From the way his eyes lit, she knew he was enjoying the erotic show. She did as well, right up until the playful quality failed to keep her from approaching orgasm. She gasped, and changed the way she moved. She snapped her hips sharply. However, with the thickness of his cock stretching her vaginal tissues, no part of her could hide from the friction that would propel her over the edge.
Lukas was so fucking evil.
“Please,” she whispered as his thumb ministered to her swollen clit. “Daddy, please don’t be cruel.”
“I am cruel, Firebrand. I love driving you to this point, pushing you farther than you think you can go, and then punishing you for misbehaving.”
Her movements slowed, but the first flutters of her pussy signaled it was too late. Nothing was going to stop her orgasm now.
He chuckled, the sound low and full of cruel delight. “You want me to spank you. You crave being taken in hand, Firebrand, and I’m going to do whatever you need to make that happen for you.”
Brandy had not enjoyed the last spanking, but his melodic tone promised riches beyond imagining, and it was his voice, not his words, that provided the erotic push she needed. Tension gathered too tightly, and then it snapped, catapulting her to the stratosphere. She cried out, and her body stiffened.
He sat up, holding her as she trembled with the aftermath of her orgasm. Stroking her damp hair away from her sweaty temple, he pressed a kiss there. “Did you enjoy that, Firebrand?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her chest heaved as she tried to remember how to breathe. “You have a magic dick. I can’t seem to avoid orgasm when it’s inside me.”
He lifted her, easing her off his magic dick. Then he set her down across his lap with her ass in the air. Still trembling from the aftermath of a huge climax, Brandy was too weak to protest or move.
This was happening, and she was too relaxed to be nervous or afraid.
“These beautiful, round cheeks are a luscious invitation, Firebrand. I think you’re going to get a lot of spankings.” He arranged the pillows behind him, and he scooted back to get comfortable. He positioned her knees against his thigh, which lifted her ass, and he widened her stance, which exposed her glistening and swollen pussy, still throbbing with pleasure.
Then she felt his palm caress her ass, and her pussy only spasmed harder.
“This is going to hurt, Firebrand. I’m going to leave handprints all over this beautiful ass.” He dragged his palm lower. “And these thighs. So pale. My handprint is going to look really nice there.” Then he sank one finger into her pussy. “And here. I’m going to spank your pussy because it was wicked and stole an orgasm from me.”
Having sparred with any number of agents and bad guys, she knew she could take a beating and get back up. She gathered the coverlet under her chest and head to make a pillow. “I’m ready.”
“And then I’m going to fuck you, Firebrand. I’m going to come inside this naughty pussy.”
Now she inhaled a ragged breath. “Oh, yes, Daddy. Please do.”
He swatted her once, too light to make an impression. This was the warm-up. Knowing how these things worked, she relaxed into it.
He hit a few more times, too gently to leave a handprint, but firm enough so that she felt it. When he began in earnest, she understood the difference. That first time, he hadn’t hit her this hard. He’d mostly used shock and fear to get his point across.
The small sounds of pleasure she’d been making melted as she yelped. She bucked, and he countered by throwing a leg over hers to pin her in place, and he pressed his free hand against her lower back.
The blows had to sting his hand as much as they stung her ass, but he didn’t seem to notice the heat or the burn. Curiously, it didn’t hurt. If anything, her body was providing a heat conduit directly to her pussy. After at time, he stopped.
He hauled her up until she was on her knees before him, and he regarded her with sober gravity and a bit of a frown. “Firebrand, have you learned your lesson?”
She regarded him with not an ounce of contrition. “Probably not. I like orgasms too much, and it seems I like being spanked by you. So, outlook not so good on that front.”
Myriad thoughts flitted through the shock in his eyes. Perhaps he’d tie her up and torture her by withholding orgasm, or maybe he’d use a belt or paddle next time. Since he hadn’t packed any of those things, she wasn’t in immediate danger of experiencing those things.
A huge smile stretched his lips. He picked her up again, and this time he placed her on her hands and knees. In one stroke, he sank into her drenched hole. He gripped her hips in his large hands and fucked her with quick strokes. This was for him, not for her.
Still, he filled her vagina and hammered against her sweet spot. It seemed he couldn’t miss even when he wanted to. She’d take it. Sounds of pleasure poured from deep in her chest. She buried her face in the covers as a climax tore through her with the force of multiple tornadoes. Her pussy contracted hard, milking a climax from him. He thrust deeper, harder, and his shout shook the rafters. Well, it would have if they had rafters.
No doubt her buddies in the room across the hall or next to them heard it.
He fell next to her, his chest rising and falling in the frantic rhythm of his climax. She was already on her stomach, and she was too spent to move. After a few moments, she crawled closer. Her face rested on his chest, and her body curled into his.
Tears wet her face, and she sobbed against him.
His arms came around her, a sanctuary in a storm she hadn’t anticipated. Rather than shush her, he made soothing noises and stroked her hair as he held her. As the sobs subsided, she shivered, and he tucked the covers around them.
“Daddy’s got you, little one. You’re safe. Daddy’s here.”
She clung to him. “I’ve never cried after sex before. I’m not a crier.”
He chuckled. “I know. Your first instinct is to plot a way to fight back and win. If that doesn’t work, you get angry and fight harder. You’re accustomed to getting your way.”
“I do like to win,” she sniffled. “I’m good at it.”
His only comment was a kiss. His lips brushed against hers in a tender expression of emotion and a promise fulfilled.
She settled back against him, snuggling her cheek against his chest. “I didn’t win today, did I?”
“It’s not about winning and losing. You surrendered.”
In her world, surrender meant losing. She chewed her lip as she came to terms with losing.
As if he knew the caliber of her thoughts, he sighed. “Surrender isn’t losing; it’s trusting someone else enough to give yourself to them. You gave yourself to me, Firebrand. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
She liked his sentiment, but she wasn’t sure she cared to cry in front of anyone, even him. “Doesn’t explain the crying.”
“You’re not used to opening yourself up to another person, to laying yourself bare and being vulnerable.” He pressed one of those kisses to her forehead, the kind that made her forget everything except him. It made her feel safe and cherished. “Thank you for trusting me enough to let down your guard, Firebrand. I promise to always treasure this gift.”
Chapter 10
While Lukas checked out of the hotel, Brandy pleaded her bladder, and she met Jed in the restroom.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Jed Kinsley,” she whispered as she hugged him back.
He was, in fact, a beautiful man. Smart, able to adapt to whatever life threw his way, and thoughtful, he’d been the heart of her crew. Tall, dark, and built, he’d fallen in love a year ago and now lived as part of a triad with his girlfriend, Tru, and Liam Adair, the tech genius member of her team.
“So are you, Chief. Are you ready to pull the plug on this crazy scheme yet?” He released her, but he kept his hands on her arms as if he needed the physical contact to remind himself she was real.
“We’ve barely started,” she scoffed. “How did the raid go?”
“S
till counting up, but last update said three hundred arrested, and they found intel on three more centers. Raids are being planned around the country.” He beamed. They’d worked long and hard to get this far.
Brandy nodded. “I don’t have much to report. We’re headed to Arizona, and Lukas checked in under the name Ross. I’m sure you guys got all that already, though.”
“Ben Ross is a billionaire real estate developer. He has his hands in a lot of pots. Organized crime has been watching him for a possible RICO, but they haven’t been able to find enough to make a move. He walks the line, for sure.”
He didn’t have to tell her that Ben Ross’s name hadn’t been on their radar. She knew the case files inside and out, as they all did. This new lead was already invaluable.
“He has a compound outside of Tucson. It’s a fifty-thousand acre fortress. My guess? That’s where you’re headed.”
“Lukas wasn’t kidding about this being a big deal.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re in, Jed. We’re finally going to get this done.”
“Ross has powerful friends, Chief. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park. We’ve already had pushback from Washington.” Worry creased Jed’s brow.
Brandy had suspected as much. Nobody hid as well as The Eye without help from powerful allies. She’d cleaned house, but she hadn’t eradicated all the vermin. “I’m glad you guys have my back.”
“Speaking of having your back.” Jed leaned closer. “Brandy, you don’t have to go this deep under. We put a tracker on his SUV. We can plant a listening device in his stuff, and you can get the hell out of there.”
She cupped Jed’s face, resting her fingertips on each of his cheeks. “He’s a good person, Jed, and he knows a lot. I’m going to flip him. I want you to see what kind of deal you can get for him.”
“You know, when you develop feelings for your captor, it’s called Stockholm Syndrome.”
“He was never willingly my captor. He’s already offered me a way out twice, and he said that offer stands until we get to Arizona. After that, there’s no going back.”
Jed pulled out his phone and opened the photo gallery. “I want to show you what he does for The Eye. I feel like you need some perspective.”
She set a hand over the screen and pushed it back toward him. “I know what he does. He’s a fixer. Whenever something doesn’t go to plan, he’s the muscle that comes in and cleans house.” While she had absolutely no proof, and Lukas had steadfastly refused to talk about what he did, she knew enough about how organized crime worked to guess. Lukas was allowed more freedom, and though Yoseff and Karter had been passive-aggressive in the way they’d pushed, they’d known not to mess directly with Lukas. If he didn’t have a heavy-hitting job, they wouldn’t have been afraid of him.
“You say that like he’s washing floors, not like he’s a murderer. We’ve linked his trips to a number of dead bodies. He kills people, Brandy, and if you cross him, he will kill you.”
She shook her head, refusing Jed’s assertion. She couldn’t reconcile the man she knew with the killer Jed described. Though he followed the evidence and spoke from experience, she wanted him to be wrong. She wanted them both to be wrong. “There’s more to the story than you or I know, and I aim to find out what that is. In the meantime, you have your orders.” She turned to leave, but he caught her arm.
“Your parents aren’t taking this well.”
With her eyes, she shot daggers into Jed’s heart. “Low blow, Kinsley.”
“Your dad is in the hospital. He had a heart attack.”
It was her fault. She’d stressed him out by being kidnapped, and her decision not to return was the final straw. She felt her blood drain from her skin, and she struggled to reject the blame for this development. “He’s going to be okay, right?”
“They’re giving him beta blockers.”
“Okay, so it’s covered.” She sounded heartless, but she wasn’t. Her father had objected to her career path from the day she announced she was joining the army. She had a degree in Criminal Justice, but she’d wanted military experience before joining first the CIA, and later the FBI. “Give them all my love, Reid and Kennedy as well.” She glanced toward the door. “I need to get going. Lukas already thinks I spend too much time in public restrooms. I don’t need for him to get suspicious.”
She squeezed Jed’s arm again and left.
Lukas waited on a sofa in the lobby. He’d already pulled the car around. He rose when he saw her, a smile on his face. “I was about to come in and see if you needed help.” He kissed her cheek and guided her outside.
“Can I drive?” After her conversation with Jed, she felt the need to cut loose—for so many reasons.
“Sure.” He handed over the keys and helped her into the driver’s seat. While she adjusted it to fit her shorter stature, he climbed into the passenger seat. “It’s nice to be spoiled like this.”
She laughed and navigated her way back to the freeway. Snow mounds exceeded four feet, blocking sidewalks and narrowing lanes, and city removal teams loaded snow into trucks for removal. She wove neatly between trucks and slower cars.
“I see what you meant about driving for NASCAR.” He rubbed his head as he peered out the windshield.
“I haven’t gone above fifty yet,” she said. “We’re still in heavy traffic.”
“Everybody else is doing thirty.”
“Are you trying to make a comment about women drivers, Mr. Xuereb?”
“How many accidents have you been in?”
Brandy had been in collisions, but none of those had been accidents. “Zero.”
“Is that because you don’t own a car and you don’t drive?”
“Fuck off.” She laughed. While she couldn’t tell him the plethora of stories about her history terrifying passengers, she could joke with him and steer him to safer ground. “Danica Patrick is my hero.”
“Please tell me you were never a valet.”
At that, she snorted. “I’ve had a lot of different jobs. Some involved driving, and none involved accidents.”
Right now she was being good. She was going slower than she would have liked and not passing cars as quickly as she usually did. That wasn’t for Lukas; it was for whoever was following her, probably Liam and Jed. If they were working the way she expected, Avery and Jordan would be preparing to fly to Arizona and get the necessary permissions for her to continue her operation there.
“So—Xuereb. What kind of name is that?” Her high school friend with that name had been Palestinian.
“Maltese. My father was half Maltese and half Libyan, as far as I know.”
She glanced over. They hadn’t discussed his family. She only knew the intel Jordan had passed to her. “Are you an orphan like me?”
“My parents are both gone. My dad passed when I was fourteen, and my mom joined him three years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you close with your mother?”
“Yes. She was Colombian, and family was everything to her.”
Something about the way he said it hinted that family was also everything to him. She reached over and squeezed his wrist.
He put her hand back on the steering wheel. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I’d feel a lot better if you kept both hands on the wheel. You’re a scary driver, and I’d like to survive this experience.”
“Tell me more about your mom. What was she like?”
“She was a lot like you—headstrong, stubborn, full of fiery spirit.”
“You realize that’s all the same thing, right? She had a passionate nature. That’s good. She might have liked me.”
He laughed, a deep-down expression of utter joy. “Yes, Firebrand. She would have loved you. The two of you would have agreed on many things, and your disagreements would have been epic.”
She didn’t miss how he’d elevated her to a status even with his mother. Because he had a high opinion of her, it meant a lot. “Did you disagree with her a lot?”
“No. We agreed on most things. I was a good son, always there to fix things around the house or take her to a doctor’s appointment. The biggest thing we fought about was my brother.”
Brandy encouraged him to continue. “Yeah? I didn’t know you had a brother. What did he do that made you fight with your mom?”
“He did drugs. It killed him. I helped him get sober a few times, but in the end, the pull of addiction was too strong. My mom thought I was being too hard on him. He would lie to her, and she very badly wanted to believe he was clean. I knew better. He overdosed, and she died the day after his funeral.”
If she weren’t driving, Brandy would have thrown her arms around him. She looked over to find him gazing into the distance, lost in his painful memories.
She wove through traffic heading out of the city, expertly passing slower cars. “Is that why you ended up at Redemption Center?”
Her question seemed to pull him from the malaise settling over him. He sat up straighter. “Yeah. Hey, Brandy? The speed limit here is seventy.”
“I’m only going eighty. This SUV is a four-cylinder. Not much power behind it.”
“Slow down to seventy. You are to go no faster than the speed limit unless you have expressed permission from me. If there are three lanes, stay in the middle lane. If there are two, stay to the right except to pass slower traffic. And by ‘slower,’ I mean trucks going under the speed limit.”
She gaped at his crazy talk. “What are you, a cop?”
“No, Firebrand, but if we attract the attention of the cops because you drive like Danica Patrick running from a house she just set on fire, then I’m going to blister your ass. You won’t sit comfortably for a week.” His tone remained low and steady, yet it was firm enough to communicate his utter displeasure at her driving technique.
She slowed and got over into the middle lane. “You said you wanted to make up the time we lost.”
“Firebrand, this is not open for discussion.”
She glanced over, a catlike smile curving her lips. “Well, if nothing else, I know what you’re afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid of the police. They’re an inconvenience, nothing more.”
Re/Deemed (Doms of the FBI Book 8) Page 12
