Duke: Alpha One Security: Book 3

by Jasinda Wilder

  “And that would be what?” I even managed to sound sarcastic; go me.

  “Fighting,” he murmured, pushing into me slowly. “And fucking,” he said this on the withdrawal.

  “I see.”

  His hands, up until this moment, had been braced on the counter on either side of me. Now, he slid them up my body to cup my breasts. With his cock inside me and his deep, powerful voice resonating in my ear, every last part of me was hypersensitive, so the brush of his rough palms over my breasts left me quivering and gasping.

  The gasps turned into a sudden, surprised shriek as he pulled back in the same slow rhythm and then, without warning, slammed into me hard and fast. I was bounced backward on the counter, my tits jiggling as he drilled home hard enough to lift me off the counter.

  “I don’t think you do see,” he said. “I bet you think I’m fucking you right now.”

  His cock drove in, pulled back, drove in, and with each thrust I wobbled and toppled closer and closer to orgasm, each drive of his dick pushing me higher and higher.

  There was no mistaking how close I was to orgasm. I mean, it’s not hard; I’m not a difficult woman to read in that regard. I get all flushed, my cheeks turn bright red, my skin breaks out in a sweat, my pussy tightens, and I lose all ability to not make stupid porn star sounds—ohhhh, oh yeah, fuck yeah, oh my god, oh god fuck me harder, breathy erotic crap like that. Plus I’m a whimperer. I don’t usually scream, but I do a lot of gasping and shrieking and whimpering. Funny thing is, out of the dozens of men I’ve fucked, only three have ever made me come during actual intercourse, and I think all three instances were flukes.

  This?

  This was intentional. Duke knew exactly what he was doing. Each thrust was designed to push me closer. He changed his angle, the force and speed, the depth, so I never knew what I’d get, how he’d thrust into me, and the not knowing was driving me mad, in the best possible way. And then his hands cupped my tits, and his fingers pinched my nipples, and his breath blew warm on my neck, his waist gliding against my thighs.

  I’d had my eyes closed as he fucked me to orgasm, but now, now I had to open my eyes. I had to watch as his cock pushed into me. My pussy was stretched so tight, and his cock was so huge, disappearing into me and pulling out. It seemed impossible that I could take all of it, but I did. And it was unbearably hot watching his cock slide into my pussy, watching his face shift expressions as he fucked me.

  “You’re…oh god…you’re not fucking me?” I asked.

  His grin was feral. “Not even close. I’m just getting you ready.”

  “It looks like you’re fucking me, and it feels like you’re fucking me.”

  “This isn’t fucking, Fancy.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I just said. I’m getting you ready.”

  “Ready?” I gasped as he thrust in three times in quick succession, short sharp battering thrusts that knocked me to the shuddering brink of climax. “Ready for what?”

  He leaned closer, his face inches from mine, his eyes hot and fierce and wild, arrogance and lust warring in his gaze. “For this.”

  Duke’s mouth crashed against mine with sudden, bruising force, his tongue claiming my mouth as his with ferocious dominance. I had no chance of resisting the kiss. All I could do was succumb, give in, be kissed senseless. His fingers found the elastic band holding my hair in place and tugged it free, yanking the bobby pins out, and then my hair was falling loose around my shoulders in a blonde cascade. The moment my hair was free, he wrapped it around his fist to control my head, and with my hands bound behind my back and his cock driving into me, I was…utterly helpless. I should have hated it. I should have been furious, or terrified. Instead, the helplessness, the fury and the mastery of his kiss…drove me over the edge.

  I broke the kiss to throw my head back and shriek on a gasping intake of breath, the climax starting low and deep.

  He pulled out of me as I began coming, leaving me aching and crazed and desperate. “NO! Duke, no! Please, please, god please keep fucking me!”

  There was no sarcasm that time, no attitude, only raw desperation, genuine begging.

  The climax lost its edge as I lost the stretching fullness of his cock inside me, as I lost the stimulation.

  Duke dropped to his knees between my thighs, grinning up at me. “Beg harder, Fancy.” He touched his tongue to my clit, and a zing of heat blasted through me.

  “Fuck—oh fuck, Duke, please.” I met his gaze, let him see how real I was. “Give it to me, Duke. I—I need to come. Please, please.”

  As I breathed the final plea, he buried his face between my thighs and drove his tongue into my pussy and dragged it up to my clit, and I arched my back and gasped.

  “Like that?” He breathed.

  “Yeah, except shut up and keeping going.”

  He laughed, but dove back in, and this time slid three fingers into my slit as he latched onto my clit. Two quick thrusts of his fingers, one hard suck around my clit, and I was gone. My feet planted on his shoulders, my head and neck braced against the cabinet behind me, my thighs falling apart, my head tipping back, a stacatto series of shrieks ripping out of me as he worked my exploding orgasm into a frenzy. His fingers pumped in and out of my channel, and his tongue lashed my clit in a furious onslaught of side-to-side movements, drawing my shrieks into breathless gasps. He shifted tactics then, slowing his fingers, curling them against me high inside, massing some point just behind my clit inside my pussy, his mouth suctioning around my clit, his tongue moving in slow circles.

  The abrupt change of pace and tactic should have ruined the orgasm, but somehow it didn’t, instead made me come all the harder. I was struggling against the shirt binding my wrists, thrashing against him, hips pumping, shrieking and gasping as he ate my pussy with such skill that I couldn’t seem to stop coming, could only continue thrashing, orgasming, wave after wave wrenched out of me.

  “Untie me,” I whispered, as soon as I was capable of speech. “Please. Let me touch you.”

  “If you can talk, you’re not coming hard enough.”

  He stood up, lifted me off the counter with one arm under my knees and the other around my shoulders. Half a dozen steps, and we were at the futon. I was tipped backward, his face over mine, his lips glistening with my essence. He set me down and then stood in front of me, his cock erect and still wet from being inside me.

  “Lick me,” he ordered. “Taste your pussy on my cock.”

  And, like the desperate slut I was, I obeyed him. I leaned forward, hands still bound behind me, and licked up the side of his cock, tasting my pussy mingling with the salt of his skin.

  “You want me to untie you?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  My orgasm was subsiding now, aftershocks shuddering though me.

  “Lay down on the futon.”

  I moved to lie down as instructed, head by one armrest, feet at the other. He wedged one of his legs between me and the back of the futon and kept the other on the floor, then bent over me, tugged my leg aside, and licked my pussy, once, slowly. His cock was over my face, hard, sticky from my pussy, begging for me.

  “Suck my cock, Temple.” Another command.

  And, yet again, I did what he told me. I wanted to, though. That was the only reason. I’m not the type to let myself be ordered around by anyone. I’ve walked out on executive producers who thought they could order me around. Some guy thinks he can tell me what to do? Hell no. But Duke…I had no control over my reactions. He commanded me to take his cock into my mouth, and so….

  I lifted up and captured his cock with my mouth, took him to the back of my throat, and then sank back down, tilting him away from his body so I could slide my mouth up his cock from tip to root. His mouth was on my pussy, his tongue moving, his lips kissing, as if he was making out with my vagina. Slow, thorough. Pushing me from subsiding aftershocks to writhing as another climax welled up inside me, and this time the hums and moans and gasps were muffled by
the thick salty musky tang of his cock in my mouth, nudging the back of my throat as I lifted my face up toward his body, taking him deeper each time.

  Whatever magic it was he had over my body worked again, bringing me to orgasm within a couple minutes, making me shudder and writhe, struggling to free my hands, orgasming, and sucking his cock all at the same time. I was lost to the experience, totally committed. No holding back. I felt him push past the back of my throat as I lifted up, groaning around him as I shuddered and writhed and came, and then I had to open my throat as he went deeper, my breath snorting out of my nose he filled my throat. Too much, too much—and then he was gone, pulling out of my mouth as if sensing what I needed before I even had a chance to make a sound.

  I felt his hand under me, moving, pulling at the shirt, and then my wrists were free and he was tossing the shirt across the room. Instantly, my hands flew out to clutch his cock, stroking, plunging, caressing, feeling my own saliva slick on his shaft, still moaning as wave after wave of my second climax shattered through me, rendering me helpless to do anything then except hold onto his erection and shriek and gasp and come.

  He devoured me through it, licking and suckling every last shred of orgasm out of me, until I was limp and gasping.

  And then he stood up. “That’s two orgasms in ten minutes, princess.”

  I was still panting, shuddering, thighs trembling from aftershocks. “What?”

  “Our deal?”

  My brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders just yet. “Deal?”

  He leaned down over me, and I smelled my pussy on his breath. I didn’t mind it—my pussy smelled pretty good, if I say so myself, and when he kissed me earlier, I tasted myself on his mouth, which also wasn’t unpleasant. “You go down on me, I go down on you. If you come more than once, I decide what we do next.”

  “Oh.” I stared up at him. “So…what are we doing next?”

  I wasn’t sure what to expect. Anal? Another BJ? I wasn’t even sure what I wanted.

  “Stand up.” His voice was low and quiet, but still a very clear command.

  One which, yet again, I was powerless to refuse. So I stood up, and Duke took my place on the futon.

  “Fuck me,” he ordered. “Ride me until we both come.”

  “Condom?”

  He quirked an eyebrow and reached for me, pulled me closer. “I was just bare inside you.”

  “That was a mistake,” I said, resisting his pull, both literal and metaphorical.

  He shook his head. “Fancy, you think I’d have done that if I wasn’t clean?”

  “How do you know I’m clean and protected?”

  “I don’t.”

  I shook my head. “Then you’re an idiot.”

  “A very, very careful idiot,” he said. “You’re the only girl I’ve done anything like this with, ever. I’m safe, always. But you…you make me crazy. This whole thing…it’s fucking crazy.”

  “I’m always safe too, but…”

  “My boss makes us all get tested for just about everything, STD and otherwise, on a regular basis, since we’re overseas so much. I’ve got years worth of clean reports I can show you.”

  “I believe you,” I said. “But still…condom?”

  “Tell me why. The truth.”

  I blinked at him for a moment, and then felt the truth bubbling out of me. “I don’t want to deal with the mess, for one.”

  “And?”

  I sighed. “And…you feel too good bare inside me.”

  “So what?” I hesitated, and he reached out, grabbed me by the hips, and pulled me closer. “Tell me why that matters.”

  “I don’t want to like you. I don’t want this to feel so fucking good. This whole thing, it’s…it’s nuts.” I resisted his efforts to pull me closer yet. “Yeah, I may do one night stands, but I’m usually tipsy enough to not care. I don’t do…this, not sober. I don’t—everything we’ve done, it’s crazy, and it’s not me. You’re breaking all my rules, and letting you fuck me bare…that’s too far.”

  He eyed me for a long moment. I was standing between his thighs, his cock standing flat against his belly, my hands on his knees. I was seconds from betraying myself, from saying fuck it and climbing on him, sliding that fantastic, talented cock of his inside me and fucking him until we both came.

  I even had images of that dancing in my head, his hands on my hips lifting me, pulling me down on him, his bare cock sheathing into my core, my tits bouncing, hair flying.

  He nodded, breaking my mental fantasy. “I can respect that.” He stood up, pushed past me. “Then I guess we wait.”

  I blinked, stunned. “Wait…what?” I turned and watched him disappear into the gun room and return with his shorts in hand. “That’s a deal breaker for you? Are you for real?”

  He stepped into his shorts, his massive erection making it difficult for him to zip and button. “No, it’s not a deal-breaker, I just don’t keep condoms here.”

  I frowned. “You…you don’t?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. This is a stash spot and safe house. I’ve never brought anyone here. Not even my boss knows this place exists.” His gaze met mine. “So, no condom, no sex. I get it, and I respect it.”

  “But, I—”

  He moved to stand in front of me. “Unless you’re changing your mind?”

  I wavered, and then mentally cursed myself for being stupid. “No.” I forced the word out. “No, I’m not changing my mind.”

  “Then we’ll wait.” He cupped the back of my neck, pulled me close; he was still hard as a rock inside his shorts. “When we finally do get to fuck…it’s gonna be intense, Fancy. You better believe that.”

  “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” I glanced down at his erection, tenting his shorts.

  “Yep. But it’ll go away eventually.” He ground himself against me. “Unless you’re volunteering to help me out?”

  I shouldn’t. I’d get carried away. But I knew what frustration felt like, what it felt like to be aroused and horny and have no way of alleviating it.

  His erection looked painful.

  And he had given me not one but two orgasms in a row, which was more than any man had given me in one day…well…ever, probably.

  “You’re not saying no.” He sounded bemused. “Means you’re considering it.”

  “Would you stop me?”

  He snorted. “Hell no. Princess, if you want to help me out with this monster hard-on, I sure as fuck ain’t gonna stop you. I won’t ask you to, but I won’t stop you either.”

  “It would only be fair. You did make me come twice.”

  He laughed. “Babe, ain’t no such thing as fair in this life. I don’t give a shit about fair.” He lost all trace of humor then. “I don’t keep track, and I don’t do things to be fair or equal. We get a hold of some condoms, Fancy, honey, I plan on fucking you into a stupor. I plan on making you come so many times you’ll lose count, and I won’t expect you to do shit in return. That’s not what sex is about. It’s not about things being fair, or who gets off first, or most, or hardest. It’s about making each other feel good. That’s how this works, for me. So don’t make this about shit being fair or whatever.”

  “I just—”

  “Be honest with yourself about why you’d be helping me out.”

  Why would I do this?

  Because he makes me horny, that’s why. Because his cock is a thing of beauty, and I can’t get enough. I’d had him in my mouth, had him in my hands, even had him in pussy for a far too short amount of time. And I wanted more. I didn’t care if it was fair. I didn’t want to help him out with his erection because I really cared about him being uncomfortable, although it did look painful to be so hard. I also knew it would go away after awhile…he’d even said so himself. No, the reason I wanted to help him out was for me. It would be for me. Because I wanted it. Because I wanted him—damn his stupid gorgeous self.

  I groaned, and then hooked my finger in the waistband of his shorts and led him toward the ba
throom. I shoved him in ahead of me.

  “Sit,” I commanded.

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Oooh, getting bossy. I like it.” He sat on the closed lid of the toilet. “Now what, mistress Temple?”

  I glared at him. “Now you shut up.” I reached for him, unzipped his shorts, flipped open the button, and his cock sprang free. “No talking, no moving, no touching. Just sit there and watch.”

  “Yes ma’am.” His grin was eager, arrogant, and willing.

  5: BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS

  Well good god and hot damn, this girl was insatiable

  Like…holy motherfucking hell, she’s such a complicated, gorgeous, insatiable, difficult, wild little piece of ass.

  But no, she’s not just a piece of ass—don’t be a dick, Duke: she’s way more. She’s class, but she’s also open about the fact that she likes sex, and that she has a lot of it. I like that. I get judged a lot for being a self-proclaimed manwhore, even some the guys on the team—except Thresh—sort of shoot me side-eye sometimes when they watch me bang a different chick every night of the week, and sometimes more than one in a night. Temple would get that. She wouldn’t judge me for it, just like I don’t judge her for it.

  She’s fucking difficult, though. Like, I want to assume she’s just another rich spoiled celebrity chick with more looks and money than sense or personality. I also want to assume she’s down for just about anything, that we can just bang and be done, like we’re both used to. But it’s obvious both of those assumptions would be wrong. The blowjob she gave me earlier was, as I told her, the hottest I’d ever gotten, but it was because it was unpracticed, a little clumsy. She wasn’t sure of what she was doing, obviously didn’t do it a lot, as she admitted. But she took care of my cock with an eagerness and even an affection that I hadn’t expected and didn’t know how to handle. She enjoyed it. Not because I was so delusional to think she got some kind of weird sexual rush from it, but because she liked doing it, for reasons I couldn’t begin to fathom. It was…fucking hot. Everything she did was fucking hot as hell, and it drove me nuts. Like, I just don’t get her. Why she does what she does, why she says the things she says. I don’t get her resistance to this. All we’re doing is fucking. Neither of us expected anything more than casual sex, good old no-strings-attached fucking.