29. Smith
Chapter 29
Smith
I t’s hard fucking work not feeling her up, not taking her right here and now. Not fighting for the prize of her ass, of her whole being. Not starting the chase like I fucking want.
But she’s stolen a phone.
“I’m waiting, Calista.”
The storm turns electric in her gaze. “You cut me off; I turned myself back on. What are you going to do? Hand me over?”
I lean into her, my mouth not even an inch from hers. Her breath is warm, moist on my lips, and I swear to fucking all that’s unholy I’m being pulled to her by some invisible magnet. “Maybe I will.”
“It’s not much of a threat, Smith, considering that’s the end game.”
And I turn cruel, twisting the knife with exquisite care. “Maybe if you play it right, I’ll let you go.”
It’s there, a brief flare, a weakening, a sliver of hope.
Then she crushes it down and something in my chest hurts. Like she fucking reached in and sliced into my insides deep.
“No, you won’t.”
“I can try.”
Everything goes still. Those aren’t the words I meant. It’s like I dropped the knife and offered her a key to a secret fucking door.
For the first time in my life, I step down. The hunter almost kneels, almost bows to her.
Almost, but not quite. I step down, yes. To get my bearings. “I can try, Calista. Why do you think we’re here?”
It’s a safe house, abandoned on the outside, the epitome of old warehouses in industrial Queens, and luxury on the inside. I fucking hate this place. Because all I can think about is where my daughter could have died, here in Queens.
Not the same street or the same area, but it’s still… I drag in a breath, trying to reset myself. I’m a fucking Dom, a man in control, one who likes to feed his base instincts. I like blood and breath play. I like taking down the girl to her bare bones and basic, animalistic needs. Sex and pain and pleasure.
And instead, I give her a soft chase in SoHo. I fuck her vanilla-style. I hold her.
Calista Juniper Price.
A fucking conundrum if ever I’ve met one.
The thing is, I like my submissive with fangs and claws; I like the prey who can fight to the death, bleed and draw blood in equal measures.
In short, I fucking like her.
She comes up to me, keeping the space between us minimal. “How did you find me?”
“How the fuck do you think? Reaper told me. Orion told me.”
“Did you speak to Dakota?” She frowns .
“No. I came for you , not a relationship beyond redemption.” I pause to rephrase my words. “We’re as good as we need to be and my father-daughter mess isn’t your concern.”
Her mouth turns up in a cynical smile. “Why was I there? To parade in front of your kid? Because last thing you said about who I needed to be was either a fake wife or fake sex toy. You know, the usual.”
I don’t laugh, even though I want to.
“If I knew you’d want that, I’d have made other plans.”
“We weren’t there long.”
I breathe out, slip a hand around her waist, sliding down to her ass. “Because I was done when I was done.”
“Doing what?”
“Meeting your senator, making sure introductions that your other friend Johnny set up went smoothly.” I lean in, waggle the phone in the air. “And trying to glean anything at all about a connection between stolen weapons sales and the sex trade.”
“You don’t strike me as a guy with a subscription to Girls With Big Guns .”
I slide up close a moment, letting her feel my hard cock. “I prefer Mouthy Prey Monthly .”
“You would.”
Calista shifts, rubs against me. Then I step back.
“Along,” I murmur, “with Primal Sacrifice .”
“Sounds positively pagan.”
“You have no fucking idea.” I slip my thumb along her bottom lip, the phone in my other hand. And she sighs softly.
“I’ve had sex with you, I think I might.”
“We’re just dipping toes in.”
“You’re not the big bad wolf,” she says, sucking my thumb into her mouth.
The stroke of her tongue and the wetness shoots straight and hot to my cock. “More like a panther. I like to hunt. I like to play.” Fuck, I pull my thumb free and step back, waving the phone. “Why do you have this?”
Calista snatches the phone from me. “Wrong question. It should be ‘what did you find, Calista?’”
“What the fuck did you find, sweetheart?”
Her smile is small, but there, and her fingers fly over the screen. It lights up and she holds it out.
“Call me. Aaron.” I lift my gaze. “I didn’t know you were that close.”
She spins free, darting past me, and throws the phone. I catch it easily. “We’re not, dickwad. At least not anymore. Look at the time stamp.”
I do, and now I frown. “So, I guess the question is, who the fuck sent this?”
“I need a computer, some hardware to scramble the signal, and a booster if this isn’t wired.”
“Don’t ask for much, do you?”
Her gaze shifts to me and she coils fingers around my tie, pulling herself into me. “All I want is the people who used and hurt my mother until she was dead, and for my brother to have a good life.”
“Fuck, Calista, I hate it when you sound like a murderous do-gooder.”
“No, I think you like it. That’s your guilt.”
I toss her the phone and she pushes farther in to look around.
I shoot a text to Jones. “I’ll get some things delivered, but it’ll take a couple of hours.”
The place is one floor, open-plan kitchen, dining and living area, with a partition that leads to a bedroom, bathroom, and a study area.
She puts a hand on the leather sofa and kicks off her heels. Then she slides her dress off, revealing that sweet flesh to me. The pale blue of her lace panties is deeper blue where her desire has soaked them, and her nipples poke through the bra’s delicate lace.
I want to feast, but I make myself wait, drinking her in, from those lush fucking tits down over her taut stomach to the very top edge of her tattoo.
“Trying to buy your freedom?”
“Maybe I want a last meal.”
I growl low because her over-the-top statement is a lightning bolt to my elemental bones. The twisted freak in me loves her reminder of the danger, the inevitable end where she winds up in the hands of the authorities, ones that when they choose, have no real checks and balances.
Do I want her to fucking suffer? No. But her talk, damn… it heightens the moment and makes my dick throb and push against my pants a little more. Thicker, harder, my cock wants release. Needs it.
“You know what I think?”
“What, Smith?”
“That you’re wearing too many fucking clothes.”
I reach into my jacket’s inner pocket, and I pull out a switchblade. I walk up to her and in front of her face, close enough that she can feel the whisper of the blade as it disturbs the air, I flick it open.
My Calista doesn’t even flinch.
And my prick aches.
I slice up through the center of the bra. Then I cut the strap on each shoulder, and I step back as it falls to the floor.
“Spread your legs.”
I strip off my jacket and toss it, not caring where it lands. Then I come in close once again.
With a light stroke, I run the blade down her breast plate, down over her stomach, and then between her legs, turning it so the blade’s flat as I hold it there, pressed light against her pussy.
Her breathing starts to come in pants and her eyes are bright, feverish. “Word?”
“Fuck you.”
I dip my head, running my lips along her throat, stopping here and there for a taste, a lick, wanting the salt and that particular sweetness of her skin. She moans.
I drop my hand, moving the knife through the air. She’s too wet to let it glide over the panties. “Give me your mouth.”
“Make me.”
I grab her hair with my free hand and yank her head back so her lips are mine for the taking. She’s ready for me to plunder, so I tease. Tiny sips along her lips, sliding my tongue in to flirt, and then, still holding her, I lift my head, and look down at the tremors of her stomach. I bring the blade up against her skin and along the line of her panties, I run it, scratching her.
She yelps. I press in, just a bit and the moan is loud. Orgasmic. I let her go and drop it so I can lick and suck her blood, the few drops I drew. I thumb her pulsing clit and the orgasm hits harder. But I don’t let her have it all, I pull away.
With a vicious slice, back edge of the blade against her skin, I slice through one side of her panties and then the other, pulling them free.
I lick her, suck her clit, and bite her. She shrieks as a whole-body spasm passes through her.
“Monster.”
“You love it,” I say, getting up, still holding the knife. I point it at her. “On your knees.”
She does that and without asking, without waiting to be told, she frees me, and I let her greedily suck me into that divine and magical mouth of hers. My body jerks, balls high, and the ache is threatening to turn into an unstoppable urge to find release, so I push her away, knocking her off-balance. She tumbles to the floorboards.
“Now that’s a fucking view.” I run the knife over her ass, the back of the blade, loving how it makes her shiver. Then I set it down. “Use your safe word if you need it.”
I slide my fingers over her, between her cheeks, her sweet asshole calling to me, but first I dip into her cunt. She moans again as I push into her, stretching her with my fingers, rubbing her G-spot until the noise she makes reaches a higher pitch.
She’s so fucking wet she’s ready to come, and me?
I’m almost fucking delirious with the need for her.
I remove my fingers and plunge into her wet heat, and the sigh in the air is a perfect moment. I feel it, the coming home, and Calista’s soft, satisfied smile as I stay, balls deep, burns itself into me.
Then I pull out, and shove back in, and the wetness coats my way like lube. I dip a finger into her and she jerks. “Word?”
“Keep fucking going. You’ve been teasing me. I need… I need to come. I need to come big… So fuck me. Make it hurt.”
I grab her hips and start to hammer into her, hitting bottom every fucking time. Hard enough she’d slide if I didn’t have hold of her, and she pushes back into me over and over.
This isn’t enough. Not this time. Not this fuck.
I need to own her, all over. Stamp her as mine. I want to ruin her for future lovers.
But stopping is hard. Because her cunt wraps tight, and though it stretches for me, and her moans blanket me in more want, it still feels like she’s trying to take my cock off.
It feels like she was made just for me.
And I need more.
I lean over her as she rocks back on me and I fuck her in short, deep stabs that make her start growling, start grinding on me hard like she can’t get enough.
Grabbing her hair, I put my mouth to her ear and bite down on her lobe. I’m rewarded by a spasm of her cunt, and it almost makes me come.
“Like that, little girl?”
“More.”
“Not what I asked. Do you like me fucking you like this, like I want to climb inside you and wreck you from the inside out?”
“Yes.” Her fingers claw at the floor. She’s on her elbows and I want her ass higher, head and upper torso pressed to the boards. “I fucking love it, you dick.”
“Here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna pull out, line up, and fuck the ever-loving Christ out of that pretty little asshole, okay?”
“Do it!” Her voice wobbles. “ Now. ”
And I lose more of myself again… except this time, there’s a small part of me that’s afraid I won’t ever get it back.