Thea
MY HEART WAS jumping around behind my breastbone like a gymnast on a trampoline, a dim part of me wondering what the hell I was doing.
Seducing him hadn’t seemed like that big a deal when I’d first decided on it, but now I was on my knees in front of him, with the salty taste of his skin in my mouth and the hard ridge behind his zip staring me in the face...
Well.
It seemed like kind of a big deal now.
I’d followed my gut when he’d started asking questions, dropping my act and giving him the truth—or at least a bit of it. Letting him see a piece of the real me: the woman who wanted the sun, not the shadow. Yet still he’d asked questions about whether I was there to kill him or to rob him, so I’d had to do something.
Taking his thumb into my mouth had seemed like a good idea at the time, giving me some control over what was happening. But somehow—and I still didn’t know how he’d done it when I thought I’d been making progress—he’d taken charge of things again.
He was looking at me now, one pierced brow raised in arrogant challenge, a man supremely aware of his own beauty and his extensive sexual prowess.
Daring me to refuse. To say no and pull away.
But I couldn’t. I was used to being unnoticed, yet he was noticing me, his focus so intense it was as if he was memorising every inch of me.
It was intoxicating. Addictive. And I wanted more.
You can’t afford to have him notice you, not like that.
No, I couldn’t. Then again, the chances of him ever actually remembering me were remote to non-existent. Not me, with a face you wouldn’t look at twice in the street. Your average, every-day everywoman.
I could let myself have this moment, couldn’t I, where I felt like the centre of the world instead of not even being part of it?
I took a slow breath, then another, trying to get my heartbeat under control, but he smelled so good, spice cut through with musk, and it made me ache. While the heat of his body made me want to stretch out and warm myself against him.
Yes, I could have it. I wanted it, so I was going to take it.
I lifted my hand and took hold of the tab of his zip. Then I drew it down.
The glitter of his eyes intensified, and as I spread the fabric of his trousers, I felt the tension in his muscles gather.
‘Sugar...’ he murmured as I leaned back slightly, looking at what I’d uncovered: the black cotton of his boxers stretched over the ridge of his very hard cock.
I certainly wasn’t an expert but, whoa. He wasn’t small, was he?
And it was me who’d got him like that. Pretty good for an unremarkable foundling whom no one had wanted.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. He probably gets hard for any woman.
It was true, so I tried to ignore the satisfaction that filled me. Not that it mattered anyway.
His fingers brushed over my cheekbone, making me shiver, but I ignored the touch, refusing to let myself get derailed.
Turning my hand over, I stroked my knuckles down the length of his erection, feeling the heat of him through the fabric of his underwear. The muscles of his thighs tensed as I did so and my satisfaction deepened.
He might very well get hard for every woman, but right now that woman was me and, hell, I’d take it.
Dimly, the cool part of my brain tried to tell me that there had to be a better plan than kneeling in front of a complete stranger to give him a blow job just so I could steal a damn necklace.
But I didn’t listen. It wasn’t about the necklace any more. It wasn’t even about distracting him so I could get away.
It was about the unfamiliar pulsing ache between my thighs and the hunger for something I hadn’t even known I wanted.
Since Mr Chen had died six months earlier, I’d told myself I was fine with how isolating the business was. That I didn’t mind being alone. Yet right now, with Blackwood hot and hard beneath my hand, I knew that I did mind. And that I wanted more than the shadows I currently lived in. I wanted some time in the sun.
My breathing was getting faster, louder. He could probably hear it.
I leaned forward and this time I brushed my mouth over the black cotton, inhaling his musky, masculine scent and the heat of his body.
‘Jesus...’ His voice sounded rough, stripped of its charm. His fingers slid beneath my jaw, gripping me firmly, and I just knew he was going to pull me away.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
I lifted my hands and rested my palms on the steel of his thighs, nuzzling against him. His muscles went rigid and I heard his breath catch. So I did it again.
‘Holy shit,’ he said breathlessly. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My whole body felt as if it was going to freeze and shatter into pieces if I moved away. I needed this. I needed him.
So I leaned farther into his heat, lifting one hand and hooking my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, tugging down the material.
Then it was my turn to catch my breath as I freed his cock.
Intellectually, I knew what a naked man looked like—I had a working Internet connection like most people—but looking something up online and seeing it in the flesh for the first time were two different things. And, as I was learning, that certainly applied to Damian Blackwood.
He was long, very thick and extremely hard.
He was also very pierced.
‘Oh, my God.’ I stared wide-eyed at the ring piercing the head of his cock. ‘Didn’t that hurt?’ Fascinated, I reached out, sliding a finger along his shaft to where the silver ring pierced him.
‘No.’ He sounded strangled, the muscles of his thighs like iron beneath my other hand.
‘But why?’ His skin was very hot and silky too. I touched him again, stroking him with my fingertips, and he made a rough, deep sound, his hand coming down to cover mine.
‘Because women like it. And so do I.’ He guided my fingers to the head of his cock. ‘It doesn’t hurt when you touch it either.’ The words were no longer smooth, but rough-edged.
He was liking what I was doing to him.
My mouth was dry and I swallowed, my own breathing coming faster as I stroked his velvety skin then cautiously touched the ring. Then, curious, I tugged gently on it.
He hissed, and I looked up sharply, worried for a second that I’d hurt him, despite what he’d told me.
Except it wasn’t pain that I saw as his gaze slammed into mine. Only a raw heat that stole the remaining breath from my body.
‘You want to suck me, then do it,’ he said roughly. ‘But you have to let me know now if you want the ring in or out.’
‘You can take it out?’
‘Yeah. If you want it in, don’t worry. I’ll be careful with your mouth. I know what I’
m doing, okay?’
Of course. He’d probably done this a lot. But I didn’t need to think about what I wanted. I knew already.
I eased my fingers around his shaft, running my thumb up the underside of it, loving how he hissed again, muttering a curse under his breath. ‘Do you like it in?’ I asked. ‘Because I do.’
‘Then do it.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Suck me, Sugar.’
I didn’t need to be told. I wasn’t sure how to do this, but for the moment that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was hungry and I wanted to taste him. Wanted his heat inside me, chasing the shadows away.
So I tightened my grip and leaned in, touching my tongue to the head of his cock, licking him experimentally.
He made a deep sound of masculine approval, the tension in his body vibrating under my palms, so I did it again, tasting him. His flavour was rich and salty and suddenly I was starving for more.
I licked around the sensitive head, holding on tight, teasing the ring then playing a little with it, and he groaned.
It echoed through me, settling down between my thighs, making the hungry ache that pulsed there even worse. Because for once in my life I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t passing by unnoticed.
I had his attention. I was right in the spotlight. And it made me feel brave.
So I lifted my gaze to his as I slid him deep into my mouth, sucking gently, wanting to see the expression on his face. It was tight, his features drawn in harsh lines, almost a snarl twisting his beautiful mouth. His gaze was electric and there was nothing of the charming storyteller I’d seen on the terrace in him at all now. This was nothing but raw, primal masculinity.
A shiver coursed through me, my sex throbbing.
If this was what a blow job was like every time, then I could get used it.
I held his gaze as I sucked him, watching pleasure blaze like a fire in his eyes, and he watched me in return, so intently it was as if he was trying to imprint me onto his memory.
A sliver of doubt crept under my skin, a bone-deep instinct murmuring that the way this man was looking at me could put my entire livelihood in danger.
But for once I couldn’t bring myself to care. I didn’t want to be like Mr Chen, dying alone, unnoticed and un-mourned by anyone except me. I wanted to have one person remember me, just one. To feel as though I’d been part of the world in some small way.