Page 56 of The Diamond Thief
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Jade
Ihave no idea what I’m doing.
My intent was to get naked enough that I could get these crazy panties around his wrists without doing something bizarre like randomly stripping.
I should’ve taken my opportunity to get the hell out of here as soon as I put them on his wrists. But I didn’t. In fact, not only have I not left, I am naked again, with his cock in my mouth.
What the hell is happening to me? This man is the most ridiculous, infuriating asshole of a man.
But somehow, I want him.
God, he doesn’t even know who I really am. And what will he think when he learns? I can’t tell anybody what is happening. This goes straight to the top of two very large crime rings.
But I can’t help it. I want this. And I want him.
His erection is so swollen, he has got to be on fire.
I lift my eyes to look at him. He’s watching me, a strange mixture of ecstasy and surprise on his face. I know what he’s thinking. Stupidly perfect sexual fit.
I always knew we would be. He just hasn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together yet.
I slide my mouth off him with aching slowness. His erection is practically feverish, so purple-red and hot, bound at the base.
I stand up and step about a foot away.
His jaw gets tight. I can imagine what he’s thinking. That I will leave him here, tied at the wrists, his own belt around the base of his cock. This does not sound like a very good way to die, and I’m not completely sure I want to do that to him.
Actually, I know what I want. I straddle him, both knees up on the bed. As I lower down onto his lap, he slides into me with silky smoothness.
The pleasure flows through me. Twenty lovers, at least, and he would have to be the one. Jacob Holt. Misogynistic first-rank in Antony’s Den. The enemy. The competition.
But he was always the one. Before I knew how terrible he was, how perfectly awful.
And now, I do know, and I still can’t let go of him. The fantasy crashes against the reality. The past and the present. Of course I would have chosen him as my target. How could I have picked anyone else?
I slide back up, then come crashing back down. Jacob doesn’t know it, but I have controlled every part of this entire act. From the arrival at his door a week ago to now.
Probably, I control whether he lives or dies. Maybe not in this bunker. But outside of it.
I just knew I’d met him once before, a long time ago, and I could never forget him.
And I hated the man he became. Arrogant, woman-hating jerk.
Yet here I was. I work him up and down, every emotion coursing through me. Pleasure, regret, and tender emotions that I do not wish to even acknowledge. As much relief as I felt that he did not recognize me when I showed up at his door, now I despair. I had been forgotten.
My hands grip his shoulders. His face is tight. I don’t know what it feels like for him, but it must be the worst sort of combination of ecstasy and agony.
I reach between my thighs and tug at the belt. It loosens, and I toss it away. Jacob does more than groan. He growls, a feral sound that grows in volume until it’s a roar.
His hands are still bound, but he manages to thrust up inside me, giving as much as I am.
I force myself down, meeting him as he rises up, until we crash against each other. I can barely catch my breath, and my heart beats so hard it feels like it might explode.
“Jade,” he breathes.
“I know.”
