Still a Thief Page 2

  When he straightened, the sight of her pert little ass in the air made his throat go dry. He pictured leather garters framing the soft white flesh, a lacy black garter belt holding the straps up…crisscrosses of pink and red across her milky white behind, exactly the width of his fingers.

  Oh, yeah. He gave her a sharp slap on one side, and she jumped. Her back started to lift, but he pushed her down with one hand. She gave in, but turned her head to look up at him. “Should I pretend to struggle?”

  He shrugged. “If I tell you, it isn’t as much fun.”

  She sighed and buried her face in her arms. “We don’t have much time. You know what I like. Just do it.”

  Ah, but he wanted to keep her guessing. He brought his hand down again, hard enough to sting his own palm, and she jumped and let out a tiny moan. Then he put one hand on her bare hip and stroked her soft skin in a small circle, winding his way down to dip between her legs, careful not to press too hard, keeping her on the teasing edge of frustrated desire. His cock felt hard enough to cut diamonds, but he’d drive her higher before he took her. After a few moments of gentle exploration he slid a fingertip back up the crack of her ass to toy with her asshole.

  She jerked and made a little noise deep in her throat ‑‑ pretending she didn’t like this? He knew better. He stroked over the puckered flesh again and again, teasing little touches, until she was rocking back against his hand. God, how he loved her ass. Especially when she was all submissive like this, offering herself up to his pleasure. If he had time he’d go for the Vaseline and give her a rousing good fuck in the ass. Hell, if he had time he’d take her back to bed and tie her to the headboard again.

  But not now, not when she felt pressed for time, not when she’d barely agreed to go out with him tonight. No, instead he’d remind her of all the reasons she should see him later. He bent over her, covering her, and whispered in her ear. “I wanted to do this when we met in your office yesterday. Pull your skirt up and bend you over that perfectly organized desk.”

  A shiver ran down her spine. He slid his hand lower and pressed a finger deep inside her, curling it against the walls of her vagina. She gasped and clenched down on him so tightly, his forehead broke out in sweat.

  He bit the back of her neck gently ‑‑ not hard enough to leave a mark. “I wanted to fuck you in the ass, too.”

  She arched her back. “Don’t, Jake.”

  A pretend objection. Hell, she was panting. He licked inside her ear, then whispered, “Maybe I’ll do it tonight. I’ll meet you at your office and fuck you in the ass, right there on your desk.”

  She gasped. “You can’t be serious.”

  Oh, he was serious all right ‑‑ but she didn’t have to know it yet. She sounded outraged, and he wasn’t about to get her distracted by anger. “Play along, Kate.”

  He felt her head move in a nod.

  He slid down until his knees hit the floor. With his mouth inches from her pussy, the pain barely registered. He blew between her legs, and she shivered. “I could look at your pussy for hours.” With just the tip of his tongue, he took a long taste, teasing the edges of her labia. Musky, warm, delicious Kate.

  “Mmm. I could eat you for hours, too.” He settled in, licking every ridge and fold, reaching inside her as far as his tongue could go, burying his face in her warm, giving flesh. The soft curls of her pussy hair tickled his chin, but nothing would have stopped him. All those nights in prison, he’d fantasized of eating a woman like this, and now he couldn’t get enough. His cock felt full to bursting, but he waited…just another taste…one more lick…one more flick against her clit. Kate pushed her hips back and forth, riding his face, moaning with each stroke of his tongue.

  He moved back to the cleft of her ass, giving her long, slow licks. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles were white. She whimpered when he probed her asshole with the tip of his tongue. So hot and tight…damn, he could come just from the thought of taking her in the ass again. He pressed a sucking kiss right on her hole.

  When he stood, she gave a little cry of disappointment.

  He chuckled ruthlessly. “See what happens when you tell me I only have five minutes?” He put one hand between her legs to keep her motor running, stroking her deep and slow, while he fumbled with his zipper and undid the snap on his jeans, awkwardly shoving his pants and briefs to his knees with his free hand. The small of her back glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and her hips were lifting with little panting breaths. She was so horny, he could fuck her without a rubber and she wouldn’t notice.

  Tempting, but no way would he risk getting her pregnant. He pulled a condom from his back pocket, tore the packet open with his teeth and rolled it onto his cock.

  He parted her labia with his fingers and pushed forward, burying himself in her with a deep thrust. For a minute he held still, savoring her hot depths. Not many women could take him to the hilt. Kate was a rare one.

  She squirmed, pushing her hips back against him. “Move.”

  He slapped one side of her ass, and she squeaked. “I give the orders when we’re fucking, woman.” He leaned over until his lips were against her ear and nipped the lobe firmly. “No topping from the bottom.”

  “Yes, Jake.” She barely managed a whisper.

  Someday she’d call him Master. But for now, submission was enough. “That’s better.”

  He straightened and gave her what she wanted ‑‑ what they both wanted ‑‑ rocking his hips in slow, long thrusts. The steady drag of her slick, wet heat on his cock made him lightheaded.

  He looked down at her in amazement. Her back was covered by unwrinkled, perfectly tailored wool, every hair was in place, but her skirt was rucked up to her waist, her ass bare ‑‑ and the sight of his cock moving between her thighs was incredible. He nearly came right then, watching her take him so deep…listening to the slick, slapping sounds of their merging flesh.

  If he only had five minutes, he was going to wring every drop of pleasure he could from the experience. As hot as her ass looked, he’d rather see her face taut with need, her mouth panting with every push of his cock. He pulled out and grabbed her hips, turning her over. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her gaze unfocused and hazy with need. Need for him.

  He tugged at the top button on her blouse, and she put a hand up to stop him. “What are you doing?”

  Without a word, he grabbed her wrist in one hand and pressed it to the table, holding it firm. She gave in, letting him undo her shirt with his free hand. He let go of her wrist to spread the silky fabric open. Her bra was beige, but that was the only practical thing about it. The lacy, low cups barely covered her nipples. A little pull and her full breasts spilled over the tops. She wriggled, and they bounced with her movement.

  He groaned and dropped his head, sucking one nipple between his teeth, worrying the point with his tongue. Her hand wrapped around the back of his head, holding him close…her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him off balance as she tried to rub against his dick. He’d have laughed if he wasn’t so horny.

  “Easy, baby.” He tugged her closer until her ass was at the edge of the table, positioned his cock, and thrust into her again. She cried out and jerked her hips. God, she knew how to get him hot. Her teeth were biting her lower lip hard enough to leave a bruise, and her hands clutched at his hips, pulling him forward as though she couldn’t get him deep enough to satisfy her. With every thrust her breasts jiggled, nipples brushing against the top of her impossibly sexy bra. He pinched one hard, thrusting nipple, and she thrashed her head back and forth, mussing the tablecloth. Wisps of silky blonde hair crossed her forehead as her bun loosened.

  What a goddess. Never, not in his wildest fantasies, had he imagined a woman this classy would let him fuck her. Would moan and reach desperate hands out to pull him closer. Would clutch his head tight to her chest as he gently bit the side of her breast.

  And he did it all without losing a beat.

  He’d come
in a second…but not before her, never before her. He straightened so he could reach down and tweak her nipples, pinching hard between his fingers. She cried out, but her hips kept moving. Yeah, his Kate loved some pain with her pleasure. He thrust harder, faster, butting against her cervix with each downstroke, until she closed her eyes and gave rhythmic little mewling cries, her face contorted with passion.

  Sweat dripped off his brow and landed on her stomach, but she didn’t seem to notice. It looked like she was straining, working to reach her climax. Not with him in charge. He twisted her nipple again, then grabbed her hips to pull her in tandem with his thrusts, pounding hard and fast.

  He slid one hand over her heaving belly, stroking through her pussy hair until his thumb found her clit. He strummed it hard, and she gave a strangled cry. Too much? No, her knees lifted, opening wide, spreading herself for him like nothing else mattered but getting fucked. Her boss could have walked in with the entire Board of Supervisors and she wouldn’t have cared.

  Oh, there was a thought. Fucking Kate in public…yeah, he’d like an audience. Putting his stamp on her, showing everyone that he was the one who got her hot.

  He kept thrusting deep and steady, kept his thumb moving, grinding his teeth to hold on to the shattered edge of control. Her head whipped from side to side, exposing the little bruises he’d bitten into her neck last night. A collar would look good next to those hickeys ‑‑ a studded black leather collar circling her slender, aristocratic neck. Ties binding her wrists overhead, stretching her arms until her milky white breasts jutted out…her legs held open on one of those torture chairs he’d seen in a cheesy porno movie. But this was Kate, not some drugged out anorexic pornstress. Kate’s lush breasts, bouncing above a black leather corset. Kate’s nipples with clamps on them.

  Kate’s nipples with exotic piercings through them.

  Shit, yes.

  Someday he’d do all of that to her and more. And he’d never let her dictate how long their fucking would take again.

  He scratched over her nipple with a fingernail. She screamed, wailing like a banshee, a cry of pure, aching passion. And then she came, gripping his cock with pulsing waves of contractions. She moaned and jerked, writhing on the table until her breasts came completely free of her bra. Her hands clutched his biceps with bruising force, and her hips jogged across the table with her shudders, moving her dangerously far from him. He held her waist down, thrusting over and over while her climax eased into short little tremors.

  Head thrown back, teeth gritted, he let her contractions milk him into a mind-searing orgasm. And still he fucked her. His cock was on autopilot, demanding every last thrust, keeping the rhythm going even as he shook with deep wrenching shudders. He didn’t stop until his cock softened inside her.

  In the sudden silence, his panting breath seemed abnormally loud. Blood thundered in his ears, slowly receding. His unsteady gaze focused on her face, but she was looking down at her chest, fumbling with her shirt buttons. She’d already tucked her breasts back into her bra.

  Her gaze caught his for an instant before she looked away again. Embarrassed? “I wish I had time for another shower. You made me sweaty.”

  And women criticized men for insensitive pillow talk. She could at least wait until he’d pulled out before starting to carp on him. A “thank you for the orgasm” would have been nice. “We can take one together later.”

  She pushed back on the table until his cock slid out of her, then scooted to the side and sat up, futzing with her blouse and jacket, smoothing down her skirt. The paper towel holder was off to one side of the table, and she tore off a few sections and dabbed surreptitiously between her thighs, tilting her wrist to glance at her watch. A small tsk was the only comment she made.

  He tossed the condom into the trashcan under the sink, then tucked his cock into his briefs and zipped his jeans. Not once did she look at him, not even when he held out a hand to take the wad of paper towels. He trashed it without a word.

  Her nylons and underpants were a twisted mess on the floor. When she reached for them, he stepped over and put his foot down on top of them.

  That got her attention. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Don’t wear them.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I can’t go to work with bare legs.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Will people be looking at your legs?”

  “They might. It’s very conservative at the D.A.’s office. I can’t go in looking like a tramp. Or even the least bit unprofessional.”

  From the controlled tone of her voice, they might have just had breakfast instead of a hot fuck on her kitchen table. He scooped up the silky clothes, untangled them, and handed her the nylons. “You can wear these. The panties are mine.” He shoved the scrap of silk into his front pocket.

  Now she seemed puzzled. She looked at the pantyhose in her hand, then slid off the table. “Fine, keep them. I’ll go get a clean pair.”

  “No.” He all but shouted the word. “You’re not going to wear panties today, Kate. Is that clear?”

  Her stubborn frown was all too familiar. “Look, Jake. The fact that I let you sleep with me doesn’t mean you have permission to treat me like a whore.”

  “I’m not treating you like a whore. I’m treating you like ‑‑” Like a submissive. Would it piss her off to hear it? What the hell, it was true. “I’m treating you like a submissive.”

  She seemed to freeze in shock. “I’m not…In bed, maybe, but not…” Her shoulders went back then, and she straightened. Even at her full height, she didn’t come up to his chin. “We play games in bed. Not in real life.”

  “There’s no difference.” And it’s not a game.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He took the panties out of his pocket and held them out to her. When her fingertips brushed the fabric, he tore them in half right in front of her.

  She gasped and put her fists on her hips. “How dare you?”

  Reaching out, he pulled her closer with one strong arm across her back. With his free hand, he rubbed the tattered remnants of her panties against her lips. She pulled back, but not hard. She could have gotten free if she wanted to ‑‑ and clearly she didn’t really want to.

  He stroked her cheek with the soft fabric. “Don’t make me tear up every pair in your bedroom.” He meant it, too…and almost hoped she’d challenge him to do it.

  “I can wear pantyhose, but not panties?” She sounded hesitant, her voice all but a whisper. Good.

  “For today.” Let her think he’d let her wear panties tomorrow. Maybe he would. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to exercise complete sexual control over her. In bed, and out.

  She bent and slid the hose on, carefully pulling them over her bare bottom. Under the translucent, tight nylons, every detail of her crotch showed, every pussy hair was outlined in loving glory. If he had time he could count them. Even though he’d just been drained, his cock twitched a little.

  With shaking fingers, she smoothed down her skirt and stepped into her shoes, resting one hand on the table for balance. He got her purse from the floor and handed it to her.

  She hiked the strap of the purse over her shoulder and took her briefcase in the crook of her arm. “Let’s go. I can’t afford to be this late.” Her tone reeked of I’m back in charge. Like a State trooper, she turned her back to him and marched toward the door.

  “Kate.”

  The hint of a threat in his voice was enough to stop her. This was progress; he didn’t even need to touch her to make her follow his commands.

  “Yes?” She spoke without turning.

  “Don’t put on underpants at all today. I mean it.”

  “Will you punish me?” The words were breathless, flirty, but he wasn’t in the mood for teasing. Not after he’d had to practically beg her to meet him later.

  “Yes. But if you disobey me, you won’t like the punishment.”

  The long pause told him that she’d been planning
to do exactly that. Without a word or a nod, she walked to the door.

  The gauntlet had been thrown.

  Chapter Two

  Kate took the turn onto the ramp a little too fast, nearly clipping the right-side barrier at the entrance to the parking garage. Damn Jake for making her late to work. Damn herself for letting him. When he gave her that caveman attitude, she melted into a puddle at his feet.

  She barreled down to the third level, where the newbie Assistant D.A.s like her had parking spots. A golden BMW came up out of nowhere, honking. Heart in her throat, she slammed on the brakes, gripping the steering wheel as though her hands could pull the front fender back from the brink.

  A squeal of tires, but no crunch of metal. Whew. She didn’t know the guy behind the wheel, but he gave a grudging shake of his head and waited for her to pass before moving on up the ramp. He had a cell phone earpiece and his lips were moving ‑‑ no doubt talking about the crazy woman who’d nearly ruined his morning ‑‑ but even though he was the one on the phone, she was the distracted one.

  Being late and flustered was no reason to get into an accident. She drove more cautiously down the winding ramp, but saw no one. The lot was practically full; easy to spot her space, with so few vacancies. She pulled in between her neighbors and turned off the engine with fingers that trembled slightly.

  She glanced at her watch. Eight thirty. Great, now she wouldn’t have much time to prep before her nine o’clock. When she twisted in the seat to grab her purse and briefcase, the wool of her skirt prickled through the thin nylons, scratching her bottom. Blood rushed to her privates at the slight discomfort. Jake had been right last night ‑‑ she was a slut for pain. After only one night, he knew far too much about her. Everything about the man was dangerous, and now he had a ton of ammunition to use against her.

  She slid out of the car, careful to keep the hem of her skirt down. Not much chance of anyone seeing her crotch, but why risk it? The D.A.’s office was a hornet’s nest, with everyone vying for political appointments. The last thing she needed was to be seen without underpants.