My heart races, but I can’t make myself say it.This truly ismysadist.
He’s back.
Damn, I’ve missed him.
“That’s what I fucking thought,girl.” His cock slams home inside me and in three thrusts I’m impossibly coming, moaning, my goddamned toes fuckingcurlingas he rides me like he stole me.
The hand stays in my hair and he tightens his grip as he finds his groove, a rhythm meant for his pleasure, not mine. This is an old chapter ofour story we haven’t revisited in quite a while, a dynamic we had before we added Kevin to the mix.
When Kev returned to his life, the sadist shifted to a more subdued, ritualized pattern. Still quite the sadist, but…predictable.
Mysadist had been wild and felonious and unpredictable and thegoodkind of scary.
Thiskind of scary.
He doesn’t bother trying to get me off again, not that hewas trying to finish me off in the first place. That was totally coincidental. He comes deep inside me with one last, haggard grunt and takes maybe two breaths before he’s pulled out and stalking toward the bathroom.
Leaving me lying there and trying to catch my breath with the delicious echoes of the pain in my ass, and in my scalp where he’d had a damned tight grip on me.
I hear the showerstart in the bathroom.
It takes me a minute, but I drag myself upright and follow him.
By the time I make it there, he’s standing under the spray, his forehead pressed against the wall, eyes closed.
None of this feels…right.
Not a damn bit of it.
My delicious fear has already fled, because I knowmysadist is gone already, andthisman is Christopher, Special Agent Bruunt.
The First Spouse.
A dad.
Not Priest, not even Sir.
I strip off the T-shirt and step in to join him. That’s when I see fresh scratches on his back that I didn’t put there, more on his ass, the kind of scratches the boy leaves on his Sir’s body when the sex between them is raw and powerful and downright scary, and so very breathtakingly beautiful to watch as a result.
The full-on first-round version of what Ijust got.
I make him turn to face me, and find a love bite on his left pec.
I slip my arms around him and kiss the spot, closing my eyes and willing my love and energy into Kevin through it, a briefly tangible connection between us.
Chris draws in a shaky breath before his arms close around me and he leans against the wall again, this time with me cradled against him.
“Please bring him backhere,” I say. “Go get him before it gets much later. Right now. No one will see him.”
“He won’t come, honey. He needs some time.”
I picture him in Chris’ arms, his face a rictus of pleasure as Chris fucks him. Biting down to stay quiet because the agents next door would absolutely hear them. Maybe even biting down because Chris had cupped the back of his head and pressed Kev’s mouth there forjust that reason.
“Why won’t he let me take care of him?” I ask.
“Because he doesn’t know hownotto take care ofyou, sweetheart. He’s my good boy and when he shifted into that dynamic with you, it permanently shifted something insidehim. He has to let go for a while and feel his grief. He knows if he comes back it’s too easy for him to flip into self-medicating with work and with you. That’snot what he needs right now.”
“I hate that he’s alone.”
