Servicing the Target Read online

  The second she pulled against his hold, he released her. And looked up so hopefully that she gave him her other breast.

  “Mmm. You’re good at that, Benjamin.” Each suck of his mouth zinged straight to her clit. She found his flat male nipples, circled them with a fingertip until they jutted out, then pinched them cruelly enough his body went rigid beneath her.

  Her body trembled in response. She needed…needed to move, to take him. Maintaining her control was more difficult than anything she’d ever felt before.

  His tanned face was darkened with lust when she sat back to study him. She’d never met anyone more…unreservedly masculine, all steely planes and craggy features and solidly packed muscles. She ran a finger down his large nose, feeling the bump where it’d been broken in the past.

  “Please. Mistress. I’d like to taste more.” His gaze slid down her torso. “More.”

  So well said. She did appreciate a man who could be frank without being coarse. And he’d sent need churning in her veins with just a look and a few words.

  “In a bit.” He deserved a little attention for himself…and, God, she wanted to explore all those muscles for herself.

  After releasing his hair, she slowly kissed his scarred cheek, moving down. His jaw and neck held the light tang of sweat. A night’s worth of beard stubble rasped over her tongue, making her anticipate feeling that scratch elsewhere. Over his wide chest, his springy hair was the same tawny color as his hair. The way his thick pectorals were rock hard made her stomach flutter in a primal reaction.

  As she tongued and nipped his flat nipples, she twisted and gripped his cock, enjoying the jerk and surge.

  The man openly liked everything she did, and his enjoyment added to her restless hunger.

  When her breasts dragged across his chest, his hips rose under her, adding another layer of anticipation.

  She used her legs to push his apart and settled between his knees. The coarse hair of his thighs rubbed against her hips as if to emphasize the differences between them, to make her feel more silkily female.

  A man’s smoothly waxed skin was nice. Somehow, she’d forgotten the textural pleasures of a more natural look.

  When she bit his lean belly, he inhaled sharply and his erection pulsed. She soothed the spot with her tongue, licked the soft crease at the top of his thigh, and felt him quiver with his restraint.

  Everything she did to him made him hotter—and did the same to her, like a tide coming in, rising higher with every set of waves. And yet, controlling him, the way he followed her directions, was a roaring storm of pleasure putting the whitecaps on the breakers, lashing her with need.

  The head of his cock was velvet, the shaft was satin, and the tortuous veins bulged with blood. He had a lovely musky scent—totally intoxicating.

  As she moved down and nipped his thigh, she could feel his struggle to not release. In fact, if she administered sharp pain right now, he’d come whether he wanted to or not. So tempting. She really, really fancied seeing him come again.

  But she shouldn’t short herself this time. She had needs…and he’d expressed a desire to taste.

  Wasn’t he lucky that she felt like granting his wish?

  “All right, Benjamin. Let’s see how well you use that mouth and tongue.”

  His brown eyes lit with anticipation, turning golden in the bright sunlight from the window. “Thank you, Jesus.”

  “I prefer Goddess,” she said primly. Her whole body was humming with its own eagerness as she moved off him and onto her back.

  His laugh was a guttural rumble, and he was over her before she could blink. So gorgeously virile, he simmered with heat.

  As his powerful hands closed on her thighs, he paused. “I thought Dommes always sat on their guys’ faces.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sitting takes effort; I’ve been up all night.” She waved her fingers. “You work. I rest.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” His grip on her legs clamped down as if he feared she’d escape.

  Would this giant of a man require instruction in the fine art of—?

  His tongue touched her clit ever so delicately.

  No instruction needed.

  He maneuvered his way lower between her legs, opened her carefully, and ran his tongue over her clit, around, under, over. Teasing. Gradually increasing the force. Reading her body as sweetly as any slave she’d ever had.

  Her pussy throbbed, demanding attention, sending needy demands. There were occasionally times she liked being teased; this wasn’t one of them. She fisted his hair. “Go for it, Benjamin. Mouth only—but get me off in the next ten minutes or you get sent home.”

  Excellent threat. His hands clenched hard enough to bruise, and then he went to work, teasing her clit, around the hood, the sides, the top.

  Amazing. Her breathing slipped out of her control at the full, hot sensation as her pussy engorged with blood, as pressure coiled in her depths.

  He took her clit in his mouth, engulfing it in heat and wet, and her need grew. Her fingers in his hair pulled him forcefully against her—and he laughed.

  She tugged again, more painfully.

  His only reaction was to fit his lips around her more tightly—and then he sucked. Relentless, pulsing sucks. Stopped to flicker his tongue over her before sucking again.

  Her muscles went taut under his hand as the coil in her core tightened, as her hips tried to lift, and then he flattened his tongue, rubbing determinedly right on the top.

  The wildfire battering her senses roared out of control, whipped by the winds of need. Her hips bucked against his hold as the pressure grew, grew, grew…and detonated. Searing sensation scorched across her nerves, flaming outward in pulsing streams of pleasure.

  Past the bruising hammering of her heart, she could feel his hands gliding up and down her thighs. Eventually, she opened her eyes, saw his grin, and…the softness in his eyes. Her pulse skipped. She could barely control her voice—and all she could think about was the overwhelming desire to have him inside her. “Benjamin. You’re amazing.”

  He didn’t answer for a second, just stared at her. “Did you know you’re abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous when you come?”

  Her heart warmed. Oh yes, she really, really wanted him. “Muss me up, then, Benjamin.”

  The flare of heat in his gaze could have seared the planet.

  She yanked his hair, the implacable demand clawing at her required action. “Move, subbie. Now.”

  “Fuck, yes, Ma’am.” He was over her in an instant and thrust in, powerful and fast.

  Holy fucking Jes—Goddess. The top of Ben’s head almost shot off. Anne was hot and slick—and tight enough to make him almost come on entry. With a rigid grip on his control, he managed to stop before full penetration to let her adjust to his size.

  Some women couldn’t ever take him to the hilt.

  But Anne? Face still flushed from her climax, she was smiling with pleasure. At his lack of movement, she opened her eyes and the heat in them burned his skin. “Guard dog, did you stop for a reason? Now, now, now.”

  She sure didn’t need to tell him twice.

  As he pressed in, his hands dug into her hips as he struggled for control. Jesus, she felt good. With a groan, he tried to slow, fought to keep from hurting her. He felt the resistance as her cunt stretched around him, and then he was… “Fuck!”

  He pulled out, appalled at himself. “Need protection, Ma’am.”

  Her eyes widened, and her expression held the same shock as his.

  “I fucked up.” Tensely, he waited for her to rake him over the coals. Deservedly, too. It was a man’s job to protect the woman. Always.

  “Well, I haven’t forgotten that essential since I was in college.” She met his eyes. “I’m sorry—and I can see you are as well. We both messed up.” She rubbed his shoulder. “I’m on birth control pills.”

  Per Shadowlands requirements, she’d also be tested routinely for STDs. He offered his own reassurance. “I get tested rig
ht along with the members. I’m clean.”

  “Good enough.” With a wave of her hand, she indicated the left. “Bedside drawer.”

  That was it? No yelling? Both of them were slaphappy with lack of sleep, but he should be thumped for screwing up. Only…he had to appreciate her calmness and how she’d shouldered part of the blame herself. She was as classy down deep as she was on the surface.

  Reaching over, he yanked the bedside table drawer out, finding condoms as well as toys that—if he hadn’t thought she’d hurt him—he’d have explored further. Instead, he grabbed a packet, ripped it open, and covered himself. “Let’s try this again.”

  He stroked her hips with his hand, ran a finger through her folds…still drenched for him and damn he liked that bare look. Parting her gently, he established his landing zone—and took her with one aggressive assault. Sheathed or not, his cock was in heaven.

  She inhaled fast, and he could feel her cunt around him, throbbing, gripping him in a mercilessly slick fist.

  He’d wanted her for so long—he wasn’t going to last long. Grinding his teeth, he paused. Should he be doing something—anything else?

  Her eyes opened. One dimple showed. “Mmm, lovely.” Her words were so throaty she could make a man come with her voice alone. “Did you stop for a reason?”

  Damn, she was something. “Um. Aside from hammering you into the bed, can I do anything else?”

  Amusement danced in her eyes. “No, Benjamin. That will be sufficient.” She’d sound elegant even in the middle of a firefight.

  And he had a go order. Oh, yeah. He pulled back, pressed in, feeling the nothing-equals-this slide of his cock inside a tight cunt. His next thrust was harder, his next one harder still.

  Her eyes closed. Her lips curved, making her cheekbones sharper. She was obviously enjoying his size—and wasn’t that a hell of a turn-on?

  “Okay, Mistress, I got you,” he muttered. With deep, driving thrusts, he took her, filled her, and joined them together. And she gave back, running her hands over his shoulders, curling a leg behind his ass and lifting herself to him.

  He took her soft lips, tilted his pelvis enough to graze her clit, and felt her fingers clutch his arms and her hips push up to meet him. Her face flushed a deeper red.

  And then she came, the beauty of it such that he lost himself and realized far too late that his cock had a mind of its own. The buffeting spasms around his shaft sent him spiraling out of control, and then the pile driver of his own climax slammed into him, pulsing in her welcoming heat with searing bolts of pleasure.

  Bending his neck, he kissed her shoulder and reveled in the sensations.

  “Well.” A while later, she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks pink, her skin slightly damp. She wasn’t the cool Mistress at the moment. “That was an excellent way to celebrate a new birth.” Her voice was as deep as Lauren Bacall’s throaty contralto. “Thank you, Ben.”

  She was damned welcome. And she’d called him Ben. He liked the sound of it—just as much as he enjoyed when she drew all three syllables out.

  “I’m available to celebrate new births any time you want. Or for birthdays too. You got a birthday this week, right?”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  Women sure did hate their birthdays, didn’t they?

  “I do.”

  “You look as if a birthday’s equivalent to a murder trial. You’re still a baby, darlin’.”

  Her glare was gorgeous. “The last subbie who gave me grief cleaned my toilet with a toothbrush.”

  “Did that in basic,” Ben commented.

  “And did you also hold an enema in…with the toilet seat chained down until after the room passed inspection.” She gave him a slight smile. “It’s amazing how much faster a room gets scrubbed with a little incentive.”

  “Jesus fuck, you got a mean side, woman.”

  She laughed. “So be grateful you’re not mine.”

  He’d be hers; damned if he wouldn’t. She had no clue how determined a Ranger could be to complete a mission successfully. “Sorry, Anne, but truth is truth. You’re only going to be thirty-five.”

  “Thirty-five,” she muttered in disgust. She scooped her hair back off her face.

  He ran his fingers through it. Soft and silky, with almost a sandalwood fragrance. A few glints of red and lighter brown showed in the sun-kissed brunette strands. And he could see some gray in front of her ears. Bet that pissed her off. “Does getting older bother you?”

  “You know, I hadn’t thought it would, but it’s not as much my age, but…” She pursed her lips. “I love what I do, love where I live. But, now my mind is asking what comes next.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I don’t want there to be a next. I want to be happy with where I’m at.” She scowled. “I don’t like things changing. Ever.”

  His laugh died. Because she was serious. “I’ll try to remember that.” As he nuzzled her temple, he tasted the slight trace of salt from her damp skin. Her hair brushed over his cheek like a fragrant breeze.

  Lifting up, he looked down at her. Even as his cock softened within her, he was ready to start over.

  But he needed more. Would she ask him to spend the night? Defenses were lowered during sleep and subtle links were created. He wanted those ties…with her.

  He leaned down to take her lips again.

  Ben could kiss…really, really kiss. Anne let him, feeling the low hum of her satiated body, the almost shocking pleasure of being pressed into the mattress by his huge frame. Why was that so sexy?

  He teased her lips, kissed her cheek and jaw, and the rough scrape of his beard against her skin tantalized her senses.

  She set her hand behind his head, holding him as she savored the way he still filled her deep inside. “More,” she said.

  With a low growl, he angled his mouth over hers, taking her deeper. Yummier.

  When he lifted his head, her arms were around his neck with her forearms resting on his thick shoulder muscles. The man was seriously built, and his body radiated a furnace-like heat.

  She kissed his corded neck, tasting the slight salty tang, before nipping the long muscle angling from his chest to his jaw.

  Should she make him stay for a long nap and then another wonderful interlude? Reward him with supper? He’d relish her cooking—and feeding him up would be a delight.

  She’d like to spend some more time with him. During the interminable hours of waiting, she’d found that—with encouragement—he not only talked, but also had an intriguingly wry sense of humor.

  “Ben,” she started.

  And then he looked down at her and…her soft mood stumbled to a halt, tripped over the curb, and crashed into the pavement.

  Because his gaze held more than the lazy aftermath of sex, more than the usual awe and reverence from her slaves. He looked at her as if he wanted more from her. As if he “liked” her and wanted a, heaven help her, relationship.

  No. No, no, no.

  As her smile slipped, she slapped it back on, making his eyes narrow as he registered the difference he couldn’t understand.

  “Well, that was definitely pleasant,” she said. “But, I have work to do tonight and I need to catch some sleep before that.”

  He angled his head, his demeanor firming. His eyes grew intent. “I make a big, but huggable teddy bear.”

  She pressed a hand on his shoulder, telling him silently to remove himself. “That’s a nice offer, Benjamin, but…” Hurting someone…hurt. And so did the guilt that swamped her now. She should never have invited him in.

  He shifted his weight and pulled out slowly. The loss created an emptiness that extended further than just her core. As he swung his legs over, he helped her up so they sat side-by-side.

  She frowned, realizing he’d sat beside her, not at her feet.

  Without permission, he curled his fingers around her hand. “What’s wrong?”

&nbs
p; “I’m sorry. I intended this as a simple way to pass time, nothing more.” She squeezed his hand with her free one and tugged free. “I think you might have more kink than either of us suspected, but, Ben, you’re not a slave.”

  His gaze stayed on her face. “And?”

  “And for anything other than a…well, a non-involved one-time-only, I confine myself to experienced slaves who know what it’s all about.”

  “Warning understood. What if I want another…non-involved…time?”

  She rose, instinctively needing to be higher than him, to influence him to listen. He needed to hear her now. She set her hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. When she cupped his jaw, the rigidity of his muscles confirmed her worries. She should be whipped for forgetting how easily newbies could think the bond created during a D/s scene meant…more.

  She knew better. Early in her Domme days, she’d made the mistake of thinking a submissive was equivalent to a slave. But although both types might give up control, a slave wanted to surrender…everything. As a Mistress, she wanted it all.

  Being unable to meet her needs had hurt those submissives—and hurting them had damaged her as well. She wouldn’t do that again.

  “I’m sorry, Ben, but another time wouldn’t be wise.” Feeling his flinch, she had to force herself to stay the course. She pulled him to his feet. “There’s a bathroom across the hall.”

  “Got it.” His eyes showed his unhappiness as he grabbed his jeans.

  Silently, Anne rose and dressed. How could she have been so foolish? She’d wounded this amazing man in a way she’d never intended.

  He was gone within ten minutes. She gave him a “nice” kiss at the front door, one that permitted her lips but held none of “her,” and she could see he knew the difference.

  Didn’t like the difference.

  She didn’t like the difference either. She headed back up the stairs, feeling weariness tugging at her as if she were still wearing the heavy weapons belt and body armor. In trying not to wound him…she’d still hurt him. She felt as if she’d kicked a puppy.