by Blake Wilder
“I stole the vase and was fully intending to steal the painting too,” I told Dec. “But I figure if I walk out with half the prize, it’s better than nothing.”
“But you just confessed,” he said, again putting his hot mouth against my neck.
“Yeah, guess I was feeling guilty.”
“That’s not what you’re feeling,” he said gruffly.
“No?” I pressed back against him. “What am I feeling?”
“Hot. Wet. Needy.”
He stroked his hands up and down my sides as I leaned into him. It wasn’t an intentional tease this time. Now I needed something to keep my upright. His hands went to the skirt of my dress and started gathering it up.
“Your pussy is pulsing, your nipples are aching, and your brain is spinning with hunger and need and you’re fighting with yourself over the fact that you want me this bad, even while I’m the enemy.”
A full-body shiver went through me as he got my skirt up to my waist, baring my legs and uncovering the tiny thong I wore. He wasn’t the enemy. He was my ally. The first I’d had in a very, very long time. But he was playing this fantasy to the max and yeah, hot, wet, and freaking needy absolutely described how I was feeling. Not guilty. I didn’t feel bad about one thing I was doing here tonight.
“You might make my body want you,” I told him, playing my part as well. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying to take from you, trying to steal the things that matter.”
“Goddamn, I hope you do keep trying,” he said, running his palm up over my bare belly. “I’ll fuck you into begging for forgiveness every damned time.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but he slid his hand into the front of my thong, cupping me, and all I could do was moan. I was hot and wet for him and I so wanted him to thrust two fingers into my pussy and make me come. It would take about three strokes.
But I had to play this part. He was helping me with my Maxwell situation. He was making me feel less alone. And he was turning me on like no one ever had before.
I wanted to give him everything he wanted here too.
So, reluctantly, I pushed back against him and spun away. I swung around to face him and saw the surprise and amusement in his expression before he put on the are-you-kidding-me-messing-with-me-like-this expression of a ticked-off bad guy.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“You want me? You’re going to have to catch me.”
I darted around him and across the kitchen, grabbing the doorframe to keep from sliding past, and launching myself into the hallway. I headed for the study. Of course I did. If we were going to play this out, that’s where it was going to happen. He was going to catch me, he was going to be even more worked up, and he was going to make me beg.
I couldn’t wait.
I slammed the door behind me and headed for the statue. I thought briefly about shoving a chair in front of the door or something, but I didn’t have time for that. I glanced at the window. I thought he’d really appreciate me going out the window in fact. He’d admire that. Sure, sneaking around was the way to go in the beginning, but once you were caught, you threw caution to the wind and did whatever you needed to do, right?
I grabbed the statue—it was a smooth, black, curved figure that looked like a majestic tree from one perspective and like a naked woman from another angle. What was with men carving naked women? It seemed that the majority of statues, large and small, featured naked breasts. I wasn’t that into sculpture, so that opinion was based on very little actual data and more on my very limited observations, but the statue really was beautiful. And so much easier to carry than the painting would have been.
I glanced at the door. Obviously, he’d let me have a few steps. He could have been right on my ass heading out of the kitchen.
So he was enjoying this game as well.
Well, what the hell? I headed for the window.
Was there an alarm? Was I going to summon the actual police by opening it? That would put a damper on things. There would be statements and such, even after we convinced them that I wasn’t actually stealing anything. That would really cut into the bad-guy-punishing-the-art-thief-with-his-cock game here.
I hesitated with my hand on the window. Did I do it?
I was saved from making the decision by the study door swinging open and bouncing against the wall as Declan stalked into the room.
He looked angry but I knew he was playing. Still, my heart lodged itself in my throat and I clutched the statue against my stomach.
His eyes flickered to it, then back to mine. He didn’t falter or even slow. He came straight for me.
He towered over me, backing me up against the desk. I hit the edge and gasped. He reached behind me and unzipped my dress. Without a word, and without his eyes leaving mine, he pulled the straps over my shoulders, baring my breasts. He took the statue from my hands and tugged on the front of my dress, sliding it to the floor. Then he handed the statue back.
“You want it so bad?” he asked. “Don’t let go of it.”
I wrapped my hands around the statue, my mouth dry, my pussy wet.
He pulled my hands up until I was holding the statue over my head. “You keep that right there, no matter what happens, and it’s all yours.”
Then he dropped to one knee, pulled the front of my thong away from my pussy, and leaned in.
Six
Olivia tasted better than anything I’d ever had on my tongue in my life.
I was going to eat her until she was begging me to fuck her and could do nothing but lie across my desk and take my cock over and over.
I was a madman.
She was gorgeous. Perfect tits with light pink nipples that were hard as diamonds and made her pussy pulse every time I pinched one. Bare pussy that was glistening with wetness in the moonlight from outside. Red hair spilling down her back. Pale skin that seemed to glow.
But more than all of that, she’d played with me. Not only had she gone along with the game, but she’d added her own twists. She’d pushed me. She’d gotten hot because of it.
This woman was a goddess. Her body brought me to my knees—literally—her quick mind made mine work harder even as her spontaneity filled me with sharp pleasure, and her past, the things she’d been through that had made her strong and determined and brave, all combined into a package that I was never going to get enough of.
And I’d only had my very first taste.
She gasped my name as my tongue ran over her clit. She was clutching the statue, still holding it overhead, which was perfect. She couldn’t touch me. She couldn’t touch herself. She was at my mercy.
I sucked on her clit, biting gently, making her whimper. Then I laved it with my tongue until her hips bucked. I gripped those gorgeous curves, keeping her still, loving that even this felt like a battle with her. One we were both going to win.
“You’re amazing,” I told her gruffly. I eased a finger into her tight pussy, thrilled by the way she clamped down around me.
“Oh my God, you’re so…damned…good at that,” she panted. “Don’t stop.”
I added a second finger, sliding deep and then pulling out as I sucked on her harder. “Couldn’t stop if I tried,” I told her honestly, lifting my head to look up at her as she gripped the statue and trembled on top of my desk. I smirked. I did love when people did what I told them to.
I licked her long and deep again, finger-fucking her until she was nearly squirming off the edge of the desk. “Lie back.”
I didn’t have to tell her twice and I was inordinately grateful that I was something of a neat freak and kept my desk top clear. She clutched the statue to her chest and I almost reminded her that she was supposed to keep it up in the air. But she looked like a fucking work of art herself and all I could do for a moment was stare.
“Dec, please.” Her voice was soft and husky.
I moved between her legs, sliding my fingers deep. I leaned over and took her lips in a hot kiss, curling my finger just
so and circling her clit with my thumb. “Come for me, Liv,” I commanded against her mouth. “Come hard. Let me feel this gorgeous pussy milk my fingers the way I want you to milk my cock.”
She gasped and I reached to pinch a nipple, sending her careening over the edge into an orgasm. She called out my name and her sweet heat coated my hand, making my cock ache and beg to be buried deep.
I withdrew my fingers, taking a long lick as I watched her. “Fucking delicious,” I told her sincerely. “I could eat you every night and never get enough.”
A little shiver went through her as she watched me wide-eyed, spread out for me, that damned statue still in her arms.
I gave her a grin. “Good girl.” My gaze flicked to the statue, then back to hers. “I’m going to let you put it down.”
“Because I was a good listener?” she asked. Her chest was still moving fast as she sucked in deep breaths.
“Because I was going to fuck you from behind and you’re going to need to brace yourself,” I told her wickedly, pulling her toward me and turning her to her stomach.
She gasped and let the statue roll away from her. I swatted her ass with a quick, not-too-sharp smack. “But you have to be careful with it.”
Olivia gave a little groan as she wiggled her ass, clearly not offended by being spanked. That was very good to know.
“I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t sound sorry. She sounded turned on and I slid my hand between her legs, dipping my middle finger into her wet pussy. “Are you? Maybe I should make you suck my cock to show how truly contrite you are.”
Her ass wiggled again. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
I wanted to fuck her badly. My entire body was screaming at me to take her hard right now. But I couldn’t resist. I grasped her hips and slid her across the desk until her head was over the opposite edge. I rounded the deck, unbuckling my belt and unzipping as I went.
I moved to stand in front of her. Her big green eyes looked up at me. They were filled with lust along with clear excitement. She was loving this. She was fucking perfect.
I put my hand on the back of her head, running the long silky red strands of hair between my fingers. “You have a lot to apologize for.”
My pants were open, my cock straining the front of my boxers. I palmed it through the silk with one hand, trying to ease the ache. I wanted to fuck her mouth, but I was not going to finish down her throat. Not this time. I’d have to show some restraint. Her dripping, sweet pussy was where I was going to come hard and fast.
“You snuck into my house. You tried to steal my painting. You made me chase you.” I slowly wound her long hair around my hand as I spoke. Reliving all of that in my mind twisted my lust even tighter. I’d never wanted a woman the way I wanted this one who loved a challenge as much as I did.
“I did,” she said, her head tipping back slightly as I gripped her hair. “And I tricked you. Twice.”
She added a little smile that I knew was meant to seem mocking. I nodded slowly. “You tried to get the upper hand.”
“Yes.” Her voice was husky.
“But it didn’t work, did it?” I asked. “Because you are naked, on my desk, at my mercy, about to take everything I have to give you and beg for more.”
Her breathing hitched and her pupils dilated. “You have me right where you want me.”
“Yes.” I moved in closer. “Yes, I do.” I pushed my boxers out of the way, taking my cock in hand, giving it a firm stroke. “Open your mouth, Olivia,” I commanded softly, but firmly.
She swallowed hard and parted her lips.
Yes. Fuck yes.
“Grip the edge of the desk. Don’t let go unless I tell you to,” I said thickly, running the tip of my cock over her lips.
Her tongue flicked out, tasting me and my knees nearly buckled.
“Yes, sir,” she said, looking up at me from beneath her lashes.
Her fingers curled over the edge of the desk and she opened her mouth fully, waiting for me to feed her.
I pressed forward, slowly sliding into the wet heat, stifling my groan. I was in control there. At least in our game. But this woman was killing me. I wanted to gasp her name, I wanted to tell her she was gorgeous and I’d never wanted anything like I wanted her, I wanted to ask her to stay, to forget about her mother’s painting and to just let me worship her every day and night forever.
But I was the rich asshole she was stealing from who was teaching her a lesson. The game was making her hot and, by God, I was going to play it to the very end.
“Suck on me,” I told her firmly, tugging on her hair.
She moaned around me and then she did as she was told. And then some. She sucked, she licked, she swirled her tongue around my head, then took me deep. Over and over. Through it all she wiggled and moaned, seeming like a woman who was nearing her own orgasm just from sucking me off.
“Enough.” I finally pulled her free.
She looked up, clearly about to protest.
“Spread your legs and hang on tight,” I told her, stalking around the desk.
I took her hips in my hands and pulled her toward me until her feet touched the floor. She spread them wide and dutifully braced her palms on the desk.
I rolled on a condom, bent my knees, and thrust deep. She was dripping wet and I slid balls-deep in that one stroke. For a second, I just squeezed her hips and worked on breathing. She was hot and tight and my climax came rushing at me.
Not fucking yet.
I sucked in a breath, gritted my teeth, and then pulled out before slamming into her again.
“Oh yes. My God, Dec, yes!”
I did it again, still holding on to the orgasm that was bearing down. And again. And again. Each time it felt like I sank deeper and was gripped tighter. After several strokes, and feeling pretty damned proud of myself for not just emptying my balls after the first, I reached around and found her clit.
I circled it, then pinched, feeling her pussy spasm around me. I kept it up until she was gasping my name, and then the moment she screamed my name and her pussy squeezed my cock, I let go, pounding into her for the final strokes it took to pull the hardest orgasm of my life from the depths of my soul.
I was in so much trouble.
Having sex with Dec was probably a bad idea.
Having the best sex of my life with Dec? A definitely terrible idea.
I breathed in deep, feeling the pulses of my orgasm fading. He was still buried deep,
his hands holding me tightly as if not ready to let me go. Since I was trapped between him and the desk, it was really up to him when we moved. So I just worked on getting oxygen in and out. And not panicking.
God, that had been good.
Like really really good.
Like that’s-never-going-to-happen-again good. As in I was never going to have sex that good again.
That was really unfortunate.
“So to recap, sneaking into people’s houses to steal stuff can end up with…consequences.”
He gave my hip a little squeeze and then eased out of me.
I laughed lightly. “Noted. Very educational.” I pushed my hair back, dragging my fingers through it as I heard him moving behind me, presumably dealing with the condom and getting redressed.
We’d just fucked our brains out on his desk and I was suddenly shy about turning around while he was doing all of that. Stupid. But that all seemed intimate and was way sassier than I was feeling at the moment. Nothing about this night had gone according to plan and I really needed my plans to start working.
I pulled my dress up on top and down on the bottom and took a deep breath.
As soon as I turned, he caged me in, his thick arms braced on the desk on either side of me.
“And now on to picking locks. And handcuffs.”
My heart sped up and every hint of shyness evaporated. “Handcuffs?”
“Just in case someone decides to detain you that way.”
“You’re going to teach me to pick lock
s and get out of handcuffs,” I clarified.
“Yes.”
Now would be an okay time to tell him that I wasn’t going to need to pick any locks
and that handcuffs were so not going to be a factor. But this had been…fun.
Sexy, yes. Hot, absolutely. But also fun. Declan was unexpected. This whole night had been unexpected and I didn’t want it to end. It was all one big game. I suspected he knew that too. He didn’t really want to teach me to get out of handcuffs because he thought I’d be put in a pair when I went to Maxwell’s house. He wanted to continue the game.
And if I couldn’t get out of the handcuffs tonight? Well, who knew what Dec might do while I was restrained? A hot shiver ran through me and I felt myself nod. “Okay.”
He gave me a wicked grin. “Okay.”
Two hours later, I’d picked three different kinds of locks and had gotten out of a pair of handcuffs with my hands in front of me and behind me. I was feeling cocky. I was good.
But there was no lock on the duct tape that was wrapped around my wrists and the wrought iron posts on Declan’s headboard. I was slowly working my way through the tape, scraping at it with the bent paperclip that Dec had showed me how to hide inside a bracelet, so I’d have it with me if needed.
Of course, I wasn’t working my way through it very quickly. Because I wanted Dec to come back in and make good on his promise to “teach me a lesson.”
He played a good bad guy.
Should it concern me that I was bound to the bed by a guy who’d committed crimes in the past? Yeah, probably. But it didn’t. There was something about Declan that made me feel like I could trust him. Was that naïve? Exactly the kind of thing I’d scoff at if another woman said it? Definitely.
But here I was.
“I’ve been thinking.”
My gaze flew to where Dec lounged with a shoulder against the doorjamb.
I stilled my movements, trying to hide the fact that I’d been working on cutting through the tape. He knew that, of course, but I knew that he’d call me on it if he could tell.
