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Authors: Anna Alexander

BOOK: HeroRising
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God bless the woman he was intending to meet up with. The
beast was suiting up for one intense fuck.

“Excuse me. Can I help you?”

Years of training kept him from screaming like a frightened
schoolgirl. At least on the outside. Inside he jumped and shrieked like a
four-year-old spotting a spider.

He turned toward the voice and felt his eyes bulge out of
their sockets. “Dr. Jovanovich?”

What. The. Fuck?

The only times he crossed paths with Dr. Jasmine Jovanovich
was in the emergency room at the city hospital when he had to interview a
suspect or victim for one of his cases. Never on any of those occasions did he
suspect that underneath the blue scrubs, white coat and ponytail lurked a sex
goddess.

Although her stature was on the short side, her legs looked
a mile long and shimmered in the soft lighting as if burnished with some kind
of sparkles. A black corset cinched in her waist, with a matching leather skirt
stretching across her full hips to create the perfect hourglass shape. He had
no idea her dark hair was so long as it hung loose past her shoulders and
framed her pretty face. Sheer black netting hugged her breasts, highlighting
the dark-pink nipples that beaded in the cool air.

Fuckin’ hell. No matter how hard he tried, granted which
wasn’t very much, he could not take his eyes off those pretty nipples. It was
as if they had tractor beams zeroed in on his retinas. He grew lightheaded as
the blood from his big head raced to his little one that swelled with each
passing second.

Finally, his brain couldn’t take it anymore and before he
realized, he muttered, “Holy shit.”

The good doctor jumped at the expletive and crossed her arms
over those fantastic breasts. “Captain. Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. My God, woman.” He
scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. He really shouldn’t be staring so
hard but…damn. “Making house calls?”

She shifted in her strappy high heels and shot a furtive
glance around the hall. When she turned back in his direction her dark eyes
blazed as she leaned forward to growl, “What are you doing here?”

Whoa, look at the little spitfire. “I’m working a case.”

Oh fuck. The Hood.

He edged back to the door and peeked inside the room to find
it empty.

“Damn.” He slapped his palm against the wall. Now what?

The click of heels on the hardwood drew his attention back
to the doc who was inching her way back down the hall.

“Wait up, Doc.” Maybe all was not lost. “You haven’t told me
what you’re doing here.”

She froze. The straightness of her posture he knew was not
caused by the tightness of the corset. After several heartbeats she turned his
way and sighed. Her breasts shimmied oh so delicately with the movement. As if
sensing his stare, she crossed her arms again. “Stop that.”

“Why? You didn’t wear that outfit to not be stared out.
Seriously, Doc, I never realized how hot you are. I like this look.” A lot.

“Look, how about we forget this little encounter occurred.
Okay?”

“Hmmm.” He scratched at his cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe if…”

Even the flare of her nostrils was sexy. “What do you want?”
she asked through clenched teeth.

Oh, what didn’t he want? Was the skin of her inner thighs as
soft as it looked?

Focus, man.

Right. “A guy came down this way a few minutes ago. Huge.
Black jean jacket over a hoodie. Sound familiar?”

She shrugged. “There are lots of guys around here. I can’t
keep track of them all.”

“This one you’d remember. About the same size as Lucian
Kilsgaard. Do you know who Lucian is?”

“Yes.”

And… “So do you recognize whom I’m talking about?”

“Not sure.”

Ooo, she was a cagey one. Unfortunately for the doc, he was
not above using any means necessary to get what he wanted. With a quick flip of
his wrist, he took her picture with his cellphone. The bright flash momentarily
blinded them both.

“God, you’re an asshole.” She blinked hard but didn’t move
her arms.

“How’s the Wi-Fi reception in here?” He held up the phone.

Her fingers curled into her biceps. “I may know who you are
speaking of.”

“What’s his name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I can’t tell you. Name. Or I press Send.”

“Grrr.” She stamped her foot and daggered him with her
glare. “Bale.”

“Friend of yours?”

“No. I stay out of his way and he usually stays out of
mine.”

His brow climbed at that. That giant obeyed this tiny woman?
“Is he here a lot?”

“He comes and goes.”

“Is he close with the Kilsgaards?”

“I think so.”

“How?”

“I think they’re all from the same town in Sweden.”

Yeah, he was beginning to believe that whole Sweden story
was a cover up.

“Is he a patron?” She shrugged. “Does he work here?” Another
shrug. He bit back a curse and closed his eyes. “Let’s stop playing twenty
questions, Doc, and just tell me what you know about him.”

“As I said, I don’t know much. We don’t converse.” A sultry
smile curled her lips and a teasing light flashed in her eyes. “However, I do
believe his cock is ginormous, based on the wood I saw him sporting last
night.”

At her use of the word
cock
his own jumped and pulsed
painfully behind his fly. Lordy, how he wished he could reach down and relieve
the pressure. Then her words sank in. She was at the club the night before and
knew the size of his dick? “Are you fucking him?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. He’s hot but not submissive enough
for my tastes. Look, all I know is he’s close to the Kilsgaards, comes and goes
as he pleases and you don’t piss him off. That’s all.”

Not submissive enough? What the hell did that mean?

As his brain ruminated over that statement, he pulled up her
photo on his phone and made a production of hitting the Delete button as he
mentally kissed the image goodbye.

“Thanks for the info, Doc.” He smiled. “For the record, I
wouldn’t have sent the photo. No one would have believed me anyway. Not that
you aren’t sexy,” he hastily added as her eyes widened, “because you are. Holy
hell are you sexy. But you don’t seem to be the kinky type. You’re
so…efficient.”

She snorted and lowered her arms. With slow, slinky steps,
she walked toward him, not stopping until the hard tips of her breasts were
pressed against his chest and his aching erection was cushioned in the softness
of her belly.

Her eyelids lowered to half-mast and her lips pursed into a
hot little pout. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll deny it until
I’m blue in the face, then take my whip to your bare ass. Do you understand?”

He swallowed hard. She had to be bluffing. Wasn’t she?
“Sure.”

“Marco.” The use of his first name made his lungs catch as
did the swivel of her hips against cock. “Do you understand?”

He nodded then gasped as she dug her fingertips into his
side. “Yes.”

“Good boy.” She stepped away and walked backward, keeping
their gazes locked.

She reached for the doorknob of a closed door a few feet
away. For the second time that night, Marco felt as if he’d taken a baseball
bat to the chest as she revealed a man kneeling in the middle of the room. He
wore not a stitch of clothing, his hands resting palm up on his thighs.

“Hello, Army,” the doctor greeted.

His hard cock bounced in reaction to her voice but he kept
his gaze directed at the floor in front of his knees. “Good evening, Mistress.”

Her smoky gaze nailed Marco as if she had reached out and
grabbed him by the shaft. “Good night, Captain.”

The door shut between them with a soft click.

His hands shook as he dragged them through his hair then
pulled at his tight collar.

Holy fuck. She was a Dominatrix. Mousey little Dr.
Jovanovich wore leather, snapped whips and tortured naked men in a sex club.

Sweat broke out across his forehead as he stared at the
solid door. Curiosity possessed him, drawing him the scant feet forward until
his cheek pressed against the cool wood. There was a murmur of voices, one
light and seductive, the other deep and anxious. Then came the smack of a solid
object hitting flesh followed by a throaty moan. Then another. And another.

Marco jumped back as if the door had burst into flames. He
wiped at his brow and raced down the hall, feeling like the biggest pervert on
the planet.

A name. He now had a name. Exactly what he came for. But
catching The Hood wasn’t even on his radar at the moment.

Amaryllis’ words from earlier spun around him in an intricate
spider’s web, growing thick and tight, binding him into place.

He got what he wanted, but now he had a need.

How long could he hold out until he begged to have that need
satisfied?

Chapter Nine

 

For the umpteenth time that day Ari wondered what in the
hell she was thinking as Bale stood behind her and brushed soft kisses down her
neck. The swirl of his tongue against her pulse sent an arc of fire over her
skin. At the same time she shivered at the scrape of his callus-roughened fingers
parting the back of her dress.

What was she doing becoming intimate with a man who was
still practically a stranger? From what she’d seen so far, Bale
maybe-kinda-sort of had a job doing Lord only knew what, and he had very little
to his name but for his motorcycle and a few items of clothing.

When Anthony, the scumbag, had courted her, she refused his
advances for weeks, never truly believing that the smart, well-to-do, big-city
lawyer was interested in the small-town girl who slung whisky and mugs of beer
for a living. Little by little Anthony had made her believe she was worthy of
his affections, capable of aspiring for better than her upbringing. The man had
played on her weaknesses.

Maybe that had been her problem—she had trusted a man who
was both a lawyer and a politician. All she had wanted was to be in a
relationship with a man with a respectable job. Had that been too much to ask?

And Bale was nowhere near respectable. At least not in the
traditional sense. Oh, people respected his strength and ability to kick major
ass, but he wasn’t the type of man you could bring home to the folks and say,
“Here’s my man, and he’s all that and a bag of chips.”

Of course, her father had disappeared before she was born
and her mother’s romantic history consisted of men who were either married,
addicts, cheated on her or all of the above. Huh, perhaps respectability was
overrated.

Still, common sense demanded she take things slow. So why
was she doing a cannonball into the deep end of madness?

“You are so beautiful, Ari,” Bale whispered in her ear and
nipped at the lobe. “I want to spend days learning all of the ways to make you
come apart in my arms.”

There it was. That right there was why she was allowing him
to strip her naked, inside and out.

The gentleness of his large hands as he cupped her breasts,
the light in his eyes as he looked upon her as if she were a treasure he
coveted for himself, yet awed that he possessed her. For the first time in her
life she understood what it felt like to be cherished. To have her wants and
desires attended to by someone who cared, just as she wished to do for Bale.

She smiled as she recalled the expression on his face when
she opened the door earlier. In his arms he juggled a variety of sex toys and
lotions, clearly eager to try them out, but at the same time his concern that
he was pushing too far made him look like a little boy begging to play with his
new toys. And a very naughty little boy at that.

When she had enthusiastically agreed, his delighted smile
had made her heart flip and she knew then she was putty in his hands.

Like now, with his fingers massaging her breasts, making
them ache for a rougher touch. She ground her backside against his
denim-encased erection and lifted her arms, wrapping them up and around his
neck. Her fingers grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged. She
loved the way his hands trembled as he glided them over her body.

“Your hands feel so good on me. More. I want more.”

The hitch in his breath as she pulled his hair and talked
dirty ratcheted up her arousal until she was giddy with power. For a man who
used so few words, he did enjoy hearing her constant banter.

He chuckled, his hot breath ghosting over her skin. “You
shall have it.”

The room spun as he turned her in his arms and cupped her
backside, pulling her tight against his pelvis. His kiss was hard and hungry.
Just how she liked it.

She reached under his shirt, luxuriating in the bunching of
his muscles and the heat he generated. With Bale in her bed, she’d never have
to worry about another cold night again.

“What wicked plans do you have for me, big man?” she asked
against his lips as she raked her nails across his abdomen.

His slight frown and hard swallow instantly intrigued her.

“Tell me, Bale.” She reached up and smoothed away the
creases on his brow with her thumb. “The most I can do is say no.”

“I—” He swallowed again. “I want to restrain you.”

And… That was all? From the line of tension that
straightened his shoulders she expected to hear a far more extreme request.
“You want to tie me up? Okay. That’s a little kinky, but not too out there. Why
didn’t you just ask me?”

“To give control to another requires a great deal of trust.
I am not sure if I’ve earned yours yet,” he said solemnly.

Wow. She rocked back on her heels. “Thank you for thinking
of my feelings. I’m sorry to say that I’m not used to men asking me my
opinion.”

“Those men were beasts who did not deserve you.”

The conviction in his statement made her smile and she
granted him a quick kiss. “I like the idea of being at your mercy. Why don’t we
start small? How about you can bind my hands, but don’t tie me to anything I
can’t run away from.”

“I can do that.” Anticipation darkened his eyes to a sparkly
obsidian and a smile flirted on his lips.

“But I want you naked first.”

The excitement dimmed. “I don’t know why you insist on my
nakedness.”

“I suspect it’s the same reason you stripped me down the
moment you walked through the door. The way your body moves is highly
arousing.”

To prove her point, she stood on tiptoe to pull his shirt up
and over his head then licked a path from his collarbone down the center of his
chest to the waistband of his jeans with only slight detours to scrape her
teeth across his nipples. “Admit it, you like my hands on your bare skin.”

“You have to ask?” His erection eagerly sprang into her
waiting hand as she released the zipper of his jeans.

With her left hand she stroked him from base to tip in a
swirling motion that made his knees shake with each downstroke while she worked
to pull his pants the rest of the way off his sturdy legs.

Once he was bare to her liking, she peppered his hairy
thighs with kisses and dug her fingers into the firm muscles of his backside.
Mercy be, the man had a butt Michelangelo’s David would envy.

Between licks along the underside of his strong cock she
asked, “Do you still want to tie me up?”

His head tipped back on a groan as his fingers tunneled into
her hair. With a sharp tug, she was on her feet. “Yes.”

The game was on.

Perspiration dotted his forehead and slickened his bangs so
they framed his eyes as they narrowed with a predatory gleam that warned her he
would not stop until he conquered all he believed was his.

“Give me your hands.” Hunger deepened his voice to a rumble
that sent flashes of heat exploding in all her erogenous zones.

Without another word spoken between them, he used a black
satin ribbon to bind her wrists together. He lifted her then set her on the
middle of her bed, urging her to place her arms above her head before he
stepped back and gazed at her with admiration shining brilliantly in his eyes.

He set one knee upon the bed by her side then slowly swung
his other leg up and over her body, as if he were an experienced cowboy
settling into the saddle for a good hard ride. The touch of his possessive gaze
and the authoritative lines carved around his firmly set lips made all her
senses stand at attention like fans at a rock concert climbing over each other
with hands outstretched just for the chance to brush against their hero.

Holy shit. She wasn’t going to survive the night.

No matter how hard she tried to hold still, her hips
twitched and rolled beneath him and her torso undulated, desperate for any
contact.

Bale drew a deep breath and a smugness lifted the corner of
his mouth into a slanted grin. God, could he smell the cream leaking out of her
pussy and soaking the sheets beneath her?

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re ready to come.”

She tried to laugh, but the sound came out more like a
squeak. “I told you, you’re a very sexy man.”

He laid his hot hand against her sternum and she swore her
heart leapt into his palm. For several long seconds he didn’t move, only
watched her with that intense stare as she fought the urge to scream.

Touch me, damn it!

A strangled cry broke free as tears of frustration welled in
her eyes. Only then did he take pity on her and fully cupped both breasts,
bending down to scrape the fine stubble of his beard over the straining tips as
he laughed with evil intent.

“You suck,” she gasped as she writhed.

“As you wish.” He drew a hard nipple deep into his mouth.

Whoa. She hissed and arched her back for more of the
delicious contact.

“Oh yes. Yes.” Her whimpers turned into keening cries as he
bit and kneaded her achy mounds. Around her nipple his smile widened as he
watched her turn into a babbling, lusty heap.

“I love how you give your pleasure to me with such abandon.”
He slid his thigh between hers, prying her legs apart to make room for his
torso. “Show me how wet you are.”

A bitch in heat displayed more decorum than she did as she
eagerly pulled her knees up and out. Did she care if she appeared as easy as a
wanton slut? Hell no. Her pussy was dying of hunger and needed to be fed. Now.

Bale ran the flat of his tongue from her knee down to her
open sex. Against her skin he murmured words she guessed were from his native
language in that raspy voice that sent vibrations straight to her clit.

“Please, Bale. I need to be filled.”

The tip of his finger teased the opening to her sheath. “No.
You’re not ready yet.”

“Bullshit,” she shouted. “Fuck me. Fuck me now. Please.”

“Will this suffice?” He sank his forefinger into her pussy
down to the knuckle.

Oh, that was nice. Nice, but not enough.

“More. More.”

“How about this?” Two fingers plunged deep, the tips
massaged the neck of her womb in little circles.

That could work. She humped against his hand, her heart
ready to burst as she reached out for the orgasm dangling so close she could
taste its sweetness.

Then the bastard pulled away. “Son of a bitch!”

Again with the evil laughter. She shook her head to clear
the damp strands that had fallen across her face with all her thrashing and
shot him a glare that should have brought him to his knees.

“I think you will enjoy this better,” he said as he rolled a
condom down his thick shaft.

The coiled power in his body as he moved into position sent
a spike of adrenaline to her brain and her teeth chattering with the intensity.
His dark gaze pinned her in place as he slowly inserted his cock into her
sheath in a long, steady stroke until he could go no farther.

His eyelids fluttered and nostrils flared when she clenched
her inner muscles around the invasion, pulsing and releasing as if to coax the
cum from his balls.

“Thank you,” he murmured, then pulled back his hips and
lunged hard, driving the breath from her lungs. He snarled and hooked her legs
over his arms and drove deep, again and again, in a pace that never wavered.

Tears streamed down her face as the most exquisite fire
erupted within, consuming her from the inside out. The world disappeared until
only Bale remained, his strength, his heat, tunneling into her soul and staking
his claim. And still he never stopped, thrusting balls-deep and drawing her
orgasm out until her lungs struggled for air and she wept for relief.

Sweat dripped from his brow, the sheen on his alabaster skin
made him look like an otherworldly conqueror. The cock wedged in her cunt was
rock hard, pulsing with the need to release his cum. He said not a word as he
rolled her weak body over and positioned her on her knees. Her body was so
ready, he sank every inch of his shaft with one thrust into her still-twitching
core. Unintelligible words fell from her lips but the message was clear.

Take me. My body is yours. Give me your all.

The touch of his fingers rubbing against her clit ignited
another blast of energy that had her bound hands clutching the bed sheets as
she sent howling praises to the Lord. Consciousness faded as she struggled for
air and her body continued to shake from the two orgasms. Part of her craved
more of the addictive sensations while the other half was terrified she’d never
survive what he planned for her next.

The sensation of cool gel oozing between the cheeks of her
ass followed by the press of Bale’s finger against the tiny hole roused her
attention.

She tensed at the pressure and she felt Bale freeze a moment
later. Once before she had tried anal sex. It hadn’t been the best of
experiences, but it hadn’t been the worst either.

With a glance over her shoulder she saw Bale holding himself
in check. The muscles in his arms and legs twitched as if fighting against the
command to hold still. His breath bellowed like that of a bull after a long
hard run, his chest expanding hard with each inhale.

“Is this bad?” he gritted out, clearly at the end of his control.

“No,” she whispered, unable to talk any louder. “Go. Slow.”

He shuddered and resumed the gentle probing of her ass.
Throughout their short history together, Bale had always treated her with the
utmost care, ensuring she received everything she needed. There was no reason
for her to believe that would change now. What better way to display her trust
than by giving him something he clearly craved?

The generous amount of lubrication eased his way and
surprisingly the penetration didn’t hurt, not even when he added a second
finger. Before long she was pushing back, enjoying the stretch and fullness.

“Ari,” he groaned then pulled out from her altogether.

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