Fast Justice Page 14
Telling him without words what she wanted, she set his hand on her hair and tugged the denim and cotton down, freeing the thick length of his erection to her ravenous gaze.
Malcolm hissed in a breath and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging at her scalp, the slight burn increasing the tension humming between them. Breaking his gaze at last, she curled her fingers around the wide base and parted her lips as she bent to him, determined to mark him, drive him out of his mind with pleasure.
Slowly, slowly she closed her lips around the swollen crown of his cock. His fist clenched in her hair, the muscles in his thighs and belly locking tight. A heady wave of feminine power and arousal sizzled under her skin.
He let out a low, strangled groan, the feel of her hot mouth engulfing him making that powerful body shudder. The scent of his soap, the salty taste of his arousal filled her senses.
God, she loved this. Loved going down on him, making him insane.
His thigh tensed beneath her left palm as she closed her eyes and slid her mouth down on him, taking as much of him as she could, her tongue stroking, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. A ragged sound of pleasure tore from his throat.
He tightened his hold on her hair, pulling, forcing her to slide up his shaft before locking her head in place and surging his hips forward, driving back into her willing mouth. Rowan whimpered and shifted restlessly around the ache of arousal between her thighs, reaching around to grab his tight ass with her free hand, sucking him eagerly, unable to get enough.
“Oh yeah, sweetness, more.” The deep, dark timbre of his voice was like a caress to her senses, the approval and enjoyment creating a melting sensation inside her. But sweetness. That was something only he had ever called her, and it made her believe she might be breaking through the barrier around his heart.
Sliding back up his length, she opened her eyes to watch his reaction as she tightened her mouth and twirled her tongue around the sensitive crest of his head. Bracing his free arm against the wall, Malcolm propped his forehead on his clenched fist and took what she so willingly offered, sliding in and out of her mouth. Low, almost inaudible groans filled her ears, mixing with the thud of her heart.
He couldn’t stop this now, he was too far-gone. She wanted him riding the edge of his control, ready to explode.
Fighting for control, he squeezed his fist in her hair, slowly withdrew from her mouth. She released his shaft to grab his ass with both hands and tried to lean forward to take him back in, but he wouldn’t let her, instead dragging her up and wedging her against the wall. He was so damn hard, his entire body strung taut, and she wanted to push him over the brink.
But Malcolm fused their mouths together before she could utter a single protest, claiming her mouth as she wanted him to claim her body. Needed him to.
The buttons on her blouse popped free when he tugged the two halves apart, and he broke the kiss long enough to drink in the sight of her breasts encased in ivory satin and lace, her hard nipples pressing against the fabric. With a hungry sound he hauled her higher up the wall, lifting her off her feet to bury his face between her breasts.
She gasped and arched her back, pushing into his face, his searching mouth, the faint stubble on his cheeks and jaw abrading her pleasantly. Impatient, he yanked the cups of the bra down, revealing her tight pink nipples that made him groan.
He flicked his tongue over one, teasing it while she moaned and twisted in his grip. Malcolm held her in place while her fingers bit into his shoulders, his scalp. Holding on for dear life while the world spun around her. Finally he darted his tongue over one sensitive peak, rolling around that sensitive flesh before at last closing his lips around it.
She made a mewling sound and panted, straining in his arms as he suckled. All too soon he switched to the other, using his weight to hold her to the wall, seeming to revel in her every little cry, each desperate gasp, while he trailed his right hand down her ribs to the bare skin of her inner thigh, exposed by the hem of her skirt he’d hiked up.
Rowan bit her lip and closed her eyes, dying a little as she waited for the touch she needed more than the air to breathe.
Firm, deft fingers slid over the damp lace covering her core, tugged the center aside to slide beneath to the wet, soft folds awaiting him. “God, you’re soaking wet,” he breathed, pressing his scalding hot cock to her bare thigh at the evidence of her arousal.
Rowan whimpered in response, unable to speak, fighting to roll her hips against his hand with the limited space he’d given her, needing more than he was delivering. She wanted him with every fiber in her being. Wanted to know she wasn’t alone in her feelings for him.
Then he pulled his hand free.
No!
He snaked a steely arm around her hips, smothered her babbled protests with another hot, searing kiss as he shoved her skirt all the way up to her waist. Tongue tangled with hers, he reached between them to grab the side of her panties and yanked, tearing the flimsy fabric.
She shuddered and moaned, shifting her legs to wind them tighter around his hips, opening herself to him completely as she ripped her mouth free. “Please, I need—”
“Shh.” With one hand he dove into his pocket for his wallet, managed to drag out the condom before it fell to the floor.
He ripped it open with his teeth, let her take it from him and reach between them to smooth it down his hot length. Gritting his jaw as she gave him a slow, firm stroke with her fist, his eyes went heavy-lidded, that luscious mouth mere inches from her own.
Ready to beg for what she wanted, Rowan held on tight and wiggled her hips, rubbing the open folds of her sex along his taut abdomen. He made a rough sound and held her tighter against the wall, then levered her up enough to nestle the length of his cock in her tender folds. Rowan caught her breath at the heat of him, licked her lips and stared down into his eyes, her body tensed. Waiting.
Now. Please now…
Malcolm held the rest of his body absolutely still as he eased the weight of his torso off her slightly, allowing gravity to do the work. Mesmerized, Rowan held his gaze while the hot, thick head of his cock eased into her. She bit back a groan, her eyes widening a little at the breadth of him.
A flare of alarm flashed through her as she eased down farther, her body opening, stretching to the slow, heavy pressure. She grabbed hold of his shoulders, her body automatically tensing as the pressure turned into a burning. A soft, plaintive sound came out of her and she pushed up on his shoulders with her hands, trying to escape.
His arm tightened around her hips, a steely band that allowed no quarter. “No,” he ground out, his voice ragged, features tense. “Take it.”
Rowan froze at the low command, the erotic edge to it. Her heart thundered beneath her ribs. He didn’t just want her body. He wanted her surrender.
And she wanted to give him both, she realized with startled insight.
Gazing down into his eyes, she drew a deep breath, then deliberately relaxed. Surrendering to him. Allowing her body to open for him, for her weight to sink down on him.
This slow, intimate penetration was so much more than sex. Twice as hot, so fucking good she could barely breathe. He watched her the whole time, seeming just as transfixed as he filled her, inch by aching inch. Pushing through her body’s lingering resistance. Branding and claiming her as his own.
When he was buried inside her to the hilt, claiming total possession of her, Rowan sucked in a breath and shuddered. Her inner muscles fluttered around him, fighting to adjust to the thick intrusion, the burn fading slightly but the unsatisfied ache more intense than ever.
Unable to articulate what she was feeling, afraid for him to see her stripped so bare, she dropped her head onto his shoulder and turned her face into his neck as she clung for dear life.
Chapter Fifteen
Mal was dying.
At least, that’s what it felt like to finally be enveloped in the tight, slick warmth of Rowan’s body. He’d wanted this for so damn long, could bare
ly stand the burn at the feel of her rippling around him.
He was too damn close already, had somehow managed to hold off while she’d sucked him like he was her favorite treat. Another time—if there was another time—he’d let her finish him off with her mouth. Right now, he wanted to pin her beneath him, stare down into her face as he took her, claimed her as no man ever had or ever would again.
Her core clenched around him as she shifted in his arms, sending pleasure rocketing up his spine. She drew in an unsteady breath, her fingers flexing on his back.
A wave of tender possessiveness flooded him as she clung to him, her face hidden in his neck, tiny little quivers running through her. Something caught in his chest.
You’re mine, sweetness.
The domineering, possessive thought was clear in his head, and irrefutable. She could fight the idea of them together all she wanted, but once he was through claiming her tonight, she was his. And his alone.
Her whole body was tense, her breathing shallow and rapid. He’d caught the flare of pain in her eyes as she’d started to slide down on him, some primal part of him getting off on the act of surrender she’d shown him. But as hot as this was, he wasn’t taking her against the fucking wall this first time.
Wrapping his arms around her, he gathered her close and turned them, striding for his room. With every step down the hall his cock shifted inside her, the friction making sweat break out along his spine. Rowan made a soft, helpless sound and squirmed in his hold, unable to do anything but go along for the ride.
His room was almost dark with the blinds pulled down, so he left the door open, providing just enough daylight spilling in from the window at the end of the hall for him to see her face as he lay her down on the sheets, still buried inside her. Then he stretched out on top of her, gently pulled her head from his shoulder and smoothed the hair back from her forehead.
Her eyes were clear now, no longer heavy-lidded with arousal and hunger, while he was ready to come out of his skin from the way she squeezed and flexed around him. That wouldn’t do at all.
With single-minded intent he set about rebuilding her need, rocking slowly inside her while he sucked at her lips and toyed with her nipples. She met him stroke for stroke, her eagerness easing the knot in his chest. When she moaned and flexed her body into him a few moments later, fighting to get closer, he slid a hand between them to find her clit with his thumb, rubbing the side of it gently.
She wriggled under him, angling her hips, then let out a gasp and grabbed the back of his neck when he added a little more pressure. “Oh, yeah, there,” she breathed, rocking against his thumb.
He was rock hard inside her, tingles of pleasure intensifying at the base of his spine. Mal kept her pinned beneath him, allowing her only a limited range of motion with her hips while he maintained the slow, deep rhythm.
Jesus, the way she moved, the sounds she made were about to make him come unglued. Being inside her was even better than he’d imagined, and he didn’t see how he was going to keep his distance from her now. He’d wanted to play it cool, stay remote. She’d just smashed through his barriers with her surrender.
He fought the climb to release, catalogued every hitch in her breathing, every tiny cry in response to his touch, memorizing what she liked best. Soon she was panting, her thighs wrapping tighter around his hips, her hands clutching at his back.
All mine. You’re all mine.
The thought almost sent him over the edge. Clamping his jaw tight, Mal shoved the pleasure back through sheer force of will and drove into her harder, angling his hips to hit her inner sweet spot. His gaze remained riveted on her face, drinking in every last detail of her response.
Four more strokes and her eyes squeezed shut, an expression of unspeakable ecstasy filling her face as she neared the edge. “Malcolm…”
Oh, fuck, the sound of his name in that pleasure-drenched voice. “God, you feel so damn good.”
“I’m so close…” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. Seconds later she bucked and started coming, her slick core clenching around his cock, head thrown back, that lush mouth parted on a wild, keening cry of release.
God. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life than Rowan coming undone beneath him. Once would never be enough. He was addicted now, would always want more.
He continued to ride her through it, drawing out her pleasure as long as he could, slowing only when she sagged back against the sheets, her grip relaxing on his hips and shoulders, her body going limp. Mal’s heart hammered against his ribs, his breathing ragged, pleasure searing every nerve ending, the need to come so intense it hurt.
But he waited for her eyes to open. For that post-orgasmic haze to fade from those blue depths until she focused on him.
Only then did he slide both hands into her hair and surge deep, a hard, hungry rhythm while the sensation grew and he savored every slick glide of his cock in her sweet heat.
Rowan shifted her legs higher to wind around his waist and clamped her inner walls down on him, her fingers caressing his cheek. The combined gentle touch and steady eye contact was so intimate, so intense.
And he was lost. Lost to everything but her and the pleasure she gave.
Burying his face in the curve of her neck, he let go, his whole body shuddering as the orgasm hit, pulse after pulse of ecstasy ripping through him. Gasping for air, his muscles like soft wax left in the sun, he sank into the cradle of her body with a groan and lay in her arms, destroyed.
He’d never felt like this before. Never felt so connected to a woman. Never needed anyone the way he needed her.
Through the fog of oblivion, a flicker of dread ignited in his chest. He’d just let his guard down for her, in an even bigger way than the last time. Now what? If she decided she wanted to move on, pretend that this wasn’t everything, what the hell was he going to do?
Rowan’s soft, sleepy sound jerked him out of his thoughts. Realizing he must be crushing her, he reluctantly eased off and out of her warmth. Quickly dealing with the condom, he returned to the bed and stretched out alongside her.
She was on her back, her face turned toward him, eyes open. Watching him. There wasn’t enough light for him to read her expression.
In that instant, cold, brutal reality hit him.
He’d just laid himself physically and emotionally bare to the woman he’d wanted forever, yet he had no idea where he stood with her. It was disorienting as hell and he didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. They would iron out where they stood tomorrow. He’d rather focus on the here and now, hold onto this moment for as long as he could. In case it didn’t last.
Determined to enjoy the closeness between them, he cradled the side of her face in his hand, swept his thumb across her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were soft, inviting, parting for the tender glide of his tongue.
And when he rolled her onto her side and tucked her into the curve of his body, she snuggled up with a contented sigh while he pulled the covers over them. In the dimness he kissed the top of her shoulder, breathing in her clean, feminine scent. “Can you sleep now?” he murmured.
“Not sure,” she mumbled drowsily. “Maybe if you hold me like this the whole time.”
His heart lurched and he tightened his arms around her. “I will.” I’ll hold onto you forever if you let me.
Chapter Sixteen
“Rowan Stewart. Where is she?” Manny stalked across the carpeted floor of his home office, his agitation so strong he worried he might explode if he didn’t keep moving. How the hell hard was it to find such a high profile lawyer?
“No leads yet.”
No leads. No answers. No fucking information whatsoever for the past forty-eight hours.
From what he understood, the female lawyer was the one in closest contact with Oceane and Anya. Of anyone, she would know where they were. “She couldn’t just have up and disappeared into thin air,” he growled.
“Oceane and Anya both did,” Montoya p
ointed out.
“No, they didn’t. And we’re only having trouble finding them because the DEA or FBI is hiding them.” It infuriated him. None of his contacts had come back with a location yet.
“So, you talked to El Escorpion?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said to take care of it,” he snapped, annoyed. What did Montoya think the man would say?
After Manny had told El Escorpion about the situation with Oceane and Anya, the conversation had been brief. That weird, digitally altered voice that was supposed to help keep El Escorpion’s identity a secret from even the top cartel members had instructed him in clipped Spanish that he had best deal with the situation poste haste, or prepare to be dealt with in turn.
Manny had no desire to die. He was doing everything he could to mitigate the damage done and recover his daughter and mistress.
“He didn’t say anything about Ruiz?” Montoya asked.
“Yeah, he’s going to help us shut the last of Ruiz’s network down.” So some good had come from his call.
“That’s good. Means the boss still thinks you’re valuable and wants to keep you around.”
Manny grunted. He was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. El Escorpion was only going to keep Manny around so long as it suited his and the cartel’s purposes. To make sure that happened, Manny needed to get this shit cleaned up immediately. For that, he needed a lead on the female lawyer, who would hopefully give him one on his daughter and mistress.
“Nothing more from the tracking device?” The damn thing had cost him a fortune when he’d paid for it a couple years ago. Maybe it wasn’t functioning properly anymore. The technology was outdated. Had the Americans found it and disabled it?
“No. It was a long shot that I found it last time. And after last night the lawyers’ office is locked down tight. There’s a security perimeter up, and nobody’s getting in or out without extra screening. I’ve got eyes on the place but no one’s seen the female lawyer or her boss since last night. They’ve been moved into a secure location by now. They’ll have their own security details.”