Page 131 of Secrets That Bind Us
I don’t reply, just watching the intensity in those twin sapphires of his turn molten. “Oh yeah, I bet you’re a downright dirty-”
Oh God.
“-filthyfucking girl. You need your sweet little pussy eaten, don’t you? You want it to be used and abused, fucked so thoroughly you can’t walk? Don’t lie to me, sweetheart, I can practically smell you from here. The way your cheeks are blushing and your eyes are dilating are telling me everything I need to know. See, I’m observant, too. You said you’re here for a date, and I bet you my suite upstairs that you were hoping to get fucked so hard and into oblivion you ain’t even wearing panties. Am I right?” he rasps, tilting his head so he can give me direct eye contact.
It’s too much.
But then I whimper because yes, he’s right.
It makes him chuckle, and his hand drops between my thighs, inching upwards. My legs involuntarily spread, daring him to touch. To ignite me further. His fingers trail higher until they’re on my exposed slit. I glance away from his fiery scrutiny to see the bartender tending to other patrons, seeing everyone else is still enraptured in their own lives, not caring about us.
Just two souls trapped together in our own world we simulated together. A fantasy. But so, so real.
He swirls his finger around my clit and I inhale sharply. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” He orders me, and I do. “Jesus, baby, you’re fuckingdrenched.”
“Detective Carson…” I whimper.
I hold in my gasp when he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep into me, licking the corner of his lower lip, where it’s drawn up in a smirk. “Tell me, sweetheart, you ever been in cuffs?”
I swallow thickly and shake my head.
He leans back, and I follow instinctively, wanting more of his warmth to surround me, almost tumbling out of my seat. It makesDetective Carsonchuckle, then oh, so inconspicuously, helicks his fingers. “Fuck, that’s good.” He growls, and I swear I melt. He pulls his wallet out from the inside of his suit jacket and hands it to the bartender. “Mine.” He says when the barkeep takes it from him, and then, “And hers.”
“I can pay for myself.” I argue pathetically.
“Oh, I'm pretty sure you can, sweetheart, but I'm old school. If I’m gonna fuck a woman without knowing her name, the least I can do is buy her drinks.” He quirks, but the fire in his eyes is anything but friendly. It’s menacing and promising further destruction. I cross my legs and press them together to help ease the ache of his absence. He sees the little show and stands as soon as his credit card is back in his wallet. He holds his hand out to me. “What do you say, Sweetheart? Want to experience a night with a stranger?”
I give barely a dip of my chin, grabbing my glass of wine and downing the rest of it quickly. I catch the eye of the bartender, and he smirks my way. I send him a wink and turn to face my stranger. My muse. And take his hand.
He leads me to the empty elevator, presses a button, and encases me against the wall like he did so many years ago, reaching between my parted legs. “I want you to know I’m going to tear you to fucking shreds, gorgeous. Once you’re in that room, I'm not stopping. I intend to use every surface available– ruining it and you. God, you smell fucking divine.” He purrs.
“Burberry,” I choke when his fingers plunge into my soaking pussy again.
He sinks to his knees and hooks my leg over his shoulder, shoving his nose between my thighs and inhales deeply. “And this? That Burberry, too?”
“No!” I groan when his tongue flicks rapidly against my clit, his fingers fucking into me so expertly I’m already seconds away from breaking. I put my hands in his hair and shove his face deeper into my pussy, needing more of him.
“That’s it, sweetheart, ride my fucking tongue.”
“Dean!”
“That’s not my name tonight. Stick to your script,sweetheart.” He chastises. I could arguehe’slost his lilt. We’re both breaking for the other already. Too soon, he’s pulling away from me, his chin slick with my arousal, and smooths down my skirt for me just as the doors to the elevator open and there’s an older couple standing there. He grabs my hand and tugs me to what I’m guessing is the large suite he rented for the weekend. All I did was mention this fantasy-slash-”research” idea for my next book and he took care of everything else.
“Fuck me like you hate me,”had been my only request.
I have no idea what to expect. As soon as the door shuts behind us, he throws his jacket off and has me pinned to it, crushing his lips to mine so I taste myself.
Detective Carson reaches down to hike and hook my leg over his hip, pressing his very hard length against me, and I know– I just know– I’m leaving a wet spot on his trousers the moment his tongue dips between my lips. He groans, “Goddammit, you taste like sin, sweetheart. So fucking delicious.”
It takes him no time to reach behind me and race the zipper of my dress down the teeth so it falls away, then bend down and lift me. But instead of taking me to the bed, he sets me down on the nearest sofa, breaking from our kiss. After ripping off his tie and shirt, he rests a hand on my sternum and pushes me back gently. Once I’m flat on my back, he unfastens his belt, pulling it from the loops in his slacks, sapphire eyes narrowed into slits as he peers down at me with hooded eyes full of something needy yet primal. Lust. Love. It’s a promise of sweet, dedicated torture.
And I want it.
My breasts ache, feeling heavy as fuck, and I almost whimper in embarrassment when my nipples begin to leak. It makes Detective Carson smile down wickedly at me from above while he loops his belt around mythroat. “That’s a sexy fucking sight, sweetheart. Best believe I’m gonna suck those pretty heavy tits and have you feed me.”
Oh my fucking God.
The buckle of the belt is secure at the side of my throat, and only then does he unfasten his slacks with his free hand and let them drop, stepping out of them. His cock is so hard and jutting out before him. “Are you clean?”
