Page 33 of Bastard

She was definitely up for this.

After a few slow pumps I got a feel for the angle and depth, but more than the friction caused by our two bodies, was the simple thought of how I was holding her down. The angle turned out to be perfect too. The desk was just high enough that I slid right into her tight channel.

I pumped faster. It was a different experience without her watching or the occasional eye contact. It put the focus on me, which was what Sam wanted when she walked in here anyway. So what did I want? To bury my dick deep inside her pussy and feel it squeeze around me just as I yank it away, only to bury it right back inside. I wanted that give and take, to focus on it and really feel what it did to me.

I slammed deep. Held for just a moment. Her muscles locked around me like a vice, sending feelings of euphoria to my brain, along with a feeling of victory. I cocked my hips and yanked back, withdrawing to the head of my erection and then thrust forward as hard as I could, all while holding her down. This meant there was no bounce, no reverberation when my hips collided with hers. She had to take the full impact, and that energy bounced back at me.

“Fucking hell that’s good.”

“It’s intense. So intense. Do it again,” she breathed.

I shoved her full of cock and took it away. Over and over. Filling her up and then emptying her out. Sometimes just to the edge, my head massaging her bundle of nerves for that moment before I pushed back inside. Other times I pulled all the way out, made her take all of me all over again. Those were the times she cried out the loudest, arching her back, but not her hips. Those weren’t going anywhere.

I pumped into her faster, looking for friction now instead of depth. I angled my hips for her pleasure and was very pleased when she slapped her palms against the desk with a scream as she came. I slammed deep, feeling all of her orgasm as it rippled through her core, squeezing my dick from root to tip.

That’s when I switched things up. Just a little. I pressed my forearm across her hips, holding her down with one arm instead of two hands. I pressed more of my weight down, increasing the sensation that she was my captive.

Sam kept moaning. Mostly incoherent now. “Oh yes. Oh yes. Good. So good.”

As she rode the orgasm wave I sped back up, fucking her like I did in my dreams. Where there were no rules and no physical boundaries. I reached up and flicked the paperclips, pounding away at her pussy. I pressed my other hand between her breasts, putting some of my weight there too. Then, finally, made my way up to her shoulder, hooking a hand over the top so I could push her body down onto my dick. We began to inch off the edge. I didn’t care. I kept pounding, kept searching for that little more. Her tits were flying now. Up and down in a blur of nipples and paper clip. She moaned almost constantly.

It was fucking beautiful.

And like lightning hit from out of nowhere on a clear day, my orgasm barreled down my spine, catching my off guard. I came hard, thrust deep, holding her down on me as I spilled into her.

“I’m close. So close,” she whispered.

So I pulled off the paperclips. The sudden change in sensation pushed her over the edge with me. Her orgasm was sharp and borderline painful. The squeeze harder than ever as she came apart. I kept thrusting with my hips to give her something.

“You’re there, baby. You’re there.”

13

Home Run stood guard outside while Sam and I went into Georgia’s office.

She had on one of those bright red dresses that made me think she liked to look like her jewelry. And speaking of jewelry, most of it accented the dress. Lots of gold. The rest just blinded me.

“Jace. Good to see you again.” She held out her hand.

I took it and kissed the cheek she offered me. “Georgia.” One of the things I appreciated about our budding relationship was the lack of bullshit. She was straight with me and I respected her enough to do the same. “We have no idea who shot the weapon yesterday.”

“No leads?” She cocked an eyebrow. “How unlike you. What about your outlaw contacts?”

A woman completely unafraid of bending rules. “There’s no chatter there either.”

“So not Feyereisen instigated?” She kissed Samantha on the cheek and waved at the bar, silently asking if we’d like refreshments.

“Coffee,” Sam said.

I waved a no. “There’s no connection to the Dragons. Their clubhouse was quiet yesterday and several members were seen on a drug run upstate.”

“Hmmm.” The older woman’s eyes unfocused. It was uncanny how much she looked like an older version of Sam. They even made a lot of the same facial expressions, which I wouldn’t have expected from genetics alone. That seemed more of the nurture end of the nature vs nurture argument. “So what are your thoughts? What’s your…instinct, outlaw.”

Ah, yet another name to add to my list. I didn’t hate it when Georgia said it though. She said it with respect. No…with hope that my experience and skills would be useful.

“We’re currently looking into the possibility it’s one of the conspiracy theorists.”

Her eyebrows rose, then she traded a look with Samantha. “How does it feel to be a clone?” That got a giggle out of Sam. “Personally I’m waiting for them to suggest you’re a Roark android and the company has been taken over by their own robots.”

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