by Linzi Basset
Her legs felt like rubber and her thighs were trembling with the constant tension of squeezing them together in a desperate attempt to keep from climaxing. She didn’t dare sit down in fear that the moment she relaxed, she would lose the thin thread of control she still managed to hold onto, to keep the orgasm back.
“Why the fuck do I bother? If I climax and wipe myself dry, by the time he gets home, I’ll be soaked again. He won’t even know. This fucking thing is thudding the bejesus out of my clit!”
Jordan took a couple of steps toward the hallway before a frustrated growl echoed to the roof. He hadn’t threatened her with punishment but the warning had been crystal clear in his deep voice when he’d left the bedroom that morning.
“I expect you not to climax until I give you permission, Jordan. Do not disappoint me.”
That, right there, clinched it; it made her pivot around and lean her hip with resigned frustration against the counter. She could deny that she was a submissive all she wanted but the inherent desire not to disappoint him was there. It had been driving every action and decision she had made since they’d signed that trial D/s agreement.
“Ugh! I have to get out of this house! I can’t sit around all day every day doing nothing. It’s driving me insane.”
Jordan was used to being very active as part of her job and the weeks of leisure were dragging her down. She stared through the kitchen window in deep thought. Jack had driven home the danger she and Gideon were in the previous day. The thought of an innocent woman dying to get information about them had shaken her to the core. If the Syndicate was so brazen to commit murder in broad daylight, what chance did they have? She was aware that Jack had a security detail around the house. They were nowhere in sight but it eased her concern somewhat.
Her brow furrowed in thought. They should’ve known Crown International was corrupt—that Brad Flint was corrupt. Business ventures didn’t interest her, but she understood Gideon’s desire to hold on to the company. It was listed as one of the most lucrative and successful companies in the US. It would open many doors for him if he decided to make America his permanent home.
Jordan was so deep in thought she didn’t hear the drone of Jack’s truck or his footsteps as he approached her from behind. Her body turned taut when a large hand suddenly fell on her shoulder. Her reaction was instinctive and borne from years of practice. She jabbed her elbow back, hard, to connect in the V under his ribs where the sternum ended. It served to paralyze his diaphragm. The hoarse gasp sounded familiar and caused her nerve endings to sizzle.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered and turned around, watching as Jack doubled over with his hands covering his stomach. “I’m sorry, Jack! I didn’t hear you and I … are you okay?” she asked, watching with growing concern as he remained bent over. She had hit him with all her strength but she had felt the hard as steel abs tighten when her elbow connected. “Come on, stop pretending. I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“I’ll have you know, Jordan, that bony elbow of yours offers a mean punch,” he grumbled as he straightened. “I’m impressed. At least now I know you’re able to defend yourself.” He held up his finger when she opened her mouth. “But in no way does that mean you have what it takes to battle with the Sixth Order. My decision stays. You will not have anything further to do with this investigation.”
She crossed her arms and pushed her chin forward in a stubborn gesture. Her loins clenched in response which drew an uncontrolled moan from her lips. Of course, the demon Dom smiled broadly when he realized what was causing her distress.
“I’m even more impressed that you’ve been able to do what I asked.”
“Asked?” The snort that echoed in the room was anything but feminine. “You punished me an entire day for showing you how much I desire you. How is that even remotely fair?”
Jack grinned. He traced the taut line of her shoulders. It was evident she was in distress. The spicy bouquet that tantalized his nostrils was enough evidence of her arousal.
“What makes you think it was punishment, my pet?”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Stimulating my clit for hours on end, knowing it would bring on a climax and then telling me not to … excuse me for being ignorant, Master Black, but if that isn’t punishment, what is?”
His shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. His eyes glimmered with mirth. “I’m your Dom, Jordan. I will push your boundaries where and when I want … just because I can.”
He pointed to the kitchen island. “Get on there, my pet, facing down.”
She glanced at the counter. If she got on there, her feet would be dangling in the air.
“Why?”
His eyebrows drew into a straight line. His eyes darkened in warning. Jordan shuffled closer, keeping a wary eye on him.
“I have food in the oven. It’s—”
“This won’t take long. Stop procrastinating. Unless you wish to wear the vibrator throughout the night as well?”
Jordan didn’t need any further incentive and pulled herself onto the counter. Jack pushed her higher and stepped between her legs to press his hips against her throbbing core.
“Fuck, Jack! Please, I can’t hold it anymore,” she wailed as his hard arousal dug into her softness.
The sound of the zipper of his jeans caused her loins to clench in excited anticipation. He wasn’t just going to remove the vibrator, he was going to fuck her!
Oh, sweet lord, hallelujah! She could imagine her ovaries explode in song and dance and had a hard time holding onto her sanity. Her entire body had become one pulsing throb.
Jack pushed the hem of her skirt over her hips to bare her buttocks. He caressed the enticing curve of her ass. “Hm, no panties, my pet?”
“I gave up after I had to change into a third pair.”
His chuckle rumbled from deep inside his chest to find resonance in her mind, which at this point, was scrambling wildly to stay coherent. She was on the verge of exploding and if he didn’t hurry, she would take a joyride to an erotic cloud all by her lonesome!
“I won’t remove the vibrator just yet because I suspect the moment I do you’ll climax.” He leaned over her back. His breath brushed warmly against her temple. “I’m selfish today, my pet. I want to feel your tight pussy clench around my cock when you come. Over and over and … over.”
The last word was drawn out as he simultaneously pushed his cock inside her. Her whimper turned to a carnal wail as he continued until he was balls deep.
“Fuck, love, you’re as wet as a waterfall and hotter than a sauna.” Jack’s voice was muted as he stared down at them. His body shuddered with lust, blood surging to engorge his cock even more. He smiled as her breath caught in her throat. He never got tired of this. Watching his tumescence disappear into a hot pussy, feeling the tight walls close around his shaft and pull him deeper.
“Ready, my pet?”
“Yes! Fuck yes!”
Her cry ended in a pitched scream when he pulled back and thrust his swollen shaft into her with one hard plunge.
“Ah, love, now this is an invitation I can’t ignore,” he muttered as he swapped a finger to lubricate it before he pushed it all the way inside her ass.
“Jesus!” Jordan gasped in shocked surprise. It was the first time she experienced a finger inside her ass and the added stimulation floored her mind. It was so different than the odd butt plug she’d worn. The heat of his finger alone scorched her skin. Every nerve connected with her brain and left her vulnerable against a blaze of sensations that tore through her body. She pushed back as her body surged with ecstasy when he continued to hilt into her with strong rhythmic thrusts while fucking her ass with his finger. He plunged deep, triggering cry after wanton cry from her lips.
Jack had never felt such a connection with another woman before, not during sex. It confused him, but at the same time caused him to swell more and sent him deeper into her welcoming heat.
“Ohhh, fuuuccck!”
Jordan erupted in lon
g throaty moans. A warm cascade of nectar flushed his loins as he stroked her silky walls. She groaned as the climax ripped through her with ruthless insistence, sending shudders through her helpless body.
Jack watched her tremble as she was swept away in a rip current of euphoria. The sound of their jagged breaths and pulsing blood pounded in his ears as he too was tossed headlong into a rising crest of sensations until his release ejaculated from his cock in long ropey squirts.
Jordan couldn’t move, apart from following the directions of his hands when he turned her onto her back. Her breathing was ragged and sounded harsh in the sudden silence of the room.
Her whimpers echoed in Jack’s ears as he gently removed the butterfly vibrator. He brushed his fingertips with gentleness over the swollen nub. Her knees locked his hand between her thighs. Their eyes met.
“Please, no more,” she begged in a broken whimper. Her clit was so sensitized after the climax and with the constant stimulation throughout the day, even his soft touch was painful.
“I know, love. I’m just checking the blood flow.” He pulled his hand from between her legs and gently massaged her taut muscles until she relaxed with a drawn-out sigh.
“There. Go and take a warm bath, my pet. You’ve earned it. I’ll finish our meal.”
Jack lifted her and lowered her feet carefully to the floor. He pinched her chin between his fingers and tilted back her head. Jordan was confused by the mixture of emotions that swirled in his eyes, but before she could give it more thought, his head lowered to capture her lips in a brief but passionate kiss.
“Go. You have ten minutes.”
Jack watched her leave, his expression impassive. Something had changed. A shift of the universe so adverse that he stood unsure and vulnerable in the face of it. One thing that hadn’t changed and never would, was his disinterest in a permanent relationship.
Not now. Not ever. Not again.
But if that was true, why did his heartbeat increase when she appeared ten minutes later, looking beautiful and smelled as fresh as the ocean?
Maybe it was a question of protesting a little too much … just perhaps?
Chapter Twelve
The lyrics of the Queen song, “Another one bites the dust”, blared over the radio. As always when he heard it, the words found resonance within Jack. He’d lost so many friends over the years during combat. This was the one song that kept reminding him of their deaths. This time, the shocked expression on Lillian Dunn’s face flashed before his eyes as he killed the engine of the truck. Her death was senseless and unnecessary. His sigh carried through the confines of the cab to marry with the bleating voice of Freddie Mercury.
“Ah, fuck, not you too!” Jack grumbled. This time the vision that filled his mind was of Jordan on top of the kitchen counter as he plunged into her. He could hear Max’s taunt in his ears if he knew how confused the feelings swirling inside him made him feel. “Yeah, mate, you’ve gone and done it. Another one bites the dust!”
“Fuck off, Max. I haven’t … shit, who am I kidding?” he grunted irritably but dogmatically pushed further thoughts to the back of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to think about this. He glanced at his watch. Seven fifty-five. A quick look around confirmed that the parking spaces in front of the restaurant were filled, which meant it was a full house inside. “Perfect! An entire audience to witness how I make an ass of myself.”
Jack was surprised Tasha Alenichev chose a restaurant so far from the house they’d rented. Not to mention the fact that from what Sean had said, she dined there often and without any of her comrades present. He smirked. “Probably because she’s looking for a brawny American to keep her entertained after dinner.”
He locked the truck with the remote as he walked toward the entrance, his senses vigilant for any untoward movement. It was second nature to Jack. Something that had developed during the years of covert ops. Now, he didn’t even go to the grocery store without being on alert.
“Buona sera, signore.”
The beautiful Italian hostess smiled broadly at Jack as he stepped inside. Her chocolate brown eyes took slow and thorough stock of his physique. His cock twitched pleasantly in his pants. No man could resist the allure of a woman with sex in her eyes—not that he had any intention of humping her. He had become very selective over the years and the time of quickies with strangers had come and gone in his repertoire of sexual experiences.
“Sera, signorina,” he drawled. His lips quirked as he noticed how her nipples responded to his deep voice. He resisted the urge to tug on the tie that strangled his broad neck. He wasn’t one for suits, but Sean had insisted he dress to impress. Apparently, the Ice Princess preferred tall, dark, and handsome men in suits.
“Do you have a reservation, sir?”
“I do. David Cook.”
She ran her finger over the list in front of her; a smile split her face in two.
“Ah, yes. You have one of our best tables. Are you new in DC? I don’t recall that I’ve seen you here before,” she chatted animatedly as she led him to the table.
“No, but I figured it was time to expand my dining experience.”
He sat down, or rather sprawled in the chair with his legs spread out under the table. He looked around, deliberately brushing his eyes over the gorgeous blonde woman at the table next to him. The cursory glance was brief with a predatory libidinous glimmer in his eyes, for her benefit of course, but long enough to warn him of her openly interested perusal of his large frame.
“Are you expecting company, Mr. Cook?”
“Not tonight,” he said in a loud voice. His gaze returned to the blonde, blue-eyed Russian mobster who watched him with open interest. “But maybe I’ll get lucky later … who knows?” He cast a lewd smile at the hostess. From the corner of his eye he noticed the Ice Princess straighten, obviously offended by his rebuff.
Jack felt the thrill of the chase unfurl inside him. It was a game he had played many times, just for the fun of it when he was younger. The rewards afterwards had always been worth the effort. His gaze seared the curve of Tasha’s large breasts. Rather a pity he wouldn’t get to taste those beauties. His smile turned lascivious, but he didn’t look up at her face, which he could see from the tense curve of her back irritated her to no end.
“My name is Annabelle,” the hostess said with a smile. “I’ll send a server to take your order. Would you like something to drink in the meantime?” She wiggled her hips to draw his attention back to her.
“A double bourbon on ice. The best you have.”
“Of course. If you need anything … anything at all, don’t be shy to call on me,” she cooed with an inviting wink before she trotted away.
From his table, Jack had a view of the entrance. He never exposed himself by leaving his back accessible. Neither did he this time. He’d chosen the seat with his back against the wall. The outside of the restaurant was deceptively simple. A complete contradiction to the inside. The dining room was exquisite; the walls were covered with shimmering gold paper. He looked out of the large mullioned windows with long embroidered curtains; all a perfect backdrop for the delicate live piano music in the background. The ambient tune was relaxing as he swirled the bourbon in the glass that Thomas, the server, had just brought. He listened to the chinking of the ice cubes, breathing in a fragrance that only years in an oak barrel could achieve. When the liquid settled he brought it to his lips and let the amber fluid sit in his mouth a while before swallowing. He closed his eyes, dwelling only on the flavor.
God, it was good.
Jack knew you had to book at least two months in advance; not the kind of place where you could get a table on impulse. It would be interesting to know how Sean had managed to book two tables on such short notice. He’d noticed the dark shadow at the corner table to his left. The glimpse of the blonde hair had given away his identity.
“Like what you see, honey,” Jack drawled without glancing at Tasha Alenichev. His gaze circled the room with indiffere
nce. She hadn’t stopped looking at him since he’d sat down. It was flattering and, had it not been a job, he would definitely have taken her up on the blatant offer.
“Are you talking to me?” she breathed in a husky Russian accent.
“No need to be coy, sugar. I’m quite willing to negotiate.” Jack knew his choice of words could be misconstrued, but if she was as sharp as Sean claimed, they would hit the nerve.
“Negotiate?” she hissed in a rising tone.
Jack’s gaze moved over her face before they settled on her heaving breasts.
“Yeah. Negotiate. You didn’t think I just whip out my cock for the fun of it, did you?” Her nipples turned taut and pushed against the tight shirt that struggled to keep her large breasts contained. His eyes rose to hers. A slow, licentious smile curved on his lips. “Not even for a hot, sexy ass like yours.”
“You haven’t seen my ass yet.” The annoyed puff of breath she released was proof that her unchecked response had surprised her.
Jack noticed that she had lost the Russian accent. It must be how she managed to stay under the federal radar when in the US. She blended in perfectly. His gaze dropped to her taut nipples again. Her arousal was blatant. “No, but if it’s anything as succulently inviting as your tits, it’s a done deal, sugar.”
“You’re crude, sir,” she huffed indignantly.
“Not any less than your lustful, inviting eyes, honey. I just don’t bother to hide behind decorum.” He trailed another slow look up and down her chest. He got to his feet and walked closer. Her eyes widened and her lips fell open. Jack kneeled next to the chair. He caught her one hand in his and flicked his tongue inside her palm. Her breath caught. His other hand moved between her legs, steadily tracing its way upwards.
She jerked and looked around wildly.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Taking a test drive. I can’t give you a price until I know it’s going to be worth my while, now can I?”
