16. Dax
DAX
The rest of the night I spent hidden behind the computer screen, pausing only to eat dinner.
I didn’t even join the guys at the table.
I took it straight back to the couch as Wes yelled at me about eating next to technology.
My mind was laser focused on what needed to happen, and when I got into moods like this, there was nothing else that could distract me from my goal.
I’d started receiving messages from those I’d reached out to about the plan, sending me their suggestions.
I went through all of our records and compared notes on who they’d picked.
Most of them were absolutely fit for the job.
Some of them seemed like an odd choice, but as I read their reasoning, it sounded logical.
None of them screamed at me that they were the mole and sending a lackey to alert the Mad Dogs we were coming.
Guess it was too much to hope it would be that easy.
Compiling a list, I saved them in a separate file for Wes to look over when he did his deep dive, double-checking their financials, seeing if there was any financial gain from the transaction.
Everyone who worked for the Hidden Empire did as they were told.
They were well paid for the jobs, but we did compensation after they did them, not before.
Personally, I preferred to pay them based on the skill they used to do the job.
Shitty job, shitty pay. It kept things simple and held people accountable for their actions.
“Dax, come to bed. You can keep working on that tomorrow,” Cognac called out to me.
When I didn’t answer him, a hand came down and closed the lid to the laptop, forcing me to look up from the screen. Cognac gave me his signature smile, trying to keep me from getting upset with him.
“Loba, you need to give it a break. You’ve been working on this nonstop since we got back. I know this is important, and I understand your drive behind it, but a tired mind makes mistakes,” Cognac cautioned.
I took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh but allowed him to pull me up from the couch.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise I’d have stabbed you for closing the laptop like that.
What if you had canceled something that was super important?
Maybe it didn’t save automatically, you don’t know. That was kind of a big risk you took.”
“Ah, loba. When will learn I love to live my life on the edge? The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward. Look what happened. Now you’re coming with me and sleeping in my bed for the night,” Cognac purred, running his lips along my neck.
“Most people can’t pull off the whole cocky-yet-endearing vibe.
Yet somehow, it works for you. Don’t ask me how,” I commented as I grabbed his hand and headed for the stairs.
“Come on, let’s go to bed before I change my mind.
Although that could still happen, you could wake up in the middle of the night tied to your bed. I’m unpredictable that way.”
“As long as you take advantage of me before you leave, I’ll be just fine. It’s a crime to leave a man tied up and unsatisfied.”
“Really, and who made up that rule?” I teased. “Fine, I promise if I have to tie you up and leave you in the middle of the night, I’ll make sure to at least give you a blow job or something.”
“Warning, I’m a sound sleeper so make sure I’m awake when you do that so I get to experience the moment,” Cognac shared, giving me a wink as he opened the door to his bedroom.
His room was exactly what you were picturing—dark-toned wood, black silk sheets, soft rugs on the floor.
Everything about it was sensual and inviting.
The most eye-catching of it all was a painting above his bed.
It was of a woman sprawled out on her back, across the bed, looking up at you, her face flushed after being pleasured.
It was one of my earlier works as the unknown and elusive Pink Lady.
I was curious to see what Cognac would do when he found out I was the one who painted it.
“I have to say, I really like your taste in paintings. Where’d you get it?” I asked, walking to the foot of the bed.
“I got it years ago at a small boutique art gallery in the city. I don’t know what it is about the painting, but something just spoke to me.
It’s like she can stare into your soul,” Cognac mused.
“I know you’re a fan of art. Picasso said something about you liking to paint as well. What’s your style?”
“You could say that I enjoy dabbling in painting from time to time. I’ve even put a few up for sale in a small art gallery in the city.
Harper would say that my best art comes when I’m sexually frustrated, absolutely pleased, or when my internal pain needs a way to be released,” I shared, turning to sit on the edge of the bed.
“This painting I did after one of the most horrible experiences in bed. This is how I wanted to look when things were over. I figured I’d paint something to show men this expression could be made on a woman if they tried hard enough. ”
His gaze snapped from the painting to meet mine.
His jaw fell open as he connected the dots to what I’d just said.
A wide smile bloomed on his face as his eyes shined with humor.
“Why am I not surprised you’re the woman who painted this?
It’s almost as if the universe is telling us we were always meant to be together because you’ll never leave my bed without a matching expression on your face. ”
I reached out, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and pulled him down until my lips whispered over his. “You talk a big game. Let’s see if you’ve got the actions to back it up when you’re not in the bathroom of a diner or sharing the stage with another.”
“Loba, that’s a challenge I’ll absolutely accept.”
Without further encouragement, he closed the gap between our lips and feasted on me like I was his last meal, shoving me down onto the bed as his hands slipped under my shirt.
His large hands were rough against my skin, making me shiver as he pulled my shirt off.
I’d ditched the sling hours ago while I was working on the computer.
“I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated small boobs as much as I have on you.
It always gets me hard knowing there’s nothing between what I want to get my hands on other than a simple shirt,” Cognac murmured along the skin of the valley between my breasts.
“It’s something so simple yet sexier than I ever could have imagined. ”
Gathering up handfuls of his shirt, I yanked it over his head so our bodies could touch flesh to flesh.
I moaned as he latched his mouth onto one of my nipples, rolling it around with his tongue.
Cognac was definitely ready for this challenge.
He was going to make me beg for what I wanted.
No other way to get there but to pay the toll, whatever he decided that would be.
He switched from one breast to the other, showing that one just as much affection.
He pinched my nipple with his fingers, rolling and tugging, bringing me to that perfect place of pain and pleasure.
“Pants off now,” I ordered as my pussy started to ache between my legs.
Cognac chuckled. “So bossy, always telling people what to do. Tonight, my dear loba, you’re at my mercy.”
With that statement, Cognac pulled back, lifting me into a sitting position before he grabbed my hips.
He flipped me so I was on all fours facing my painting as he stripped my pants off.
He took the time to nuzzle one of my ass cheeks as he roughly massaged the other.
There was a pause, and I could hear the wrestling of jeans as he kicked them off.
He crawled onto the bed, pulling me more toward the middle.
He positioned himself so I was resting my chest on his lap, one hand in my hair pulling my head back and the other finding its way into my pussy. Each time I tried to fight his hold or wriggle to get him to put his fingers deeper inside me, he’d pull his hand out and slap me on the ass.
“You aren’t the one in charge tonight, loba, I am,” Cognac stated.
Hearing the man who’s usually the most laid back and flirty sound so controlling and authoritative set my skin on fire.
I let my moan slip out as he finger fucked me even harder and faster as if to prove his point.
My ass started to burn with the heat of his slaps as I refused to make this easy on him.
If he wanted to be in charge that badly, he was going to need to prove it.
With a growl, he pulled his fingers out of me.
Grabbing my hips, he lifted them, pressing my head onto the mattress so I was face down, ass up in the air before he crawled around behind me.
I didn’t have to wait long to see what his plan was as his mouth descended upon my pussy, his tongue diving inside, licking me as if I was the tastiest ice cream cone he’d ever had.
That wasn’t all he was playing with, though.
His other fingers, damp with my slickness, played with my asshole.
It was almost as if he couldn’t decide which hole he wanted to play with first, so why choose? Am I right?
Deciding my pussy was ready enough for him, he moved his mouth to my asshole. I couldn’t say I’ve ever had somebody eat me out with so much enthusiasm before. “Any requests on where I start? Back or front, top or bottom? Before we’re through, both will have had a taste of my cock.”
“All I’ll say to that is if you expect me to put it in my mouth after you shoved it inside me, it better be my pussy. I don’t eat shit,” I informed him.
A sexy chuckle rumbled from behind me as I felt his dick nudging at my pussy. “Guess that makes the decision for me because I plan on shoving it down your throat. The filthy things that come out of it have to mean good things come from it.”