Guard (The Underground Book 3)

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Guard (The Underground Book 3) Page 14

by Becca Jameson


  She moaned, turning her head to one side.

  “It’s hot as hell.”

  She pursed her lips.

  He didn’t want to laugh again. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was laughing at her instead of with her. So, he controlled his instinct for now. “What I’m saying is I want your hands above your head and your legs open. It’s how I like to look at you. If you don’t think you can comply at any point, tell me to restrain you. I’ll never mind stopping to grab a rope or cuffs. But I will punish you if you don’t stay in this position and didn’t warn me you couldn’t control yourself any longer.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her knees jiggled. Her arousal was rising again.

  The power of knowing he did that with his commanding words meant the world to him. This was precisely what it was all about—making his woman feel the most pleasure possible and watching it unfold on her face.

  For some women, submission like this drove them wild. Thank God Haley was one of those women, because her obedience stiffened his cock further every second. The pressure was intense, but the release would be sweeter than sugar.

  “I’m nervous about being tied down,” she admitted.

  “Good girl. Always let me know what you’re thinking. Know this—I will never injure you. Not ever. I will never break your skin or cause you pain you can’t handle. I won’t leave you unattended at any point. And when I use ropes, most often you’ll be able to get them free easily with a little effort.

  “They’re not meant to endanger you but to remind you. If something’s wrapped around your wrists and you tug, your arms won’t budge, making you remember you weren’t meant to move them at that time.”

  “Okay, Sir.”

  “Now, I’ll ask again. Do you want me to restrain your arms?”

  “It might be a good idea, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He reached behind himself for the soft Velcro cuffs and showed them to her. “Velcro. Not easy to remove by yourself, but you can always maneuver your fingers to rip them open if necessary.”

  “Okay.” A twinge of fear shown in her wide eyes, but it was normal.

  He leaned over her sexy body and wrapped first one and then the other cuff around her wrists and then the bed. He intentionally attached them to the same rung so he could flip her over if he chose.

  There was too much give, so he grabbed her hips and tugged her body down the bed until her arms were almost straight with a slight bend at the elbow. This forced her chest high.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when the vulnerability sank in.

  Reading the signs, he knew that was all she could take in the restraint department tonight.

  “Are you wet?”

  She met his gaze. “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was soft, barely audible.

  “Why does that embarrass you?”

  She gritted her teeth before speaking. “I guess because it seems perverted of me to get more aroused the more you boss me around.”

  And that’s the answer he was looking for. “It’s submission, baby. You know that, right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Far more people than you realize enjoy submission. And what matters is that it gets you off. Have you ever been this turned on?”

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  “See?” He lifted a brow. “Let go of your preconceived notion that it’s wrong and just do what works. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She relaxed into the mattress a bit more.

  Goose bumps rose on her skin. He trailed a finger between her breasts and then back up to circle each nipple until they reached stiff peaks, pleading with him to touch them. “Your tits are amazing. Perfect.”

  Her head rolled to the side at the compliment.

  He smiled and then pinched the distended tips simultaneously.

  She arched her chest off the bed, moaning loudly.

  “You like that.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He let his hands trail down her body to her pussy again and scooted back enough to see clearly. “Spread your legs wider, baby. Lift your knees higher and let them fall open. I know it’s hard to expose yourself like that. But it also makes you so wet at the same time. Am I right?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, doing as he instructed. She shivered again.

  “I’d like to slap your clit once so you can feel what it’s like and stop worrying about it. It will sting, but the slight pain will be overshadowed by the pleasure racing through your body at the same time. I’ve heard there’s nothing like it.”

  Her lips parted, but she hesitated. “What if I don’t like it?”

  “Then I won’t do it again tonight. I won’t anyway, not without your permission. But give me the benefit of the doubt here. It’s just a tap. Your clit will jump back to life, and you’ll wish you could come.”

  She nodded.

  He smiled. “Words. This is important. Tell me what you’re agreeing to.” He’d never suggested something like this to any woman his first night with her, but Haley was different. He hoped he was reading her right and he would both rock her world while easing her fear at the same time.

  “You may slap my clit, Sir.” She dug her heels into the bed, her body stiffening.

  He wrapped his hands around her ankles and tugged them apart, forcing her to lose the traction. “Relax.” It wasn’t possible, but at least she wouldn’t be so stiff.

  Not wasting any time, he used one hand to pull the hood away from her clit, and snapped two fingers from his other hand over the swollen nub.

  She yelped, her knees coming together. But she quickly corrected herself.

  He wouldn’t mention the infraction under the circumstances.

  Her breathing was heavy and ragged.

  When he pulled her pussy lips apart, she was soaking wet. A line of moisture ran down from her pussy to her crack.

  Oh hell yes. She couldn’t deny liking the feeling.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Oh my God, Mikhail.”

  “Haley…” he warned. “Yes or no?”

  “Do it again.”

  He smiled and then repeated the action, lifting the hood back and striking her with two fingers in the same manner.

  This time she groaned but didn’t close her legs.

  “Again?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The third time, he swatted her clit but then let his fingers land back on the pinkened nub, pressing against it.

  She lifted her hips off the bed. “Fuck me. God, Mikhail. Please stop teasing me and fuck me. Hard. Now. I need you inside me.”

  He released her clit and leaned over her body, his hands landing beside her breasts. “Are you begging me, sweet girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “You used a lot of words to do so.” He couldn’t fight the smile lifting his mouth. Could she be any more perfect?

  “Then I guess you’ll lose count when you spank me. But fuck me first before I lose my mind.”

  Oh yeah. This woman was his in every way.

  He wasted no time grabbing a condom from behind him and rolling it on. And then he was at her entrance. “You’re going to come the second I enter you, aren’t you?”

  “Probably,” she admitted.

  “I haven’t even had a finger inside you.”

  “I’m so very aware of that…Sir.” She added that last word as if she weren’t in so much trouble already that it mattered.

  There was no way he would be able to punish her for this defiance, though. He’d met his match in every way. She would challenge him and keep his cock stiff at all hours of the day and night.

  He would spank her ass sometimes, but he knew all that would do would be to get her off. If he wanted her to suffer, he was going to have to come up with something else. Because this woman beneath him was hell on wheels.

  “Fuck me. Jesus, Mikhail, what are you waiting for?”

  He lined himself up with her entrance as she lifted to meet his cock. And then he met and held her gaze as he s
lammed in to the hilt.

  Her eyes glazed over. At least he thought they did before he lost his vision. As if he were spiraling down a long roller coaster that blinded him with its intensity, he tried to breathe. He closed his eyes as he adjusted to her warmth. The incredible tightness of her pussy. When was the last time she had sex?

  Jesus.

  When he blinked his eyes open, she was staring at him. “Move,” she commanded.

  He grinned and shook his head as he slowly pulled out of her until nothing but the tip was still lodged in her channel.

  “God… Haley… You’re so fucking tight.”

  “Yeah…” She tipped her head back and angled her hips so he was forced deeper.

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. “Gonna fuck you, baby. Hard.”

  “You keep promising that…”

  He chuckled, but it was cut short when he thrust back into her and then did it again. And again.

  Perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

  She fit him like a glove. And she dished out sass like a professional brat. Though she had no idea what that was, and he didn’t intend to tell her.

  His thought shattered as his cock stiffened further. He concentrated on nothing but her tight channel and the way she squeezed his cock with every pass.

  She was panting, but he was panting also. Their noises mixed until he couldn’t tell whose moans belonged to whom. Did it matter?

  He lowered his face and took her lips in a heated kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in rhythm with his cock inside her pussy.

  She lifted her ass to meet him with every thrust. Her legs would be sore from the effort. She was out of shape from two weeks being held hostage and three weeks under his tyrannical rule.

  Why did he have to let his fear for her safety leak in while he was inside her slice of heaven? He lowered his body to get closer to her, holding himself off her enough to keep from smashing her. He wanted all of her. He wanted to touch her everywhere at once and feel her heart racing in tandem with his. He wanted to be inside her. More than the obvious.

  He wanted to protect her, and the only way he knew to do that at the moment was to shroud her with his body. Every thrust of his cock drove him higher. He had to grit his teeth to keep from coming, though it was a wonder he’d lasted as long as he had.

  And then he was there. On the edge. He wiggled one hand down her body and between them to stroke her clit.

  She hitched her hips higher and moaned louder. “I’m gonna come.”

  “That’s it, baby. Come for me. Do it. Now.”

  When she shattered, he let himself go, following her over the edge into oblivion. His cock pulsed so hard and so long it became almost painful. But so totally worth it.

  Totally spent, he released her clit and held himself slightly aloft with his elbows. He brushed a lock of red hair from her cheek. His arms shook. All his blood was in the little head. “You’re mine.”

  Maybe the words weren’t quite polite or appropriate or politically correct or any of those things, but his heart soared when she nodded.

  He exhaled slowly, setting his forehead against hers as he repeated the words, just to make sure she was clear. “You’re mine, Haley.”

  “I know, Mikhail. Now undo my hands so I can touch you.”

  He smiled at her demand and reached up with one hand to rip the Velcro away from her wrists. As soon as she was free, she grabbed onto his shoulder blades, pressing her fingertips into his muscles.

  Her breathing was still ragged, and her gaze darted all over his face and chest. Everywhere in her line of vision. And then she drew her hands around to his chest and pushed on him.

  As if her small frame had any effect whatsoever, he lifted a few inches off her.

  She pressed harder. “Flip onto your back, you brute. It’s my turn.”

  He lifted one eyebrow in question, but did as she told him, landing on his back so hard he bounced.

  She climbed over him, straddling his wide torso with her legs and trailing her fingertips all down his chest and abdomen. She cupped his face, his shoulders, his biceps, his pecs, her hands in constant motion as if she needed to memorize him as quickly as possible before he disappeared.

  Suddenly a tear leaked down her face.

  He grabbed her hands in his and stopped her. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she mumbled. “Everything’s perfect.”

  “Then why the tears?”

  She lifted her gaze. “How long will it stay this way? How much time do we have?”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant.

  “One of us could be killed tomorrow. Or die from whatever they injected us with.” Her gaze darted over his body frantically.

  “Hey, baby. Look at me.”

  It took her a moment to comply.

  “No one’s going to die tomorrow.”

  She tugged one hand free of his grip to wipe her tears away. “You don’t know that.”

  “Well, no one knows that for sure. But I’m going to do everything in my power to keep us both alive.”

  She nodded, swallowing. “Right. Of course.”

  “But?”

  “It was easier before.”

  “Before what?”

  She met his gaze dead on. “Before I knew what it felt like to be truly alive.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Haley was finally asleep, her chest rising and falling in a deep slumber. It was still hot in the room, so she wasn’t covered at all.

  He watched the rise and fall of her breasts with every breath, marveling at how perfect she was in every way. He’d never dreamed of meeting someone who could submit to him the way she had. But then she’d rocked his world by giving as good as she received, tipping the Earth on its axis to get the upper hand.

  And he’d let her. At least he’d let her believe he’d allowed it.

  Damn she was fine.

  Better than fine.

  If he was honest with himself. With Haley. He would admit he felt all of the same fear he’d seen in her eyes. He wasn’t worried so much about himself. Whatever injections he’d received had probably been as a toddler in Russia. But Haley had been shot up with something unknown less than a month ago. What would it do to her?

  With a sigh, he lowered onto his side, not wanting to wake her. She hadn’t slept well in over a month. He didn’t want to disrupt her.

  Not that he’d slept more than a few hours at a time since they met, either. For one thing, it was true the couch was less than ideal. And for another thing, her middle-of-the-night pacing caught his attention at least once a night.

  Hopefully he’d worn her out this time. He smiled, still admiring her breasts. Her nipples were the perfect shade of pink, small round disks with erect tips. He wanted to lean over and suckle one, but restrained himself.

  He shook with the realization she was so perfect for him. He’d suspected. Hoped. But until tonight, he hadn’t known with such certainty.

  And she was scared. He hated her jumping out of her skin every time there was even the smallest noise, but he did like that she was aware and not flippant about the danger.

  It was true she was probably in more danger than anyone else. Yenin did something to her. And she escaped. He would want her back.

  What niggled in the back of Mikhail’s mind, however, was what Anton Yenin had intended to do with her after he moved her to Ted Christianson’s house. After he raped her, what next? Would he have taken her back to the lab? Killed her?

  Mikhail closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He needed a few hours of sleep. The sun would be up soon…

  »»•««

  The scent of coffee was the next thing filtering into Mikhail’s mind. He blinked awake, finding himself on his back with one arm over his belly and one above his head. In Haley’s room…

  He smiled as memories of the night before flooded back into place.

  A faint humming grew louder as he propped himself on his elbows to glance around. The
bedroom curtains were open. They’d probably never bothered to shut them last night. So the room was filled with light.

  And then Haley appeared in the doorway wearing far too many clothes, her lips together—the source of the humming—and her hips swaying. But the best part was the smile on her face. It was the first time he’d seen her that calm, relaxed. At ease.

  She had earbuds in. Ah, so that explained the humming. And she held a steaming mug in her hands. When she met his gaze, she jerked to a stop, her face growing more serious and her humming abruptly over. She yanked out the earbuds with one hand. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No. Though I can’t believe I slept this late. What time is it?”

  “Eight. Not exactly late.”

  “Late for me.” He sat all the way up and reached out a hand. “Come here.”

  She padded toward him without hesitation and rounded to his side of the bed.

  The first thing he did was reach for the coffee mug. And then, noticing it was black, took a long sip.

  She smirked. “Did you want some coffee?”

  “Nope. Yours is fine.” Instead of returning it to her, he set it on the bedside table. “Now, tell me why you looked like the world was a perfect place until you noticed I was awake?” That fact was causing a tight ball of stress in his stomach.

  She frowned. “I did not.”

  “You did.”

  She glanced down and leaned against the side of the mattress with one hip. “Guess I just felt a little silly being caught singing.”

  He grinned and then reached out and grabbed her by the waist to lift her onto his lap.

  She yelped, her hands going to his shoulders. “Geez, Mikhail. A little warning.”

  “Singing? That was more like humming, and I have no idea what you were listening to, so you might be right to be embarrassed. But what about the dancing? That was sexy,” he teased.

  Her eyes widened. “I was not dancing.”

  “Okay swaying. And smiling. And humming. A good combo. You looked…relaxed.”

  She sighed. “I guess I was. I sometimes listen to music to escape.”

  “Ah, so it was music.”

  She swatted at his shoulder with one hand, her smile returning.

 

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