by Angel Payne
And damn, how he loved pleasing a sweet little subbie.
And dominating a gorgeous little hostage.
His hostage.
The affirmation cranked his blood to boiling. His savage urges became full caveman needs, driving him to mark both her shoulders with deep bites before he reared back, digging his hands into her hips, imprinting her flesh with his grip.
After one nudge to retest her readiness, he lunged forward while pulling her back—and didn’t stop until he felt his balls smack the trimmed hairs of her pussy.
“Ahhhh!”
Her desperate scream instantly swelled him more. He gritted the f word at the confines of the condom. Christ, he hoped the barrier held. He’d strained a few in his time, but no woman he’d ever screwed had this effect on him. Made him feel as if he wasn’t deep enough, didn’t stretch her enough, didn’t stamp enough of himself on her, inside her. The frustration made him withdraw nearly to her entrance before thrusting hard into her once more.
It still wasn’t enough.
“More.” The command razed his throat as he pounded into her sheath once more. “Take more of it, Zoe. More of me. Breathe, baby. You can do it.” As her shoulders dropped, her pussy slackened a little. He moved in fast, using the opportunity to conquer more of her body. “That’s it. Fuck, that’s good. Again. Let me in deeper.”
She nodded but then rolled her head, thrashing it. “So muh,” she blurted. “So fuh.”
Shay dropped his hands to her thighs and began running them inward, V’ing his fingers around her pussy. With his thumbs, he pushed at the top of her prettily-cropped mound. “But “so much’ can be so good, little hostage. So can ‘so full.’”
As he offered the seduction, his gaze was mysteriously guided to the side—and drawn at once to the items on the small medical cart there. Hell. Maybe fate really was a benevolent mistress sometimes. And maybe he’d just gotten lucky with the inspiration.
Either way, the tube of petroleum jelly wouldn’t go wasted.
In ideal circumstances, the shit wouldn’t have been his first choice for this—but since his plan was only to have fun with her anus and not get his cock anywhere near it, he felt safe in popping the lid, working the jelly onto a finger, then dipping that digit to the naughty ring surrounding her back hole. He braced his other hand to the small of her back while slowly pushing his finger inside, expecting his little hostage to become a bucking pony any second.
She met half his expectation. While the keen from her throat was high and frantic, she didn’t lurch against him. Her only resistance came in the form of clenching every muscle she could. That wasn’t such a crappy thing. Shay bit back a groan as her channel nearly crushed his dick in all the right ways.
“Ssshhh. Breathe, baby girl. This is ‘so full’ in all the best ways.”
“Mmpphh.”
“Pretty, but not a safe word. Crossed fingers, remember?”
Dammit.
He paused as she used the cue to raise her right hand.
But her fingers weren’t crossed. She really shifted only one of them—to flip him a definitive “bird” of tribute.
He let out a long, gloating chuckle. “My adorable little hostage…how fortunate you are that it feels too good to fuck you right now. But since you’ve asked so nicely…” He slicked a little more of the lubricant in, using it to fit a second finger into her ass, twisting his hand to work both digits deeper. As Zoe grunted, he began a gentle rhythm in her ass, timing it to the rocks of his dick in her pussy.
Soon, her protests faded into defeated whimpers. Her shoulders sagged. But within a few more strokes, Shay felt her start to push back on his fingers with the inner muscles of her ass. The depths of her sex kept kneading his dick. Her body quivered, easily absorbing his thrusts. When he stretched a hand to her clit, it was a rock-hard nub of sensual readiness.
“Goddamn,” he growled. “My tiny dancer likes the dirty moves, doesn’t she?”
“Mmmmm.” Her answering groan was a harmony of pleasure, pain, need, and distress. Holy God. He’d never seen a submissive so completely embrace everything she was. Taking pain for her Dom’s desire. Trusting his will with the surrender—albeit given with italics of sarcasm—of her own. Accepting his force and letting it transform with her passion…and heat.
Her obeisance flared every rocket of his lust. The pressure percolated deep in his balls, pushing the limits of his control. His thighs clenched and his ass constricted. She heightened the torment by mewling at him in protest with every new inch he gained in her ass, only to massage him harder the next second, coaxing him deeper in. His cock was a separate issue of torment. It was no longer possible to simply rock into her. With every passing minute, the blood beat more urgently up his shaft. He was powerless to ignore it and helpless to control it, letting it drive him into a thundering rhythm on her pussy. Every time he bore down, he gritted filthy commands, binding him tighter to her in nasty collusion.
“Take it, Zoe.”
She shivered and sighed.
“All of it, Zoe.”
She quaked and moaned.
“You’re filled up, Zoe.”
Finally, he pinched her labia lips together, pushing her clit into the pad of his forefinger. At the same time, he used his leverage in her ass to pull her body all the way back on his, holding her there to feel the throbs of his cock against her tight walls.
“Make your cunt come for me, Zoe.”
She froze. Shivered.
Screamed.
Shay was able to savor her climax for all of three seconds before his balls detonated. Bolts of white-hot electricity shot up his shaft. He burst in the depths of her body like a neutron bomb fused of ecstasy and agony. All around his cock, her body continued to squeeze, milking every last drop of cum. The world centered and expanded at once, spinning his senses, blowing his goddamn mind.
He couldn’t let it end there.
He couldn’t let her walk away without having her mind imploded, too.
After lowering the gag from her mouth, he leaned over and kissed her, savoring the taste of her lingering pleasure. As he trailed his mouth back along her jaw and to her neck, Zoe let out another blissful sigh.
“Sir. Thank—”
“Sssshhh.” He’d already cupped her sex with his hand again. The fingers in her ass had stayed right where they were, and his cock was still blissfully buried in her sex. With defined purpose, he pressed the heel of his hand against her mons, matching his beat to the thrusts of his other hand.
“M-m-mierda,” she gasped. “Wh-what the hell are you—”
“Rules still apply, baby girl.” He rolled his hips, letting his cock and its filled rubber add to all the sensations inside her. “Only screams.”
“But—I can’t—”
“You can. You will. Feel it build…from the inside. All those sweet, sensitive spots deep inside…you’ll give them to me now, too.”
“But I’m not built like that. I—”
“Screams, Zoe.” His razor-edged growl was rewarded by the clench of her tunnel around his cock’s crown, confirming she might actually be starting to understand. When her stare sprang wide and a stunned cry burst from her lips, he rumbled in triumph. The next minutes were defined by the most beguiling moans a submissive had ever given him, threaded together by sighs of amazement, arousal, need, and even a few tears.
Suddenly, she writhed more violently. She tried to ram her buttocks against his fingers while grinding her pelvis on his other hand. “S-Sir,” she panted. “Please. Please.”
Shay kissed her slick forehead. “Aching, little hostage?”
She jerked her head in a strange semblance of a nod. “Aaahhhh,” she moaned. “More. More!”
He broke away to slide a third finger into the petroleum jelly. When he twisted it in to her ass with the other two, she let out a high-pitched cry and pushed a fist against the mattress. Her pussy was taut and slick around him, her legs trembling and wobbly beneath him.
&n
bsp; “Better, baby girl? With another finger in here?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“But you still need it, don’t you?”
“Dios. Yes. Yes!”
“Then take it, Zoe. It’s yours.” He pressed into her mons harder. Jammed his fingers deeper into her ass hole. “I’m right here with you, too. You can feel me, can’t you? Everywhere inside you.”
“I can.” Tears trickled out of her with the confession. “I—I can.”
“Then clamp down on me and claim that fucking climax.”
He deliberately made the order into a verbal battle tank. And like a deer caught in front of the Sherman, she exploded into a thousand pieces of sexual mush. Her pussy flooded, her anus constricted, and her legs give out. As the aftershocks continued, she rolled and cried and swore in Spanish, mixing in a promise that he’d killed her with pleasure and now she’d pass to the afterlife without forgiveness for her tawdry sins.
Shay, unable to help himself, chortled softly in her ear.
“Higueputa,” she huffed. “Are you…laughing about this?”
He should’ve punished her, at least a little, for the snip. Instead, he closed his eyes, reveling in how she summoned such sass with his cock and three fingers still inside her. It was no surprise that she had him almost hard enough to fuck her again. She gave him such incredible pleasure—bested only by the hunger to give her more, too.
With a decisive grunt, he stilled her hips with a shove of his. Then, letting his breath fill her ear and his cock grow in her tunnel, he lowered his hand from her mons to her pussy. And gave just one swipe of his middle finger to the most sensitive hub of her need.
Zoe, being his perfect little submissive, screamed for him. Over and over and over again.
Many minutes later, as her breathing calmed and the last shivers of her orgasm faded, he finally pulled free and turned her over, accepting the conclusion that fucking her again wouldn’t be a wise move. Even a pushover like Justine would have limits for a guy’s time on some recreational pump-and-dump with a hostage. Still, he took a long moment to brush the damp hair from her dark eyes, lower a soft kiss on her delectable lips, and tell her through a smirk, “Baby girl, now I’m laughing.”
Chapter Twelve
Zoe didn’t hesitate to haul back her free arm and punch the sexy chindago in the muscled meat of his shoulder. The move was more to save face though she wasn’t sure what “face” she had left, considering how he’d just turned her into the sexual version of a triple-fried egg. After he pretended deep pain, making her hit him again, he dissolved into more laughter. She gave up and joined him, recognizing he probably hadn’t had a lot of chances to indulge even a snicker in the last six months. Her heart filled with warm gratitude, honored to be the one to bring him a little respite in his life.
And then his radio squawked.
“Burnett!” The voice was a little garbled but she recognized it as one of Shay’s “buddies” from the hijacking, the soldier with the gritty voice and the gaze that gave her the creeps. “Pull your dick out of that bitch and join us in quadrant six. We’ve cracked the code and we’re back on program with the good shit.”
So much for respites.
Shay’s gaze gained some new shadows, too. She chastised herself for feeling giddy about that. Was it possible that he comprehended it all, too? The primal power in the air whenever they stepped near each other…did he feel it, as well? And the pull of their bodies to each other, like they were magnets only able to fuse to one another…and the coils of their souls, only activated by their entwined hands and their crushed mouths…
No. You’ve gone cracked, Zo. Even crazy. Remember? You said it yourself, right here, and Shay nodded. He agreed. Remember where the hell you are, and what’s happening right outside that door. You think he’s pondering tangled souls with you, when the scary side of “crazy” is waiting for his return?
Thunder boomed overhead. A flash desert storm. Appropriate, considering the flood of perception that crashed through her at the same time.
Danger. It wasn’t just a dramatic word in his life. It was a real entity, waiting to bite him in the ass or worse. Stock and his men weren’t just playing around at the soldier boy thing. Whatever the hell they were here to retrieve, they were serious as hell about it, enough to steal a jetliner, shoot a man’s knee out, and keep fifteen dancers behind as hostages, too.
As she watched Shay rise and reach for a towel to clean himself up, she couldn’t fight a tremor of intense fear. Even as he smirked at her again, making some wise-ass comment about how it was her fault he had to stuff a nearly erect cock back into his cargo pants, she couldn’t force herself to return a smile.
Shay’s grin faded, too. His thick hair fell against his frowning brow, turning his gorgeous humor into rugged beauty that wrenched at her heart—and tugged at her tears. He was so stunning. So strong. So unspeakably brave. She dropped her head, unable to stomach the idea of him returning to those evil cabróns.
“Dancer? You okay?” His concern only made her torment worse. As the mattress dipped from his weight, the tears came harder. Zoe tried to sniff them back but they fell anyway, plopping onto the hand he curled over hers.
“Shit,” she whispered.
Shay snarled it at the same moment, though the word was barely off his lips before he pulled her up and cradled her tight against him. “Dammit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”
“Huh?” She pushed back to fire a glower at him, along with a question that was more accusation. “Why?”
“You need hours of after care, and I can only give you minutes.”
His tender tone drew her to bury her face into his chest again. Mierda, it was such a nice chest. She pressed closer, treasuring the thumps of his heartbeat. As she absorbed the strength of the sound, she smiled in deep peace—
Just before inspiration zapped it to hell.
She kept her face down, certain Shay would instantly translate her thoughts. She wasn’t even sure about acting on them. It was one thing to be inspired but another thing to sell him on the concept.
She had to think fast. Playing on his guilt was a fairly direct route. But could she deal that dirty?
“Meh,” she murmured, taking advantage of the chance to sniffle into his shoulder. “Just get me to the nearest sports bar and we’ll call it aftercare, all right?”
An angry rumble vibrated out of him. “No goddamn bars for aftercare.”
Well, that answered her question. She had no trouble at all with the dirty work. But right now, as desperate as it sounded, she’d do anything to stay at his side. Giving herself so deeply to him…it had felt like finding refuge in a mountain cavern after walking through a storm. But now a bulldozer named Cameron Stock wanted to tear her mountain away—or worse. If the man learned the truth beneath Shay’s cover, he’d think nothing of pulling out his handy pistol, jamming it to Shay’s skull, and firing away.
She shuddered in horror. Just as fast, she castigated herself for it. Damn. She was officially torn between the Zoe who’d sworn off weakness during puberty and the Zoe who’d newly discovered Shay’s remorse-is-ruin button.
But the thought of him lying on the ground, his brains blown into the dirt, swayed her battle in seconds. She gripped his neck and burrowed harder into him.
“Then take me with you.”
Shay’s hand went still on her head. His neck stiffened beneath her fingers. “Christ. I really did fuck your brains out.”
She huffed. “Listen, I’m not going to sit helplessly in some back room while you—”
“No.”
“Shay!”
“No.”
“Do you even want to hear my idea? How I can actually help you out here?”
He pulled away enough for her to catch the skeptical jump of his brows. “This should be good.”
“You could pretend I gave you a shitload of trouble, so you decided to tie me up and take me to hostage holding yourself. Go all one-twue-d
om on Justine again. She’ll buy every second of it. Once we’re past her, you can put me down. I’ll smuggle out some of those medical scrubs under my shirt, then can change into them.” When his glower hardened to the texture of pounded gold, she twisted her hand in the front of his shirt. “You’re here because you think this is where Stock is keeping your mom, right? Seems like a big place, mi amigo. You could probably use help. Another set of eyes?”
Shay expelled a weighted breath. “How long have you been concocting this?”
She bit her lip. “Long enough.”
He dropped his head, studying her more closely. “You’re an experienced dancer, right, Zoe? Then you of all people should know that half-assed planning makes for shitty execution.”
She slid a hand to the sharp line of his jaw. “Or a surprise of brilliance.”
“Cameron Stock doesn’t like surprises. Just ask the guy from the plane who’s missing a kneecap now.” He wrapped his fingers around hers, closed his eyes for a long second, then bent his head deeper into her hold. “Cam was telling the truth this morning, too. He was feeling benevolent, which was why the dumb shit didn’t get that bullet between his eyes, instead.” He reopened his gaze. “The man’s not feeling benevolent anymore, baby girl.”
“But he doesn’t even have to see me,” Zoe protested.
As he lowered her hand back to her lap, there was a reluctant edge to his slow movements. “This isn’t a movie, Zoe.” His voice was grim. “We’re in a top-secret facility that I barely know the exit routes from and even on that point, my intel is chicken feed at best. I hate doing this to you—”
“Then don’t.” Mierda. The man had her pouting. She never pouted.
“I have no choice, dammit. I’d rather endure your anger than your death, okay? And by the way, any other time or place, my palm would be branding your backside for that lip.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It would not be fun. That’s a guarantee.” Shay barely let her process the strange combination of shivers and tingles from that before scooping a finger beneath her chin and tugging sharply. “Listen to me, dammit. Obey me, Zoe. The safest plan for you right now is to let Justine take you back to your friends.”
