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He grunted a chuckle in her ear. “Then you should safeword.”

His next thrust was wickeder, and her toes curled in dismay.

“It feels awful,” she whispered miserably against the bed. “I hate it.”

For a moment he stopped, his dick lodged somewhere in the back of her throat, she was sure.

“And yet still no safeword.” He thrust into her for real, two, three, four times. No more polite, experimental thrusts. The viciousness stole her breath.

He paused again, waiting, and when her body demanded more, she wriggled back against him, forcing him deeper.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Fuck, he was full of himself. He had every reason to be, the bastard.

Hard hands dug into her hips, drawing her up higher. He fucked her harder, pummeling into her, grunting and swearing like an animal. Her mind floated, loving his rough intensity in a way she never would have suspected. The dominance of his movements and his grip on her had her entire body buzzing in response to him. She felt stoned.

His fist knotted painfully in her hair, and with a series of savage thrusts he came, shuddering over her, the groan of pleasure that escaped him was also half pained.

“Fuck, woman.” He pulled out of her and lowered her back to the bed, collapsing next to her and sucking lungfuls of air. “You make me so fucking crazy.” He rolled her onto her side, and her knees automatically drew up to her belly. She was slick with sweat and dazed, and so horny she thought she might die.

He left her to clean himself up, then came back and wrapped his body around hers.

“You’re really not going to let me come?” she asked, no longer caring if he punished her again.

“Coming is for good girls, Mila, and you’ve been very bad.”

She groaned. Her ass ached, her legs felt like rubber, and her clit and her pussy were begging for anything they could get. “I hate you. Uncuff me, you bastard. I’ll do it myself.”

“You don’t hate me,” he murmured in her ear. He cupped one of her breasts and rubbed his thumb over it until she squealed in frustration and ground her ass against his groin. “Look, you’re already begging me for more.”

“No, no more.” She whimpered. “Everything aches.”

“And here I thought you wanted to earn an orgasm.”

Oh . . . damn. “Please, yes. I’ll do anything.”

“Good.” A moment later the cuffs opened, freeing her. He unclipped the leash, but threaded it through the headboard and attached it to her collar again before settling back behind her.

“What do I need to do?” She peeked over her shoulder at him. He yawned, looking sated and lazy, and far too sexy.

“Stop lying to me. Stop stalking me.” He chuckled. “You want to come—you want my cock in your pretty little pussy instead of your ass—I’d be only happy to accommodate you. But that’s my price.”

He wanted the truth? Since he had her cuffs, obviously he knew exactly what she was and what she was doing where he was concerned.

Or what she had been doing.

At this point she wasn’t a cop, she was just a woman with a crush on a guy.

But then, what kind of cop was she if she was willing to ignore criminal activity because she had feelings for the lawbreaker? Sure, some of the guys in her precinct overlooked things like their girlfriend’s pot smoking or their brother stealing cable, but this was a whole new level. She was fucking a suspect—well, letting him fuck her, really. Then they’d moved from that to actual dating. And it wasn’t as if he just had a bunch of unpaid parking tickets. He was a suspect in a car theft ring!

She stared out the window at the black on gray skyline, ignoring the flashing lights of casinos in the distance. Atlas’s grip on her had gone from possessive to affectionate, and the feel of his lips on the back of her neck made her want to purr.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready,” he murmured to her.

Ready? Ready for what? To give up her badge so she could come clean and they could be together? What kind of cop was she at this point? But then, if she wasn’t a cop anymore, what the hell else was she going to do with her life? Being on the force was all she’d ever planned to do, and she couldn’t let a suspect she’d known for a few weeks make her question every life decision she’d ever made. And yet, here she was in bed with him. Again.

/> His strong, slow heartbeat thudded against her back, lulling her. Even though she was sexually frustrated, her body was tired. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t gotten off tonight. She relaxed against him, trying to sort through what to do.


Tags: Sparrow Beckett Masters of Adrenaline Erotic