Hot for His Hostage (10 page)

“Yes.” The acquiescence burst eagerly from her now. “
Dios,
yes, Sir. Please.
Please.
I need this.”

“Tell me you’re sure. I’m not a small man, baby. I’m going to stretch you.”

She twisted her wrists beneath his grip. Her blood was on fire. Her vagina strained
and tightened, forcing her to lift her hips. “I’m sure. I’m sure.”

“Again.” He pressed his lips into her hairline. “Say it again, dammit. I want you
to be sure. I’m going to fuck you hard, Zoe—and I’m not going to be gentle about it.”

“Do it.” The words were pleading rasps.
Dios,
she needed him. His smoldering, sinful smell. His looming, hard weight. His cock,
swollen and magnificent, promising to fill her body in ways she’d never imagined.
“Fill me, Shane. Fuck me. Take me. Dominate me. Please!”

Damn.

Damn.

Damn.

How the hell had he ever thought this woman would be a fun and forgettable fling?

Stupid question. Nonexistent answer.

Zoe’s plea, with its finishing scream that seized him from the balls up, confirmed
he didn’t even care.

He simply wanted her. And accepted, with grim resignation, that this might be the
only time he’d have her. Even if he wasn’t eyeballs-deep in this dangerous ruse with
Stock, what he’d ask of her was too much. He was already living on borrowed time,
considering all the occasions he’d been dropped into parts of the Middle East that
people didn’t want to know about. On one of those trips, he wasn’t going to make it
to ex-fil. They’d be carrying his lifeless ass onto the helo, instead.

What key you want that ‘Taps’ played in, soldier?
  

His depression could wait. The moroseness didn’t belong here, in the rare gift of
this night and the tight heaven of this woman’s body. But his desire for her extended
beyond that. Zoe was so unbridled in her passion, so eager with her kisses, so open
about her insecurities and what she perceived as her “failures”…and then so willing
to let him help set her straight about how wrong she was, if only a little…

It was official. She was his submissive dream come true. He had the hard-on, more
raging than any he’d had in a while, to confirm it. God help the woman.

“Spread wider for me, baby.”

Her eyes reopened as he said it, likely drawn by the lusty tension in his voice. Sure
enough, as their eyes met, he watched fear tighten her features. She attempted a ready
smile, which only drove in another knife of compunction. She was being so brave, refusing
to ring out no matter how much his cock strained her tender tissues. At the same time,
she drove him insane in all the most awesome ways. Damn, she was tight…and despite
her strain, getting wetter by the minute. Thank fuck for basic human physiology.

But all the lubricant in the world wasn’t going to make some aspects of this any easier.
He was big. She was small. Period.

Shit
.

As a precaution, he wound his hands tighter around her wrists. She noticed, of course.
“Shane?” Her query was sweet and tentative and sexy as fuck. “Is everything okay?”

Guilt pushed the repeat key whether he welcomed the shit or not.
Is everything okay? Yeah, just fine and dandy—except for the fact that our minds mesh
but our bodies may not.
Didn’t mean his dancer wouldn’t get satisfaction; he’d just pleasure her in different
ways—right before his ice-cold shower.  

“Listen to me.” He lined his stare up with hers again. The shadows of the room turned
her eyes into gold-kissed midnight. “Red still means stop, Zoe. Got it?”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“You may take that back in another minute.”

“I don’t. Want you. To stop.”

Hell. She flashed what had to be her sexiest glare of the night, eyes flashing and
teeth bared. Little wildcat…she aroused him well past his groin, not that his cock
refused its fair share. He rolled his hips, letting her feel the new blood surging
there. Zoe hissed and arched her back, pointing her breasts straight up at him.

He answered her with a ravenous growl. She drove him crazy—in all the best ways.

Would giving in to that insanity, just for a second or two, be so bad?

He didn’t wait for the answer. Her nipples were waiting, practically taunting him.
He pounced, biting into one and then the other. She let out two high keens, though
he chopped the second cry short with the mash of his lips atop hers.

In the midst of filling her mouth with his tongue, he took over her pussy with his
cock.

She screamed into his mouth. Jerked her body against his. And succeeded in seating
his dick deeper inside her.

He’d never felt anything more perfect.

“Shane.” She gave it in a wobbly whimper this time. Twisted her wrists inside his
hold.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “We’re there, tiny dancer. We’re there, okay?”

“It—it hurts.”

“I know. But in a sec—”

“It’s amazing.”

He stopped. Just for a moment. Then blinked in bafflement.

Hell, he was even indignant for a moment, thinking she might be dangling a kinky lie
just to please him, but the glow on her face was real. So were her gorgeous, erect
nipples…and the tension of her legs around his thighs, urging him to move again.

And the dreamy wonder in her voice as he renewed his deep thrusts. “I…had no idea.”

“About what?”

“That it could feel like this.” She sighed then cried out as he pushed in harder,
driving her body into the mattress. “That it could be this good.”

Shay groaned. Good? This was so far above the stratosphere from good, it was outer
space. He didn’t know if he’d ever felt anything so perfect. So tight. So right. “No
arguments from here, baby girl.”

“I can feel you…everywhere.”

He didn’t know how to interpret the wince she tagged on the end of it. “If it’s too
much—too painful—”

“It’s okay. I’ve been a dancer since I was eight. Pain and I have an interesting agreement.
It’s good to me if I let it be boss for a while.”

“Hallelujah.”

She started to giggle again, but he fucked the sound into another scream. Shay groaned
in return, savoring the feel of her silken sheath around his throbbing shaft. She
trembled, arched her neck, and groaned again, wordless entreaties for more. As he
pumped with more force, conflict assaulted. Ruefulness that he’d possibly found the
most perfect submissive in the world for him, and only had her for one night. Relief
for the exact same reason. If he had any more time with Zoe Chestain than these rare
hours, he’d be a man in big trouble.

“Harder, Shane. Deeper. Please!”

Big
trouble.

He pressed his forehead to hers. Reveled in the slick tango of their sweat as he drove
farther in. Zoe moaned and gasped, her hands curling into fists, her toes pressing
at his ass. She panted faster with every lunge, her nipples poking his chest, her
pussy quivering against his abdomen.

“Not yet.” Shane commanded it, slowing his pace in emphasis. “
Not yet,
baby girl.”

She shot up a wild glare. “Are you kidding? Shane—”

“
Sir
.”

“Sir—dammit—I—it’s so good. I can’t just—”

“You can.” He captured her lips in a salty kiss. “And you will.”

“But—”

“You’re a submissive, Zoe, despite how some ass-munch of a Dom tried to convince you
otherwise.” He leaned to show her the conviction in his gaze. “And you’re going to
prove it to both of us now. You’re not only going to hold back your orgasm for me,
but you’re going to earn it by pleading for it.”

She glowered again. “Yes, Sir.”

He pinched both her breasts. “You’re cute when you’re pissed.”

For a second, she only gave an aching moan. Could’ve had something to do with how
he rolled into her, doubling the friction to her pussy. “And you’re maddening when
you’re cocky.”

“And I like it when you say ‘cock. But it’d sound a lot better in the phrase, ‘Please,
Sir, make me come with your cock.’”

He punctuated with a hard thrust, conveying the tone was a jibe but the intent wasn’t.
As he’d hoped, Zoe’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“Ohhhh. Sir…please make me come with your cock.”

“Perfect. You’re so fucking perfect, Zoe.”

The moisture of her new tears didn’t come as a surprise. He hadn’t issued the words
as empty praise and knew she wouldn’t take them as such. Shit. If he ever got his
hands on the dickhead poser who’d messed up her mind like this, made her feel so far
from the stunning submissive she was…

“Thank you, Sir,” came her sweet whisper. “Will you give me more? Please? Until my
pussy comes around your cock, and makes you explode with me?”

“Damn.” He’d sure as hell cut the butterfly from her chrysalis, hadn’t he? The naughty
benefits were wonderful to reap. “That would be a gigantic affirmative, baby girl.”

He committed to the promise by releasing her wrists and sliding his hands to her ass
cheeks. With his fingers splayed across her flesh, he ground her pussy harder on his
cock, setting up a hard, primal rhythm for the demand of his body on hers.

“
Vaya,
” Zoe cried. “
Sí. Ayyy. Mas adentro. Mas duro. Cojame, señor. Cojame.
”

Shay groaned. Here was another reason their passion was best confined to one night.
Any more sessions full of that wicked Spanish sex talk and he’d be a deer in the headlights
for this woman. He let the gorgeous filth of her words shoot up his cock and flare
into his head, now buried so deep in the velvet of her womb.

“Again,” he ordered, working his fingers into the crevice of her ass, working her
deeper onto his shaft. “Beg me again with that perfect mouth of yours, Zoe. Fill my
cock with your dirty, beautiful words.”

“Yes, Sir,” she rasped. “Ohhhh, yes Sir. Take me hard. Fill me deep. Fuck me until
you let me—”

“Come.” Any consideration of drawing this into a hedonistic fantasy were decimated
by her untamed submission. Now, he only wanted to grant her every drop of pleasure
her wet, tight little body begged him for. He couldn’t bear to make her pussy wait
any longer. “Come for me, Zoe. Come around me.
Now
!”

Her body quivered and convulsed. Her head sank against the pillows. Her scream consumed
the air.

Her orgasm squeezed every inch of his cock. Flash-bombed his self-control into nonexistence.

He detonated, too.

And for the first time in his life, finally understood why some poets compared climaxing
to death.

Having faced the possibility of his own check-in to hell on several occasions, he’d
always tossed off those writers as French fried dumb shits. Those asshats had never
been in the middle of a gun battle against jihadist maniacs, with smoke thick as London
fog and brass raining the air. No way in hell could death and sex have a damn thing
to do with each other.

Until now.

The universe narrowed. His vision was a pinpoint of white heat and sheer ecstasy,
tunneling his mind yet blasting his senses. With logic and spirit fused, he floated
through one moment then slammed to earth in the next, aware of every breath that flowed
through his lungs, every beat that hammered his heart.

Yeah. He was dying. In all the best, French fried ways possible.

The most incredible part? He wasn’t doing it alone.

Zoe
. The muscled sculpture of her body. The olive silk of her skin. The soul-snatching
beauty of her sighs as tremor after tremor coursed through her, massaging every drop
of his climax out of his cock and into her welcoming heat. For one second, he even
imagined that the latex barrier between their bodies had dissolved and they were skin-to-skin,
connected even more deeply.

Slowly, she slid her legs from his hips. Even more slowly, Shay withdrew his hands
from her ass. As she sank back into the sheets, he straightened in order to stay inside
her for at least another minute.

One minute more. Please.

Fate actually listened this time. Sort of. While he was given the respite, it didn’t
relieve the wordless weight from the air between them. He watched Zoe swallow then
close her eyes before dipping his lips to the hollow at the base of her throat. He
moved up a hand to continue a soft trail between her breasts, kissing her there, too.

Her heart thudded loud enough for him to hear. A solemn knell…without poetry this
time.

He pressed his face into the creamy valley of her skin, soaking in the seconds they
had before the energy of their explosion faded. Zoe sifted her fingers through his
hair, the movements conveying her own awareness that the shadows were soon to come.
Wasn’t that the fucking rub? They’d likely ignited a radius of five miles with the
intensity of what they’d just shared, which made these minutes feel like a trip to
the caves of Afghanistan.

Wait. He’d been to those caverns. This was worse.

“Stay ere.” Even the ten seconds he took to rise and toss the condom were agony, though
they imparted an opportunity to dash to the bathroom, dampen a washcloth, and bring
it back with him. Zoe sighed as he gently toweled off the front of her body. Before
long, he wordlessly directed her to turn over. He couldn’t let the opportunity pass
to once more appreciate the masterpiece that was her ass.  

“Mmmmm.” She wiggled the two sweet globes as he stroked the cloth over them. “That
feels really good…Sir.”

He smiled and smacked her lightly. “Method to my madness. I didn’t get a chance to
properly appreciate
this
side. Though if you keep up that teasing, I’ll do more than appreciate.”

“Promise?”