The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon) (13 page)

“Are you?”

***

With a shake of her head, Jezebel turned and walked to the door. She didn’t like where the conversation was heading. He had no right to pry into her personal life outside of her pregnancy. She’d divulged what she came to, and now she was leaving. She turned the doorknob and a feeling of déjà-vu settled over her. Without looking up, she knew his hand kept the door pressed in.

She laughed in disbelief before spinning to confront him. He wore a little smirk on his lips. “Do you think this is funny?” At his lifted brow, she forced a smile, and spoke, her tone saccharine sweet. “You and I are not friends. As a matter-of-fact, we are nothing. Thank you for saving my life but it was the least you could do since the only reason I’m living in fear for said life is because you’re in the Korean mafia and your enemies want me dead.” He only continued to stare at her, his face relaxed, the infuriating smirk still in place. “When this threat is…handled, I expect to return to my old life without you.” His brow lifted further, but she continued on, “After the baby is born and you prove that your life is safe for a child, we can work out some type of visitation sched―”

Her words died in his mouth.

The taste of Ramsey and mint dominated her senses and despite her anger and distrust, Jezebel felt an answering call in her own body. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, her nipples pebbled under the bra, making for an uncomfortable press, her heart began a fierce, erratic pounding. It was her hormones. That was it. She was pregnant, and her hormones were in a space between erratic and insane. That could be the only reason her body reacted like it was starved for him.

Jezebel turned away, gasping for breath and trying to ignore the feel of his lips against her cheek. It wasn’t her. She didn’t want him. How could she after all of the heartache he’d caused, all of the things she’d given up because of him? “What are you doing?”

“What I wanted to do when I walked into my bedroom and found you in my bed.” His lips moved down to her neck, and she gasped as his moustache grazed her sensitive skin. She’d never thought a moustache could give such pleasure. His lips closed over her neck and he sucked hard. A sound that was a cross between a groan, a whimper, and “no” passed her lips. Ramsey’s hands were suddenly on her ass, cupping her through her pants, pulling her against the familiar hardness at the juncture of his thighs. Jezebel bit her lip to keep from crying out. It had been months since anyone touched her like this, like he owned her body. “What you want me to do right now.”

When his hands left her buttocks, Jezebel whimpered but his fingers were suddenly undoing the button of her pants, pulling down the zip. She could,
should
, protest, at least say something, but Jezebel couldn’t. She didn’t have the words. Instead, she allowed him to brace her against the door, slide his fingers into her panties, and touch her.

As his finger swiped her pert bud, Jezebel moaned. Two rapid flicks and she whimpered. His finger slid further back, and it was his turn to groan. “You’re already wet for me, Jezebel.” His tongue laved her ear as one thick finger slid into her. As she opened around him Jezebel exhaled deep and leaned her head against the door, extending her neck. He kissed her there. “That’s it, just let yourself feel…feel me…” Another finger joined the first and she winced as she was stretched further. Ramsey kissed her again, and this time, she kissed him back, eagerly participating in the erotic dance of lips and tongue as she rode his fingers to her release.

“I think you missed me,” he murmured against her lips.

“I didn’t.” That was all she managed to get out before his teeth closed over her bottom lip and pulled. His fingers stopped moving, holding still within her body. He released her lip and brushed his lips against her ear.

“Then why are you so wet?” Ramsey’s thumb settled on her clit and pressed, dragging a low moan from her.

She shook her head and said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m pregnant. It’s the…hormones.”

“Oh?” He circled her nub slowly. “Then I could be anyone?”

Jezebel swallowed and nodded.

“You’d let
anyone
finger you like this?” he continued, sounding more amused than anything else.  

She glared at him. “Stop talking and do it!”

He blinked, seemingly taken aback. His thumb kept up its slow, torturous movement. “Do what, Jezebel?”

Ramsey Stone was neither slow nor stupid so she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to say it, to acknowledge what he was doing to her body. “Do
it
!”

His lips brushed a trail from her cheek to ear. “You want me to finger you until you come? Is that it? Or should I remove my fingers and let you go back to your room, wet and unsatisfied?”

When she took long seconds to answer, he began withdrawing his hand. Jezebel clutched his wrist. He lifted a brow and waited.

“I want you to finger me,” she whispered, hating her body for putting her in this predicament.

“Until you come?” he probed.

“Until I come,” she bit out.

He kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her lips. “Good girl.”

Already pushed to the limit by admitting her need, Jezebel was about to tell him where to shove it, not in her, when his fingers began to move, working fast, thrusting quick, curling forward, pressing, thrusting quick…she came.

She awoke sprawled in the middle of Ramsey’s massive bed. Her pants and panties were gone, her thighs spread wide, and he was staring down at her exposed sex with a look of such lust, such abject, unadulterated need, she almost came again.

“Ramsey, wait!” Her senses were returning. With the prior orgasm, her brain started working again. She tried to close her legs, but his finger waylaid her with a soft, butterfly-like touch right over her clit. “I―that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why not?” He barely spared her a glance and sounded less than concerned.

“I don’t know,” she muttered. “Maybe because I don’t like you, or it could be because you’re a jerk or possibly because you’re the head of the Korean mafia.”

His finger traced her slit before he lifted her legs up and away from her body, spreading her wider.

“Did you hear me―
oh
!” He swiped again, and again. Before she knew it, his other hand was moving upward, to slowly caress her belly, as he continued to tease her. Jezebel tried to reason with her emotions. She wasn’t just allowing this because it was Ramsey. He could be anyone; she was just hormonal. Even her doctors had explained that her libido might increase or decrease, that it was normal. She was using him to fulfill a basic need and that was it.

When she felt warm air brush her sex, she was at first confused. Confusion departed, along with common sense and rationalization, when Ramsey’s lips closed over her.

***

She tasted even sweeter than he remembered.

Balancing on one elbow, Ramsey stroked her with his tongue, lapping at her dew like a starved man. She was so wet, so ready for him. Of their own volition, her hips worked against his face, wanting more. Jezebel could pretend she hated him, but her body would never lie to him. Her body was made for his. He groaned as another rush of liquid seeped into his mouth, licking up to her clit before sucking on her hardened bud.

Jezebel moaned low and ran her fingers through his hair. He sucked soft and tender before switching to hard sucks, rapid flicks of his tongue and when she was on the edge, her body tensing up for that final release, he moved away.

“W-what are you doing?” Her voice was shaky and she looked at him from beneath droopy lids.

Jezebel could tempt a saint, but pregnant Jezebel made Ramsey itch with the need to possess her, make her scream his name, tell him she wanted him and only him, loved him and only him. Moving over her, he lifted her to a sitting position. Before she could ask questions or protest, he peeled the shirt from her body.

In addition to her belly, which he found fascinating, extended as it was with a dark brown line running down the middle, her breasts were larger. The bra was plain, a black piece made for practicality rather than seduction, but with her breasts held up so invitingly, it was all he could do not to bury his face between them and inhale. Later, he compromised, making quick work of the bra. Cupping her orbs, he tested their new weight, circling her nipples with his thumbs before rolling them between his fingers.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Jezebel managed on a sigh.

It did.

Leaning forward, Ramsey kissed her. Unlike his previous kisses, this one was soft and gentle and not meant to arouse. It just was. When he pulled away, her eyes were glazed, her breathing shallow. He pressed her back against the bed, and covered her, careful to brace himself on his elbows before he crushed her.

He shifted his hips and groaned when his cock brushed her slippery heat. Jezebel gasped, her head falling back before her eyes snapped to his, alert. “Condom.”

Ramsey frowned. Why? He hadn’t been with anyone…but she’d been with Brandon.

“Did you use them with Brandon?” he growled. He was jealous. He had no right to be and he didn’t care.

“Always,” she hissed.

He was off of her in seconds, moving to the end table beside his bed, and searching for the box he kept there. Ramsey hoped they weren’t expired because if they were, Jezebel would have to come to terms with the lack of condom use. After applying the lubricated rubber, Ramsey moved back to the bed. Jezebel was on her side, watching him. He slid onto the bed and rolled onto her, pressing his lips to hers to prevent her from saying things that would upset him. When her arms slid around his neck, and she began to strain against him, he reached between them and worked his cock against her.

“Ohh!” Her moans urged him on. He pressed against her entrance slowly, biting his lip as he slid into the tightest heat he’d ever known. Lost in her body, Ramsey kept going, stroking her tongue as she accepted him. When she whimpered, he paused.

“Okay?” he breathed. He didn’t want to hurt her, especially in her pregnant state.

Two heartbeats later, she nodded and murmured, “Yes. Just go slow.”

Heeding her advice, he retreated and pressed back into her, dragging a heated cry from her lips. She’d already taken half of him so he pressed on further, eager to have her take all of him as he knew she could.

She clutched his arm and he stopped. “Too much.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, kissing her lips in apology. He was hurting her. Ramsey retreated, pulling almost completely from her slick channel, before pressing forward again. He moved slowly, careful to make sure he didn’t press too far against her, before Jezebel began to work her hips against him. Her hands slid down his back, to his buttocks and she moaned, “Faster.”

“Sure?”

She nodded. He obliged, feeling her open further for him. She was amazing. Her breasts bounced as he fucked her, and Ramsey was torn between continuing his thrusts and sucking the dark areolas.

“Ramsey, I’m―” She broke off to moan. “Ooh! Oh! I’m…”

“Coming?” He moved faster, harder. Leaning close to her ear, he growled, “Come, Jezebel. Come for me like you always do.”

Her body jerked as her sex clutched him repeatedly. “Ram-Ramsey!”

***

She awoke cocooned in warmth.

With a smile, Jezebel snuggled further into the blanket, a blanket that was skin smooth with hard muscles. Her smile faded as an all too familiar ache penetrated her senses. Memories rushed back and she barely resisted the urge to groan.
Shit!
She’d slept with him, both literally and figuratively. Here she was, the scorned ex-lover who’d found out her well-to-do boyfriend was a dangerous gangster, back in his bed. It hadn’t even taken that much persuading. One kiss and her body, pregnant or not, was ready to forget all of the bad things he’d done, all of the bad things he’d continue to do. She was disappointed with herself.

Jezebel tried to move, to slide out from under his arm and the blanket, but his grip only tightened. Ramsey inhaled deep, which caused her to freeze. He ended up pulling her closer, her back pressed to his chest as his hand slid down her front. He cupped her belly and muttered something unintelligible before his breathing evened once more.

With a scowl, she spied the digital clock on his end table. The bright green letters told her it was just after midnight. She waited a few minutes, thinking back on what they’d done, how good it had felt, and why it could
never
happen again, before she attempted to move his arm again. This time, there was no resistance. Trying her best not to make a sound, she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and began feeling her way around it until a thought occurred to her and made her freeze: how was she going to find her clothes in the dark? The answer was simple: she couldn’t. After a few internal groans and headshakes, she made a decision. So what if she turned on the light and he woke up? They’d had sex. They were adults. She was going back to her room.

Jezebel had made her way over to the end table when a tortured cry made her stop. When moments later, there was nothing but silence, she wondered if she’d imagined it. It was quiet enough in the room to hear a pin drop so it was possible her mind was playing tricks. It came again, and this time, words accompanied it.