Chapter 23 #2
He expels a husky chuckle, curling his hand along the base of his shaft.
“On the contrary, little lamb…” He glides his fist up and down the length of his cock, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen contracting with each calculated pump.
“I can do whatever I want.” He lets out a tiny groan, and I swear my panties dampen in seconds. “And do you know what I want to do?”
I absentmindedly slip off the barstool. It’s like I’m under an enchantment, a wicked spell that twists my thoughts into a chaotic flurry of lust and starvation. I float toward him like an apparition desperate for connection.
“What do you want to do, Theodore?"
He threads his fingers through the back of my hair, grip tight. “I want to fuck that pretty little throat of yours, Safia.” His hooded eyes flit across my wanton features, and he growls, “I want you to taste me for the rest of the fucking day.”
Some spells are cast with malice, with the intent to harm and torture, but as I sink down on my knees and open my willing lips, the magic of his wishes feels more pure than anything I’ve ever felt before.
“Jesus Christ,” Theo hisses as I surge forward, the tip of his cock bashing against my tonsils. He palms the back of my head as I bob up and down. My cheeks concave as I suck him off with the perfect amount of pressure, the perfect amount of force. “Fucking hell…”
I curl both hands around his shaft as I glide back and forth, teasing the tip of his dick with my tongue. He tastes like the vast mystery of the endless ocean, salty and sweet and full of earth-defying wonders.
“Fuck, baby. Slow down.” He groans, the roots of my hair at his goddamn mercy as he tugs and yanks.
“Fuck.” His hips buck forward, and I smirk to myself.
I may be putty in his hands but he’s a puppet in mine.
I want to see him dance. I want to see him beg.
Just this once, I want to be the lion. “Safia—I’m going to… ”
I immediately slow down, my breathing ragged as I peer up at him through dark lashes.
Theo’s phone rings, but we both ignore it.
“I want you to come inside of me, Agent Kane.” I bite my bottom lip, stroking his length. “Can you do that for me?”
Lions are predators because they’re strong. And Theo… Theo’s a fucking beast. With anger burning in his irises, he hoists me up to my feet, the veins in his arms protruded and thick. He slams my chest against the kitchen island, viciously yanking my skirt up and my panties down.
“You’re a fucking brat,” he growls, slapping my ass with zero restraint. I yelp, jerking forward, knocking mugs and keys onto the floors as he repeatedly reddens my cheeks.
“Theo…”
“Patience, little lamb.” He glides his finger along my sex, and I moan, arching my back. He dips a finger inside of me, then two, then three, and my eyes widen at the invasion. “Bounce, Safia.” His tone is low and devious. “Bounce your pussy on my fingers.”
I gasp, cheeks flush and embarrassed, but God, it feels too good, and I need more. I always need more. He’s right, I am a brat. An obedient little brat.
“Such a good girl,” Theo rasps as I bounce up and down on his fingers, the pressure building in my core. Retreating, he snakes a hand around the base of my throat, yanking me toward his chest. “Now… what was that you wanted?”
“I—” He doesn’t let me get a word out before he slams inside me. Theo rocks his hips, his cock stretching my walls with each thrust. He’s not slow. He’s not tender. Every movement, every touch, every kiss and lick and slap is rough and hard and oh-so-fucking magical. “Oh God.”
He may as well be a god. He fulfills my wish. He explodes inside of me, and I relish in knowing that I own him, just as much as he owns me.
Theo’s heavy breaths swirl with mine as we collapse on the counter. He kisses the slope of my neck, his skin sweaty and sticky. I close my eyes as I reach up to touch his cheek.
Suddenly, Theo grabs my wrist.
“Jesus, Safia, you’re bleeding.”
With all the strength I can muster, I open my eyes to find a small gash on the inside of my palm.
“Oh…”
Theo runs a frustrated hand through his hair as his cell phone rings again. “I’ll get you a Band-Aid.”
Forcing myself back down to earth, I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ll get it. You should answer your phone. I think it’s been ringing this whole time.”
Theo hesitates, but I pull down my skirt and duck around him, glaring at the broken coffee mug on the floor. My knees wobble as I walk to the utility closet and open the door. I glance around for the red first aid kit. And then I freeze, my gaze landing on the empty spot on the top shelf.
The box with my books is gone.
Frowning, I reach for the first aid kit and sneak off into the bathroom.
What did he do with the books? Did he throw them away? Donate them? But why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?
A dull pain pulses in my temples.
When I finish in the bathroom, I come out to find Theo slipping on a pair of jeans.
“They found another body,” he says. “Ever been to the Hamptons?”
“The Hamptons?”
“The vic is Senator Hank Jefferies, found inside the locker room at Marigold Country Club.”
My pulse quickens.
Did he say Marigold Country Club?