Bonus Chapter #2
Vince suddenly spun around and stomped to where he’d parked his big black motorbike on the lawn. He straddled it then whacked on his helmet. The bellow of the revving engine echoed around the high walls of the house and rattled through me.
Andrew set his attention my way and tucked his gun into his waistband.
“You shouldn’t be here. Go away,” I snapped and turned from him. I rushed up the steps and into the house, spun, and slammed the door.
But it didn’t connect. His black trainer stopped it. His hand curled around the wood and pushed.
“Get out!” I shouted and fought his entry. “You have no right.”
“I have every fucking right.” He stepped in and banged the door closed. “To come find you.” He paced up to me.
I backed up until my shoulders hit the wall.
“You belong at my side, woman, you’re mine, or had that little detail slipped from your mind?”
His dark gaze was intense and fiery and his movements stiff and deliberate. He loomed over me.
“You fucked up, Andrew,” I said, glaring up at him. “You fucked up big time by making out my mother was a criminal and…and…”
“I know.” His mouth twisted. “I’m sorry, I was only acting on the information available.”
“But this is about my mother!” I shouted. “My dead mother who I love with all my heart.’
“And I love you with all heart.”
I shook my head. “Go. Go. I don’t want you here. The thought that you might have killed her, took her out as one of your hits, a target on your kill wall…” I paused as a sob caught in my throat. “Makes me sick to the stomach.”
“And it does me, too.” He came close; so close his body heat radiated onto my chest.
“No! Get away from me. I can’t be with you right now.” I put my hands on his shoulders and shoved.
But he went nowhere. Instead, he clasped my wrists and drew both of my arms upward, stretching my torso and clamping me to the wall.
I gasped and bucked against him, my traitorous body getting a thrill out of his closeness. “Get off me, Andrew, I mean it.”
“No you don’t.”
“I do.” I wriggled with all my strength but to no avail. He was bigger and stronger and had me in his grip. “Get off me, leave.”
And then his mouth hit down on mine; a hot, ravenous kiss that dominated and owned me to my core.
I groaned and took what he gave, my belly clenching and my skin prickling for more connection.
After a moment, I tore my mouth from his. This was not what I wanted. Was it? “What are you doing?” I was panting and shaking in his grip.
“Fixing this fucking problem.”
“You can’t, you can’t fix what you’ve done.”
“I haven’t actually done anything.” He raised his left eyebrow. “Other than follow leads.”
I pursed my lips, taking in his dark flavor that lingered there. I knew it so well. I knew him so well.
“And you know it.” He’d spoken onto my cheek. “So stop fighting this.”
“You’re an asshole,” I said, my voice shaky. “A self-righteous asshole who thinks he can fix the world. Well, you can’t, Andrew, you can’t.”
He stared me in the eyes. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”
“What, that you’re an asshole or you can’t fix the world?” I glared at him. I’d hit a nerve.
A strange growling sound erupted from his throat, then he dragged my arms down and turned, pulling me with him.
“What the…?” I battled his hold. “Get off me.”
“You’re being a brat,” he said. “And I won’t tolerate it.”
“I am not!” I half trotted and half staggered after him. “I am not being a brat. Let me go.”
“Not until you’ve gone over my knee, young lady, you need to learn that you cannot speak to me this way.”
“What? No…I…”
He went into the living area. A regal fireplace dominated the room, and before it, two Chesterfield sofas faced each other. On the wall was an oil painting, a family portrait from happy times.
“This will do.” He glanced around and then tugged me to the sofa. He sat heavily and dragged me down with him.
But I didn’t end up seated, I was on his lap, and then suddenly over it; the world upside down and my hair trailing on the cashmere carpet.
“You deserve this punishment,” he said, hoisting my cotton dress up to the small of my back. “Every fucking second of it.”
I kicked up my heels, caught his hand, and tried to push away. But it was no good. He had me pinned in place.
My ass tingled as he yanked down my knickers, leaving them around my thighs. The air was cool against my hot flesh.
“You can’t do this.” I twisted to glare at him.
His jaw was tight, his eyes narrow, and the light caught the sparkle of his diamond earring. “I can do what the hell I want with you,” he said. “Get used to that. Get used to being mine, totally, all of you. I own you.”
He brought his hand down on my ass, hard.
I jerked and cried out; the smarting sting was instant and intense.
“Keep still.” He spanked me again, right over the first strike, and then again and again.
I twisted and bucked, made it hard for him to aim. But he was on a mission to punish me good and proper and was raining down hard spanks at the rate of two a second.
I yelled profanities. Tears streaked down my face. It was so maddening that he could do this. That he believed he had a right to.
Maybe he had?
Perhaps I had been bratty?
“Andrew,” I gasped. “Please…”
He paused and rubbed his wide palm over my ass cheeks. “You ready to say sorry?”
“No…I… Ouch!”
He’d picked up where he’d left off, striking my poor hot bottom over and over. It was the highest part of my body, and I had no escape. No choice but to take it. It was humiliating, and my body raged to be free.
“Keep fucking still, you’re making it worse for yourself.” He paused and gathered my hair into a tight hold. “But you can make it stop whenever you’re ready to say sorry.”
He didn’t give me a chance to speak and spanked me again, holding my head up by my hair so I was staring at the fireplace.
I curled my toes, the layers of pain penetrating deep into my body. I clenched my buttocks and my pussy as I jolted and shuddered against his thighs. My scalp complained at his heavy-handed hold on my hair.
After a full minute, and when I didn’t think I could take anymore, he stopped.
“Well?” he asked.
I was crying, sobs juddering from my chest, and my face was soaked with tears.
“One word, Chelsea.” He caressed my sore ass then slipped his finger down the crack of my buttocks.
I sniffed and sniveled and tried to catch my breath.
“You have to learn to trust me, to listen to me and understand that I would never kill anyone without their confession. Your mother wouldn’t have confessed, even if we’d even got as far as speaking to her, because she hadn’t done anything.
I would never have killed her, not one member of Galahad would. ”
I sobbed harder and shook my head.
He released my hair, and I let my head hang, my entire quivering body limp over his knees.
“Say sorry,” he said, his voice gentler.
“S…s…sorry,” I managed. “I’m sorry.”
“Good girl.” His fingers slipped lower, over my asshole and to my pussy lips. “Wasn’t so hard, was it.”
I caught my breath, and my eyes flicked open.
“Now,” he said. “You get your reward for apologizing.”
“Oh!”
He’d circled my entrance. I was wet, really wet, and he used my arousal to ease his way into me. Two thick fingers that went knuckle-deep.
He kind of chuckled. “Every damn time.”
I gripped the sofa and the leg of his trousers. “Andrew, I…”
“You’re turned on, I know that, I can feel it.”
Turned on? I was furious, mortified, but turned on?
“There’s no denying it. A spanking gets you horny.” He added another finger, filling me easily I was so wet and ready for him. “And you’ll get your orgasm, I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
He pumped in and out of me, soft, wet noises filling the room.
Moving with him, I groaned, long and guttural. He was fucking me with his fingers and stroking my G-spot on each ride in.
“Ah yeah, so sexy,” he murmured and shoved my knickers farther down my legs so they dropped around my ankles. “And so ready for my cock.”
I bit on my bottom lip to stop myself from begging for his cock. He’d just spanked me like I was a naughty child; there was no way I was going to beg.
“Like this.” He pulled out then sat me up so I was perched on his knee.
I closed my eyes, the room spinning.
“Deep breath.” He caught my cheek in his palm. “It will pass.”
I swallowed and breathed deeply, filled my lungs
He turned me and set his mouth over mine, kissing me with an urgency that had my heart rate rocketing further. He tasted so familiar, hot and delicious, maybe a hint of whiskey. “God, I want to be inside you so badly,” he murmured.
The next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the sofa and he was over me, battling with the buttons on his trousers.
My pussy quivered, and my ass stung. I reached for his t-shirt and dragged it up, then off.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he said. “Bratty little sexy bitch that you are.”
There was no chance for me to answer because he speared his cock into my pussy on a furious fast ride to full depth.
His body rubbed over my clit and his thickness filled me to the point of discomfort. I rose into him and locked my ankles behind his legs, clutched his hot warm shoulders, and let the relief of our joining soak through me.
“Oh yes, more.” I gripped his hair in my fist and clasped his ass with my other hand. “Give it to me.”
“Bossy little brat too, huh?” He stared into my eyes. “But yeah, that’s what you’re going to get and come as many fucking times as you want.”
His nostrils flared, and his eyebrows drew down. His body was a coil of tension about to release and take what it wanted.
Me.
He half pulled out then blasted back in. The sofa creaked and shifted beneath us. “Ah fuck, yeah…” he moaned and shoved into me some more.
I adored his big cock and the way it stretched me to the point of discomfort, his root expanding my entrance and his tip pushing at my insides. I groaned and bucked.
He set up a fierce rhythm, drumming in and out of me. Driving us both crazy with need and longing for each other. My body was alive and greedy for him, my former frustration and anger lifting me to new heights of desperation.
“You feelin’ it?” he grunted.
“Yes. Yes. Oh…don’t stop.”
Our flesh slammed together as we met halfway on his lunges, his cock driving ever deeper and my clit getting ready to fly into release. We were wild, primitive, and had only one focus.
Then my line of sight settled on the family portrait. This was the room we’d sat in formally with many visitors over the years, and now I was getting thoroughly fucked by my professor on the sofa.
That was really fucking hot.
Was I deranged?
Probably?
I gripped his ass cheeks with both hands now and drew him closer. “Andrew…I’m…I’m…coming.”
He grabbed my hair and angled my face to his. “Come, come now. Squeeze my fucking cock with your pussy.”
He kissed me, his tongue searching for mine, and I toppled into bliss. Holding my breath, I let the sparks of my climax wing around my body, shaking my limbs and thrilling my nerve endings. I became a convulsing orgasmic wreck and cried out, the sound taken into his mouth.
He was coming, too, his release turning his body to granite and his breaths a storm raging from him. He flooded me with wet warmth and stared into my eyes.
I cupped his face and kept my concentration on him. My pussy clenched and unclenched around his pulsing cock.
“Ahh…” he said, his eyelids fluttering a little. “You feel so…when you…ah…yeah…”
I held him tighter, never wanting to let him go.
This complex, dangerous man who loved me as much as I loved him had become my everything.
Sure, he was a bossy risk-taker, perhaps with delusions of grandeur when it came to saving the world, but I couldn’t stay mad at him.
I understood him, and it seemed, he understood me.
“My love,” he said, kissing me softly and slowing. “Promise me something.”
“Anything?”
“You’ll never walk away from me again like that, in the garden.” He paused, caught his breath. “It fucking hurt.”
“As did my spanking.” I frowned.
His mouth tightened. “A result of hurting me. Don’t do it again, okay?”
I pushed a lock of hair from his brow. “You’ll be careful, though, going forward.”
“Galahad?”
“Yes, Galahad. You have to be sure, every time you kill, every fucking time.”
“We will be, we always have been.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “That won’t change.”
“Good.”
“But you’ve changed me,” he said. “I can’t do this without you.”
“What? You can’t do what without me?”
“Life.” His frown deepened. “You’ve become a part of me, earlier, when you didn’t want me…I can’t do that. I have to have you. Always.”
My heart squeezed, and my throat constricted with emotion. I knew how he felt because it was how I felt, too. My eyes misted.
“Baby. Don’t cry.” He stroked my cheek tenderly.
“Happy tears,” I said, “I’ve been so unhappy, since my mother…and then…and now…you. You’re here, in my life.”
“So let’s make it official,” he said. “Let me prove to your brother, and your father, that I’m the man for you. Marry me.”
“What?”
“You heard.” His cock stiffened inside me. “Marry the fuck out of me, and I promise you’ll be cared for, satisfied, and loved forever.”
“But the university?”
“Can fuck off if they have a problem.” He raised his eyebrows. “The only problem I see is…”
“What?”
“You haven’t said yes yet.”
“You…you’ll have to ask my father.”
“I can do that.” A muscle flexed in his cheek. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to make you mine, Chelsea. You must know that.”
I stared at his handsome face, looked right into his soul. A beautiful, proud, intense soul I wanted connected to mine forever. “Yes! Yes, I will marry you. Even though you have a fondness for spanking and are horribly bossy, I will marry you.”
He grinned, a rare, totally unguarded smile that went right to his eyes. “Then you’ll just have to learn to behave, won’t you.”
We joined in a deep, passionate kiss that had our bodies rocking together again, searching from more pleasure and another release.
Happiness swarmed through me. Never in my wildest dreams, my most outrageous fantasies had I thought I’d marry my crush—the hot professor who’d stolen my dreams—but it was a truth.
It was going to happen, and I knew that life would always be a walk on the wild side, a flirt with danger, and for the criminologist in me, that was just fine.
Get your copy of THE COP and find out if Daddy Mitch can help Amy overcome her cult past and whether or not she can heal his fresher wounds.