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Authors: Lainey Reese

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BOOK: Damaged Goods
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Then he lowered his head, swirled his tongue around the honey pot and followed that splashing trail. When he reached the point where curls gave way to the delicate pink folds of flesh, he eased back. Her panties were dainty and sexy as hell, but they were in his way.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” was all he said and then snapped them from her hips with one firm yank. Her gasp and whimper was the perfect soundtrack to accompany what would come next. She was already open thanks to the restraints. Her pubic hair was close-trimmed and didn’t cover the fragile lips of her sex. They were stretched wide and glistening. Her clit was slightly enlarged from the little they had done so far, and Brice was determined to see it swell even more before he was through.

“Such a pretty little pussy you have here, Terryn,” he complimented. He ran one thick finger around the edge of her inner labia, tracing a teasing arch over her clit without actually touching it. “What do you call it?”

“M-my…” She squirmed when he hit a particularly good spot, then sighed, “My g-g.”

He shook his head slowly as he continued to circle and trace the tiny part of her that was growing more plump and damp by the second. “Such a silly name for such an important thing.” He rubbed harder, still only grazing one side and then the other of that sensitive bundle of nerves, and he could see she struggled not to beg. “G-g is what a little girl would have. Not a beautiful woman. This lovely, glistening flesh should have a name that matches it.”

He traced lower now and found her core melting with juice and heat. It coated the two fingers he used to circle her opening and then slide back between the cheeks of her ass. When the muscles there tensed in shock, he deliberately circled her rim before sliding back to stroke and lightly pinch her outer lips.

“I like pussy. Or core. Or, if I’m feeling especially barbaric, I will call it your cunt. I like the word cunt—it’s raw and carnal. It makes me think of all the raw and carnal things I want to do to it.”

Terryn whimpered, and Brice felt a shudder go through her. Her clit was so engorged now he knew that it would take very little to bring her to orgasm. He marveled that the men from her past had trouble satisfying such a responsive woman.

He blew on it lightly, and Terryn’s whimpers turned to a moan. He drenched one fingertip in the nectar all but dripping from her and slid it slowly and firmly right up to her clit. She squeaked. He again rubbed first one side then the next, careful not to rub over the crest of it, lest she come too quickly. Her leg muscles started to quiver. Next he leaned forward and did the same thing with his tongue. Gone were the whimpers—now she groaned.

It was a mistake. He’d wanted to tease her more. He’d wanted to make her first time in restraints a long, sweaty affair that she would always remember. One taste of her, however, and he knew wouldn’t stop. She was slick with arousal, and her velvety flesh felt like heaven under his tongue. With a growl, he forgot his intentions and sucked the pearl of her clitoris into his mouth. He laved it like his favorite piece of hard candy, then thought he’d go mad when she screamed and started climaxing right then.

He didn’t let up, didn’t think it was possible to at this point. He needed more and angled lower to fuck her with his tongue. She bucked again in her restraints, her screams escalating while his tongue danced in and out of her. With both hands, he reached for the globes of her ass and, with another primal growl, pulled her tight to his face. He wanted to drown in her. He wanted to gorge himself on her until his body was covered with her juice. With a wail that fired up every neuron in his brain, she came again.

Slowly, he stood up, so he could suck and bite and lick his way up her delectable body inch by inch. When he got to her still-covered breasts, he shoved the offending material down with a snarl and sucked one pebbled nipple into his mouth. At the same time, he slid two thick fingers into her still-fluttering sheath. The combined actions set off another piercing orgasm in her, and Brice felt ten fucking feet tall. He pumped hard with his hand, barely remembering to be careful not to hurt her in his passion. After an eternity, he released her breast with a last soft bite and stood to his full height.

He kept his hand lodged deep and flexing as her core continued to pulse around his fingers. He looked into her glazed, unfocused eyes and asked, “Is this what you hoped for?” He leaned down and licked his tongue into her open and panting mouth. “Does this live up to your dreams?”

Another lick, then he sucked her plump bottom lip into his mouth and bit down just hard enough to make her gasp. It also made her pussy clench on his fingers. “God, sweetheart, I could keep you like this forever.”

She pleased him right down to the ground when she moaned, “Yes, please,” and nodded her head.

“I wanna fuck you, Terryn. I wanna fuck you right here and now. I want to fuck you while you’re spread and ready for me. If you aren’t ready for that, say pickles now. If you don’t, I’m going to fuck you hard and fast and I won’t stop until you’re begging.”

Her glazed eyes slowly came into focus and he saw her try to concentrate. He made himself stop moving. He couldn’t quite bring himself to dislodge his fingers or step back—he was only a man, after all—but he held still and let her think.

He didn’t get the chance to hear her answer. Just then, there was a discrete tap on his shoulder. He turned with a snarl, ready to pummel the person who dared to interrupt his scene and saw Candy the check-in girl.

“I’m sorry, Master Brice,” she whispered with her head down and hands shaking. “I never would have bothered you, but your phone is going off in your locker. You said that I was supposed to come get you no matter what if it ever did that and, well…it did.”

Brice bit off a nasty curse and immediately regretted it when Candy took a hasty step back. “It’s all right, Candy. You were right to come and get me. Thank you.” With a deep breath, he tried to wrestle his libido into submission. “Look, I have to go—that will be important. Will you help Terryn get home when I leave?”

“Oh, yes, Master,” she replied, eager to please. “I’d love to. I’ll take extra special care.” Brice smiled at her and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek, then turned back to Terryn, who was slowly coming back to her senses.

“Oh, little fireball,” Brice said, looking his fill at her—stretched, naked and very well used. “I have to leave. Nothing short of murder could pull me away at a moment like this, so I have no choice. It’s work. Nobody else would call me this late.” As he spoke, he started unbuckling and checking her limbs just in case the restraints had hurt her. “A Dom should always see to aftercare. It’s my job to make sure you are pampered and well-tended after offering so much of yourself and pleasing me so well.” As soon as she was free, he took the thick robe Candy had thoughtfully snagged and slipped it on Terryn.

“I want to see you again very soon. I don’t have the right to be making any demands, but I will make a request.” He cupped her softly pointed chin in his palm and looked deep into her eyes. “I would ask that you not come here again without me. I would ask that you allow me to be your Dom, at least for now.” He brushed a fiery lock of hair back from her check and gently rubbed her earlobe between two fingers. “I am not usually a possessive man but I find I don’t like the thought of another Dom touching you.” Then he smiled and leaned down to whisper, “At least not without me there to watch.”

Terryn gasped and let out a little moan. He smiled and thought she just might be perfect for him, if that thought turned her on. “So, will you wait for me?”

At first she took so long to answer he thought she was going to decline—he didn’t like to think about what that did to his insides—then she nodded.

“Good,” he said, and kissed her full and deep. “That’s real good. Candy will give you my number and make sure she gets yours to me. I have to go.”

To Candy he said, “Take care of her and when you get a cab for her, make sure she gets in it.” He winked at Terryn and went to his locker.

He was a homicide cop. If he got called in to work after-hours, that meant only one thing—someone was dead. His libido would have to wait. He quickly gathered his things, and his phone went off just as he was leaving. With a snarl and a curse, Brice answered as he headed for the door. 

Chapter Five

Katie Jernigan was tiny. According to her driver’s license she was only five-one. In death she looked a lot smaller. Her miniature figure was crumpled on its side in the fetal position. Her small arms were slashed to ribbons where they had curled over her head, fruitlessly trying to protect her face from the relentless hacking of a knife. Several of her fingers were severed and lying around her while what remained were hanging on by threads of tendons and muscle tissue. If he were to judge by her clothing, she’d been out on a date. She was wearing a slinky black dress, high heels and matching jewelry. However the date had started out, it hadn’t ended well.

The streetlamp was a ghastly spotlight on her crumpled form in the deserted parking lot. Brice crouched down to look closely at her without disturbing the scene. The forensic guys were snapping away with their cameras and until they were sure they’d gotten every inch and every possible angle of the crime scene, nobody was touching anything.

“Poor baby,” he murmured to her when he could see under her arms. “It didn’t help, did it? Bastard still got your pretty face.” Pity wrenched his stomach into a hard ball of fury when he saw the jagged slice that split her cheek clean in two. The slash had been so vicious that it’d cut through the gum as well, displacing several of her teeth. There was a sickening pattern to the multiple stab wounds spread over her. They were deep and wild and committed with a brutal abandon that he had become all too familiar with lately. He gazed over the damage with a sinking heart and recognized the signature of Amber’s killer as if the prick had signed his fucking name.

The attack had been aimed at her head. Chunks of scalp and what had once been streaky blonde hair lay scattered among the blood puddles surrounding her. Her ear with its dangling black earring was resting about three inches too high on her head. His guess? It must’ve got caught on the knife and plunked back down as her killer had kept stabbing. Her arms and shoulder got the worst of it; the shoulder looked like the psycho had tried to hack it off completely. There were a couple stabs to the ribs and kidney area that looked to him like they were thrown in for good measure after the killing frenzy had passed. They weren’t as deep or clustered together as the ones surrounding her head.

He’d have to wait for the official report to be sure, but he’d bet his ass she’d been alive long into this attack. Brice knew there wasn’t a thing he could do about that. About the pain and terror she must’ve gone through. But he could damn well make sure that she was the last girl this fucker butchered. He looked back to her face, saw past the damage to the girl and he made a promise that that’s just what he would do.

“Fuck,” Kent knelt down next to Brice and saw all that he did. “You recognize her, right? I hate this job.”

“No,” Brice returned without looking up. “You love it as much as I do.”

“Are you kidding?” Kent’s voice dripped with disgust at the waste of such a young life. “Nobody could fucking love this.”

“No. Not this. But we’re gonna love putting this fucker in a cage.”

 

 

It was past dawn when Brice and Kent called time out and headed for their homes again. They had done all they could and needed down time and some sleep before they could take the next step. The precinct would send grievance counselors to inform her parents since they were out of state, so that was one duty off their shoulders. Meanwhile they would be tracing all of Katie’s steps backward for the last days leading to her death. It was routine. Standard procedure. The thing was, nine times out of ten, standard procedures led them to the killer. No murder was perfect. There were always clues, and if he and his partner were good enough they would get the bastard and end this now.

Six hours later, Brice and Kent found themselves at the Surf-N-Slurp. “What a small world,” Kent quipped. “Imagine, Amber and Katie working together. This could be just the break we need.”

Brice smiled at the sweet woman at the counter. She had a fairly vacant look on her face, almost as though she wasn’t quite sure what was going on around her and was more than a little surprised to find herself here. She was just shy of thirty years old and had a strong, solid build, not the wiry model-thin look that so many New York women had. Her blonde hair was thick and shiny. In Brice’s opinion it was her best feature—it framed her pleasant face nicely and went well with her light blue eyes.

“Hello, officers,” she greeted when she saw them, not quite making eye contact. “Welcome back. Can I get you something? Or are you here with news?”

“Hi, Mandy.” He shook his head when she lifted a tray of muffins for him and Kent. “No sweets for me, thanks. I’ll take a large drip coffee, no sugar, easy on the cream. Kent?”

“I’ll have a double tall monkey madness with an extra shot of hazelnut.” Kent said around a mouth full of the muffin.

Brice shook his head in awe. “Seriously? Dude? You’re a cop. Where’s your dignity, man?”

“Hey, back off my monkey madness,” Kent said with all the dignity he had at his disposal considering that his cheeks were packed with double chocolate muffin and his coffee of choice was named after a zoo animal.

“You eat like an eight-year-old.” Brice thought back and couldn’t remember ever having a stomach that could take that much sugar in one sitting, even when he had been eight.

“Well, my diet keeps me young.” Kent struggled to choke down a lump of gooey chocolate as he debated with Brice.

“Wrong,” Brice shot back. “Your diet will put you in an early grave and in the meantime it just makes you immature. Which is a far cry from young, my friend.”

Kent ignored the taunt, having heard it a million times by now, and gulped down his first hot swallow of chocolaty, nutty, banana coffee goodness with undisguised relish.

BOOK: Damaged Goods
8.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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