Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Mistake. Mistake. Mistake.
Like she didn’t know that this was a colossal mistake. Like Agnes wasn’t aware of the fact that she was way out of her safety zone and flying blind.
Cass wasn’t some by-the-book accountant. He wasn’t some buttoned-down Fed who would toe the line. He wasn’t some arrogant stockbroker who’d tell her all about his big trades for hours on end…
All men she’d dated in the past.
Men she’d dated and had not fucked.
Because what she’d told Cass was true—she didn’t have one-night stands. She hadn’t been with a lover in years. She was never the type to just let go. To be wild.
Except…
Tonight, she was. With him, she was.
A moan slipped from her as he carried her through his house.
He’d started kissing her in the garage. When his mouth touched hers, electricity had poured through her veins.
It was the kind of off-the-charts reaction you saw in movies but never found in real life.
Her knees had gone weak. Her toes had curled. Her body had ached.
Yes, she could have walked away from him. Played it safe.
But…
She’d never felt this way before. Not with any of the men she’d dated. She’d wanted to feel a spark. She hadn’t.
What I feel with Cass isn’t a spark. It’s an inferno.
She’d been used to loneliness. To pain. To sadness that snuck up on her late at night.
This time, this night—she’d feel something different.
Not like it was forever. After all, as she’d tried to explain to Cass, she’d done her research on him. Very, very careful research. She knew him better than he might know himself.
He wasn’t looking for commitment. Happily-ever-after wasn’t in his vocabulary. Fair enough. It wasn’t in her vocabulary, either. She’d tried that route before, then wound up standing at a gravesite.
Her arm had curled around Cass’s neck. Her hold tightened as she tried to draw him closer and push away the sorrow from the past that wanted to sneak its way into her present.
Not happening. She was going to take this moment, this time.
It wasn’t about love. Or about a future with some silly picket fence. It was just need. Sex.
She was pretty sure, based, ah, on her detailed profile of Cass, that he would be amazing in bed. Since she wasn’t quite sure how she’d be—it had been way too long—Agnes was counting on his amazing self to make this night outstanding for them both.
He lowered her onto the bed.
She bounced. Once. She also shoved her hair out of her eyes as she peered up at him.
He stood on the side of the bed, in a very dark and intimidating bedroom. He was just a big, dangerous shadow, and what could have been a faint quiver of unease slid through her. “Turn on a light,” Agnes ordered.
“Why?” Deep. Rumbly. “Do you think you’ll be less afraid in the light?”
Great question. “Yes, actually, I do.”
He reached out and turned on the lamp near the bed.
Not a whole lot of illumination, and, if she’d hoped the light would make him less intimidating, then that hope had been in vain.
The soft light just spilled around the bed.
Half of Cass remained in shadows. So she had one illuminated side of him, and one dark side.
Like that probably wasn’t the story of his life. A struggle between darkness and light.
She kicked off her heels. They hit the floor with a very loud clatter.
“This is your chance to say no,” he rasped. “To run right out of this bedroom.”
Not happening. Instead of running, she reached out for his belt. Her fingers trembled a bit, but she ignored the tremble. Not like she could really help that little shake. She was running on nerves and adrenaline, and even FBI agents had shaky fingers every now and then.
She unhooked his belt. Unsnapped his jeans.
Lowered the zipper. Surprise, surprise, Cass wasn’t the type to wear boxers or briefs.
Commando only. As if she hadn’t already guessed that about him.
What she had not guessed was exactly how, uh, big he would be.
The heavy, full length of his arousal thrust into her fingers.
Way more solid than she’d expected—and she’d had high expectations.
So, maybe this was the part where she should warn him that when she’d said that she didn’t have a lot of experience, she’d meant…
It’s been years. We may need to go slow.
Except she didn’t want to go slow. If she went too slow, she might change her mind. She might lose this wonderful sense of anticipation and hunger that filled her.
No, forget being slow. She’d go fast. Two hundred miles an hour? Would that be fast enough?
She shimmed forward, her head bent, and she put her mouth on the head of his dick.
“Agnes.” His hands clamped around her shoulders.
She opened her mouth wider. Took him in deeper. Licked and sucked, and she loved the way he tasted. Cass tasted good, and she wanted to see if she could push him to the edge, then beyond. Wouldn’t that be something? Agnes Quinn, making the big, bad biker go wild for her—
“Cass!” His name broke from her because he’d just pulled away. And pushed her back. Back and down on the bed. Her shoulders hit the mattress as he loomed over her.
“You go straight for what you want, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked her.
“Life is too short…” And far too fragile. “To do anything else.”
“Fair enough. Then it’s my turn to get what I want.” One of his hands smoothed up the inside of her thigh. He pushed the edge of her skirt up higher. Higher…
She realized that she was holding her breath. When he touched her, rubbing her core though the soft silk of her panties, her breath left her in a heaving rush.
“How long do you think it will take you to come for me?” Cass asked.
She had no clue, but her hips were eagerly pushing down against those stroking fingers of his. Her panties were in the way. If he could just tug them down or drag them to the side and get them out of the way, that would be outstanding.
“What do you like, FBI Agent Quinn?” Cass demanded.
Who knew? She didn’t. They could find out together. “Ah…this is good.” Breathy.
“Good isn’t what I’m going for. I want you screaming.”
Was that a possibility? “Then you should really get my panties out of the way.”
He did. He didn’t tug them down. He ripped them. The sound was overly loud, and her eyes widened.
Laughing softly, he tossed aside the scrap of silk. “Aw, sweetheart. That the first time you’ve had your panties ripped away?”
Yes, it was. Were her panties supposed to get ripped away every day or something? Was that normal for some people?
“You’ve clearly been around the wrong men. Let me show you what it’s like when a bad guy fucks you.”
He shoved her legs apart. Her skirt gave up the fight and exposed her completely.
“Pretty,” Cass whispered.
Was she supposed to say “thank you” for the compliment? She was clearly thinking and worrying too much, and she needed to switch off the over-thinking and turn on the feeling, but she had no idea how to do that and—
His mouth was on her.
Right. On. Her.
Licking her clit. Sucking her clit. Then even thrusting inside of her.
She jerked and tried to heave up on the bed, but his hands clamped around her hips. His head lifted.
Oh, wow. Savage desire marked the side of his face that she could clearly see.
“Do you want me to make you come?” Cass rasped.
Yes, please. She nodded.
“Good. Then you take everything I give you.” His mouth went back to her. Merciless. Demanding. He stroked her with his tongue. He sucked her clit. Cass had her shaking, crying out, and arching toward him. One big finger worked into her. Then another. He kept licking. Tasting. Taking.
She shattered apart for him. Her hips pressed to his mouth. Her hands fisted in the bedding, and she came on a long, hard wave of release that left her thighs quivering and her whole body feeling as if it had just broken into a thousand pieces.
He kept licking her. “So sweet…”
Aftershocks rolled through Agnes.
His head slowly lifted. “Now that you’re ready for me, I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”
She’d have to catch her breath before she could scream. And that was gonna be very hard due to the way that she was panting like crazy.
“The sexy top has to go, sweetness.”
Now she was sweetness? Hadn’t she been sweetheart a moment ago? Or…FBI Agent Quinn? Maybe even princess once? Yes, yes, she distinctly remembered him calling her—
“I’ll help.” He yanked the top over her head and tossed it to the floor. His hands slipped beneath her, and a moment later, her bra fell aside, too.
His mouth immediately closed around one tight nipple. He licked. Sucked hard. And her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. His right hand caught her other breast. Plucked the nipple. Teased. Pinched lightly.
Arousal flooded through her. Again.
Especially because…
His left hand had gone back between her thighs. Two fingers were in her. Stretching her. Thrusting. Making her quake.
She was completely out of control. Her body didn’t seem to be her own. She was lost to need and sensation and everything he was doing…More, please. Don’t stop. Do not dare stop.
“Grab the headboard.”
He’d pulled away.
Why had he done that?
She blinked and saw his shadowy form near the side of the bed. He opened the nightstand drawer. Her eyes narrowed, then she realized he was pulling out a condom packet.
This is happening.
He held the packet in his hand. “You aren’t going to forget me anytime soon.”
No, she doubted that she would.
“The headboard,” he ordered. “Lock your hands around it. Hold on tight.”
Um…
She rolled. Scuttled for the headboard. Damn, that probably had looked horribly unsexy. She just wore her skirt, and it was hiked way high at her waist. She should probably ditch the skirt. Quickly, she did. A fast shimmy that left her naked.
Her hands reached out and clamped around the wooden headboard. Her head turned when he climbed on the bed behind her.