Chapter 3 #2
He’d stripped completely. She had a fast impression of rippling, powerful muscles. A whole lot of strength. An insane amount of sexiness.
His right hand curled into her hair, twisting it around his grip. Not pulling her hair. Not hurting her. Holding her.
And his other hand smoothed over her ass. “Spread your legs for me.”
They were spread. But she spread them a bit more. Her grip tightened on the headboard. She leaned forward a bit, arching her hips toward him. The broad head of his cock nudged against her core. Her breath sucked in as she prepared for him to—
His left hand moved to her waist. Clamped on her as he drove inside. Filled every single inch. Stretched her. Claimed her. Owned her.
“Cass!” His name burst from her in a wild cry. Both of her hands clamped harder on the headboard. He was so big, so thick, that she was on the verge of pain. A weird pleasure-slash-pain combo, and her body wasn’t sure which one of those two forces would win. Every muscle tensed.
Yeah, okay, it had been a while. She should probably have told him that fun fact with some specific time included.
“You’re so damn tight.”
Uh, yes, she was aware. Her breath heaved in and out. In and out.
He didn’t get any smaller. If anything, Cass got bigger. And she stayed way too tense.
“Your last lover must’ve been—”
“It’s been years since I’ve been with a lover, and you could have warned a woman that you were gonna be this damn big!”
His hand tightened on her waist. “Years?”
She hadn’t stuttered. She was sure of it. “Years,” she bit out.
“Fuck,” he growled.
They were in the process of that, yes. But the wonderful, wild excitement she’d felt before was quickly evaporating as uncertainty and fear crept through her veins. So much for grabbing onto pleasure and not letting go.
Her hands began to lift from the headboard.
“No.” A low order from him. “Hold on. Do not let go.”
He released her hair. That big, strong hand of his flew around her body.
Went between her spread thighs, and he began to stroke her clit.
His mouth slid along her neck, licking and sucking and kissing her in places that she hadn’t realized were so hypersensitive even as those rough, callused fingers of his kept stroking her clit again and again.
Some of the fear fled. Her body began to relax. Not in fear or panic mode any longer. And she was pushing into his wicked fingers. Moaning.
“That’s better,” he rasped.
Yes, it was. It was better.
He pulled back. Drove deep. Slowly, inch by inch, until she’d taken all of him again.
She tensed again, but there was no pain. Just a tightness that was now pretty wonderful.
He pulled back.
Her white-knuckled grip held onto the headboard.
He sank inside of her. Slowly, inch by inch.
Her heart drummed in her chest.
His fingers knew exactly what she wanted as he worked her clit. A fever pitch arose within her again.
He pulled back.
“Cass!” A demanding cry broke from her.
He thrust into her. Again, slowly. Inch by tormenting inch. His big dick pushed hard into her even as her head tipped back against him.
“Don’t hold back!” Agnes pleaded. Not anymore. There was no reason to hold back any longer. “Give me everything.”
“Not sure you can handle that.”
Oh, what a taunting bastard. And maybe, like, two minutes ago, she hadn’t been sure herself. But now… “Give. Me. Everything.”
He pulled back.
“Cass!”
He drove deep. Not inch by inch. Not this time. There was a barely controlled savagery in his thrust this time, and she loved it. Her own control seemed to snap as her hips began to buck wildly. He withdrew, only to pound hard into her. Again and again.
A second orgasm hit her. A fast and consuming avalanche that was the strongest blast of pleasure she’d ever felt in her entire life.
Agnes opened her mouth to cry out, but she couldn’t.
The pleasure—the release was too strong.
All she could do was gasp and shudder, and she could feel her inner muscles clamping and contracting around the long length of his dick.
“Oh, fuck, yes.” He thrust into her again and again. “Fuck, yes.”
Then his hands were flying over hers. Holding tight.
The whole bed was rocking and shaking, and the headboard hit the wall again and again.
Thud. Thud. Thud. His thrusts were merciless.
So strong. So hard. So consuming. And she loved it.
This was what it was like to be fucked. To have pleasure wipe away everything else.
The release battered at her. The same one? Another climax? Agnes could not tell. She was just holding on for the fabulous ride.
Then he stiffened behind her. And Cass roared her name.
He’d just fucked an FBI agent. Probably—nope, definitely, definitely a colossal mistake.
So why was he holding so tightly to her hands and thinking that had been the best fuck of his life?
She was soft and warm in front of him. All silky skin. Tousled hair. His dick was still inside of her. She is so freaking tight. And as he tried to get his racing heart under control, his cock decided it wanted to start swelling.
Again.
Because he wanted to fuck her again.
That would be a colossal mistake. Just like the first fucking.
He didn’t give a shit.
I want to fuck her again.
And why not take what he wanted? Why not take her?
Her head turned. She glanced over her shoulder at him. The lamp light fell on part of her. He’d really prefer to have full, blasting overhead lights on them because he would love to see every single inch of her.
She was staring at him all solemnly. Her face very, very serious. He should say something profound. Deep. Not just have her thinking he was some menacing jerk who— “Years, huh? Why the hell did I get to be the lucky bastard tonight?”
Okay, shit. That had not been profound. Or deep. It had been very assholery. But the question had just slammed out of him because he damn well wanted to know why she’d picked him.
Cass had never been particularly lucky a day in his life.
So, he’d typically followed the mantra of…Screw luck. Live hard. Take what you want.
He had just taken what he wanted. And he’d do it again, too.
But, first, he needed to ditch this condom and grab another one.
She was also not responding to his question, so he took that moment to carefully pull out of her.
A soft gasp came from her lips, and he froze. “Did I hurt you?” Gruff. Hurting her had never been on his agenda. He made it a habit not to hurt delicate things in this world.
Despite the fact that she routinely carried a gun and could toss a mean bottle in a bar fight, Cass still considered FBI Agent Agnes Quinn to be one of the delicate things in the world.
“No, you didn’t hurt me. Though I wasn’t quite sure there for a minute. Things were a little, um, tight.”
Tell me about it. She’d been so tight and hot that he’d nearly lost his mind. All he’d wanted to do was slam into her. Again and again and—
I had to make it good for her. So he’d held onto his control with a death grip, until he’d felt her come around his cock.
He climbed from the bed. Stalked into the bathroom and ditched the condom.
You just fucked an FBI agent.
One who had, apparently, not been with a lover in years.
Yeah, he was gonna need to get an answer to his question. Why the hell did she decide to fuck me? Naked, he marched back into the bedroom, and, this time, he flipped on the overhead lights.
Illumination immediately flooded in the bedroom. Bright.
She grimaced and blinked from her pose on the bed.
Not holding tight to the headboard any longer.
Instead, Agnes had flipped around. She’d been crouching in the middle of the bed, as if she’d been about to jump out of the bed, and he could see her perfectly now.
Every single inch. Those gorgeous breasts. Those silky legs.
The…
Knife wounds that rained across her stomach and abdomen.
His breath shuddered out. “What. The. Fuck?”
“Oh, you’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you?” She grabbed the cover and hauled it over her body.
She had no idea. In two breaths, he was across the room. He yanked the cover off her and glared at the old scars. Stab wounds. He should know. He had some, too. But he slowly and carefully counted the thin, white lines that cut into her soft skin. He touched each one.
Seven. She’d been stabbed seven fucking times.
His breath sawed in and out as a killing rage filled his blood. Slowly, his gaze rose.
Her eyes widened as she took in his expression. “Uh, Cass?”
“Tell me his name.” All he needed was a name. He would be able to find the bastard. Put him in the ground. “And I’ll kill him for you.”