Diva (Ironclad Bodyguards Book 2) (18 page)

Ransom gazed down
at her, shaking his head. There had to be some flaw in her reasoning, but he ached for her, he
hurt
for her, and she was right there, nuzzling him and teasing his senses. He’d never gone fully soft, but now his cock surged even straighter, bucking against her hand. A drop of precum escaped, and she traced her fingertip through the slick fluid, swirling it around the head. He started shaking again.

“Lola, you make me into an awful person.”

“Good.” She took his hand and drew him to the bed. “Because I don’t want to be awful alone.”

He knew it meant disaster, but he went with her, crawling onto the same bed where he’d just attacked her. He shook his head even as he covered her and stroked his knuckles down her cheek. She was so young, so soft, so raw, so dangerously beguiling. She called to every fiber of his being, and he couldn’t figure out why. If he knew, he might be able to fight against it. As it was, he was lost.

He kissed her the way he’d wanted to kiss her for days now, not angrily, but not gently either. He kissed her lips, her nose, her eyes, her forehead, her delicate pink wisps of hair. She clutched him as he explored her with his mouth. “Don’t think about before,” she whispered. “Forget it happened. Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.” He kissed down the line of her neck to her breasts, tracing her nipples with his tongue while she made agonized noises.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “Shh. I’ll make everything better.”

She shivered as his breath blew across her skin. She drove him mad with her responsiveness, the way every touch or breath elicited squirms of bliss. She was definitely going to bliss out over what he planned to do next.

He slid lower, drawing her thighs wide and holding her open with his shoulders. Her fingers twisted in his hair as he parted her pussy lips, baring her swollen clit. Before he even touched his mouth to that sensitive flesh, she began to quake.

“Oh, I can’t.” She sighed. “I can’t even…”

The first swipe of his tongue brought a rough moan. He held her hips as she arched against his mouth.

“I thought you might like that,” he said, and then he went to work.

One thing about being an ex-porn star—he knew his way around the female body. He’d learned to eat pussy—on and off screen—with far more skill and appreciation than the average man.
Lick, suck, pinch, titillate…

He drove his tongue against her clit and then teased up and down her slit. When her voice rose to a wail, he massaged her pussy lips, then focused on her clit again. He teased with the tip of his tongue until she begged for more, then shoved a finger inside her to find her G-spot.

Another thing about being an ex-porn star—he knew how to find a G-spot.

The resulting climax was a gorgeous sight to behold. Her body trembled uncontrollably as she bucked against his mouth, gasping out words that made no sense. It didn’t matter. He understood. She yanked him up by the hair and he went, chuckling as she mashed her lips to his. She scratched at his arms as he held himself over her. “I want you,” she breathed. “I want your cock.”

“I bet you do.” He palmed his throbbing length, glad for his other porn-star power. He could hold off as long as he had to, to give her everything she wanted. Epic staying power had been a necessity in the porn business. Based on Lola’s exorbitant sexual energy, it would be a necessity now.

“You want this?” he taunted, tracing fingers up the jagged lightning bolt on his cock.

“Yes. Please, Ransom…” Her voice trailed off. Was she blushing? “I actually kind of want the painal.”

“
Kind of
want it?” He repeated her tentative words, wondering at her bravado. Painal: Anal sex that hurt, preferably in a good way. If she wanted it to hurt, he could hurt her without really hurting her. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

She nodded. Of course she nodded, she was crazy. Why did he forget that all the time, when it was one of the things about her that sucked him in?

“All right.” He climbed off the bed and went for a condom, and lube. “Just remember you asked for it.”

He rolled on a rubber and made a big deal of skimping on the lubricant while she grinned maniacally from the bed. When he finished, he put on his show face and stalked to her. She pretended to scramble away, but didn’t fight very hard when he caught her by one leg and dragged her back. When she tried to turn over, he barked “No” and made her stay on her back. He wanted to see every minute of this, every note of emotion and discomfort.

He spread her legs, hooking them over his arms, and shoved a couple slick fingers between her ass cheeks. He kissed her hard as he toyed with her tiny hole. She groaned against his mouth, and he could sense her pussy growing wetter against his palm. It would have been easier to just thrust into her there, but she didn’t like things easy. She liked things exciting.

When it came to sex, so did he.

“Look at me,” he commanded. When she did, he held her gaze and stroked his long, thick cock. “This is going in your ass, and it’s going to hurt, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Oh God.” She gave him the perfect combination of terror and
oh yum please yes put it in me
. He knew from their earlier encounter that she enjoyed a deep, thorough assfucking. Her passion inflamed his passion, her need inflamed his need, and her gaze revealed an adulation that filled him with carnal power.

She bit her lip as he worked a finger into her anal channel. She clenched around him, then whined as he added a second finger and started stretching her. There was something so deliciously primal about violating that tight, sensitive space. It was dirty and dangerous in a way most women didn’t like, but this one liked it.

“How does that feel?” he asked, sliding his fingers in and out of her, preparing her to take his girth. “You want more?”

“Yes, please.” She sighed, then remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this—the whole “painal” thing. She amended her answer to “Ow, you’re hurting me.”

“Just wait. It’s going to get worse before I’m done with you.”

He used his stern voice, the one he used when he worked as her bodyguard. This wasn’t work anymore. This was play, dangerous, daring play that might fuck up both of them, but he couldn’t summon the willpower to stop. He drew out his fingers and positioned the head of his cock against her ass.

“This whole thing’s going in your asshole. Every fucking inch.”

“No. Please!”

Ah, she was good at this. He pried her legs wider and leaned to kiss her, then hissed as she caught his lower lip between her teeth.

“No biting. I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

He pressed into her ass, breaching her tight ring with careful control, but still enough force to keep her in the game. She pushed at his chest and choked out lovely, distressed noises that made him swell harder as he tried to work his way inside her. Someday he’d shove her down on her stomach and fuck her ass doggy style, but right now he needed to see her face.

Someday, Ransom? You’re thinking about someday? A future?

“Yes. Yes!” Her passionate cries distracted him from that troubling thought. A groan of pleasure erupted from her throat and resonated through his reeling senses. He might have reminded her that painal was supposed to hurt, but who fucking cared at this point? It felt so goddamn good. Her ass clenched around his cock as he held her down and drove deep. She was his to capture, fuck, hurt.
Holy fuck.

He started to move in her, faster, harder, and was rewarded with more wails of pretended agony. She tested even his epic staying power. He closed his eyes and tried not to come, tried not to shoot inside her spasming ass before he could fully appreciate the thrill of being inside her.

She threw her arms to the sides as he bottomed out in her, over and over. The more she squirmed, the harder he held her legs so she couldn’t pull away.

“Does that feel bad, baby?”

“Yes. Ow.” She pouted theatrically. “It feels awful. It hurts.”

“You’re gonna take it. Do you hear me? You’re going to take my fat cock in your ass until you come.”

“I can’t come,” she whimpered. “You’re hurting me too much.”

“Then you’re going to get fucked and fucked until you’re raw, and I’m still going to force you to come.”

“Oh, please, don’t.”

Her protests weren’t real, but her building excitement was a hundred percent genuine. He wanted this to be everything she wanted and more.

“Come here, baby.” He held her closer as he lengthened his strokes. He pulled out slow, then drove in hard, then pulled out slow again as she spread her palms against his hips. After a few minutes of hard drilling, he stroked her clit, just a tease, a touch. She whimpered and arched against his hand.

“Someone’s wrought up,” he taunted. “Someone claims it hurts, but she’s all wet.”

“Please… Oh…”

He massaged her clit again, knowing just how to draw her pleasure to a peak. She was wild from their role play, reveling in his sensual force. Just before he thought she might come, he stopped. Her resulting anger was gorgeous. She tried to pull his hand back, and then gave up and touched her clit herself. He tsked and gripped her wrists, yanking them over her head.

“No touching unless I allow it, naughty girl. You leave your hands right here.”

That turned her on so much she was almost levitating. She stared up at him, impaled on his cock, desperate to bring herself off, but not allowed to do it. He held her thighs open and rode her, his thick shaft stretching her over and over. Shit, he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“You know why I’m hurting your asshole?” he asked through clenched teeth. “You know why you’re getting it so rough?”

“Why?” she panted.

“Because you’re a dirty girl. You’re naughty and you don’t behave.”

Which was the damn truth, above and beyond this abandoned tumble into depravity. He thumbed her clit again, and rolled his hips so she felt his entire girth with each thrust. Her mouth fell open as her hands clenched into fists above her head.

“I bet you don’t even want to come,” he said. “You just want me to keep hurting you.”

“No, I want to come!”

While his right hand worked her clit to a frenzy, he gave her another punishing kiss. They were on fire, just like the first time, only hotter. She shook under him and gasped against his lips, begging for completion.

“God… Please. Ransom… Oh my God…”

Ten seconds later she erupted, reaching for him against the edict to keep her hands over her head. He caught her in his arms so he could feel every shudder of her orgasm as he suffered through his. It was suffering, truly, because it was so intense and hot, and because this was so wrong. He shoved himself deep inside her, holding her against him. He never wanted to move.

“Jesus Christ. Holy shit.” Her peal of laughter rang out over his hard exhale. “You rule, Ransom. You’re so fucking good at making me come.”

All those words, all that excitement, when Ransom couldn’t summon anything but the need to take another breath. Somehow he had to cope with this. He had to cope with the fact that they connected this way in bed.

But it was more than that.

That’s what scared him.

He pulled away from her when he started to go soft, and even then he couldn’t find the words he needed. Instead he patted the side of her head and kissed her again in all the wonderful places. Eyes, nose, cheekbones, forehead, lips.
I’m falling in love with you. Why are you doing this to me?

For her part, she gazed up at him in pleased wonder. So much for resisting her. He was fucked.

Not Worth It

A
fter they showered,
they ate pizza and drank San Pellegrino on the same bed where Ransom had fucked her. Lola tried not to stare, but he was shirtless and hungry, and everything about him turned her on. He ate pizza like he fucked, all earthy and shit, with lots of gusto.

Jesus, Lola, you have to stay in control.

She knew she was acting like an infatuated kid, turning stupid over a much older man, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t control it. She couldn’t be the cool, mythical Lady Paradise around him. When she was with other men, she didn’t give a shit about them, so she always had the upper hand. With Ransom, she felt on the verge of falling apart.

“Want another piece?” He offered her the box.

“No thanks.”

“It’s good pizza.” He sank his teeth into another slice with a wicked grin that made her insides turn to mush. Since when was stuffing your face with pizza sexy? Ransom made it seem that way. She went for her guitar and brought it back to the bed, hoping it might provide some outlet for her roiling emotions. His grin widened as he watched her tune it, plucking at the strings.

“And now you’re going to sing. Could this night be any more perfect?”

His warm words made a blush spread over her cheeks. It
had
turned into a perfect night. Too perfect, which scared her. When would he withdraw from her again? Would she survive it? She gave an abrupt, dissonant strum and met his gaze.

“I’m going to sing about you,” she said.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Uh huh. So get ready. I’ve been writing this in my spare time.”

Her spare time: those few and precious moments not eaten up by her manager’s demands, her musical tinkering, public relations crap, the endless stream of demos cooling in her Dropbox, and the inordinate amount of time she spent obsessing over Ransom. She strummed again, a chord as present and powerful as her bodyguard-lover, and began to sing some lyrics she’d written over the previous few days.

“
It’s been so many years of blue sky rain/so many years of pink hair pain…
” He smiled at that, which gave her the courage to continue. When had she gotten so shy in front of him? She strummed another chord. “
So many years of losing myself in clouds/when the sun never came.
”

Pain
and
came
didn’t quite rhyme, but whatever. Sometimes beats didn’t match up exactly either. Imperfect art was still art. Messed up feelings were still feelings. He was the sun in her song, and he knew it. He was the sun in all her songs these days, which was fucked up, because she’d started out hating him so much.