SEIZED Part 3: Steamy Romantic Suspense (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (9 page)

Carrie

Jason takes charge with no hesitation. I don’t have the strength to fight it. My body wants him. He sits up and pulls me onto his lap. I can feel the muscles of his long legs underneath my thighs. He’s holding me there, waiting for me to react. I don’t want to wait. I want his mouth on me. I want to forget Blake. I want reality to disappear, so I kiss him.

Our lips meet and I can taste his power. He doesn’t hesitate, groaning into my mouth and pulling me against his chest. The pace of his breathing increases. I throw back my head as he ravishes my throat. My desire is fierce, and the feeling of his hard cock against the seam of my tracksuit drives me wild. I sink further into him. I’m already soaking wet. All I want to do is rip off my shirt.

He slides two hands up underneath the back of my tank top, releasing the catch of my sports bra, and pulls it over my head. My nipples are hard. I’m desperate to feel his fingers on them. His restraint is driving me wild. I continue to rock against him, whimpering for attention.

“Please, touch me please…”

I must have said the magic words because before I know it, he’s thumbing my nipples, squeezing and rubbing an exquisite tune of torture. I love the escape his hands on me offers. I lean back on the bed, oblivious to the outside world and lost in the pleasure as I give him full access. He takes a moment to bring my legs around to straddle him. I’m begging for his hands and his mouth in the spaces around the inactive wire device.

His hands are down around my hips. Thumbs circling the area above my panty line through the yoga pants. I want him to press into me, I want to feel my skin bruise under him. I want to feel something to make me remember I’m alive.

He reaches down and strokes my clit through the material. I’m sure I’m soaking already. His fingers tickle and rub me in the most delicious way, the friction driving me to the edge without warning. I let out a moan and beg him to do it faster. I think it’s my voice that makes him growl. When he sinks his teeth into the soft skin in my neck, the cross between pleasure and pain makes me insane with desire.

The combination of his fingers, his mouth and the shock of what’s just happened culminate in an orgasm that rips through my body like lightening. I’m bucking wildly against his cock, screaming his name, and crying tears of relief. My pussy continues to clench and shake as I come back to reality.

The look on his face is deeply satisfied. He’s so pleased with himself; so in control. It has to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I just let this man own me and in doing so, had the orgasm of my life. This isn’t what I thought could happen. I feel powerful, alive and changed. From here I can take action. He’s made me feel like I can do this. I slide off his lap and go to the bathroom to dress myself while I catch my breath. Jason has made me do things I didn’t know I’d enjoy; things I want to experience over and over again.

I get back into the room and look at him again. He holds out a hand and pulls me to stand between his legs. He takes my jaw in his hand. The grip is not hard, but firm. He holds me there, assessing and watching my reactions to him.

The energy between us ticks and explodes. His hands are in my hair. I close my eyes and let him take control of my body. He leans forward and pulls me into his arms.               His kiss is hard and his hands on my neck feel amazing. I want to melt into his arms, so I do, fully surrendering to the moment. I let go of all my anxiety to let him mold my body to his. I feel safe and I allow him to take my mouth.

He stops and looks into my eyes, standing up and pulling me into a long hug as I lean into him, giving his strength to me. I wait for him to make another move. He doesn’t. I sense he’s waiting for me to take the lead. I take a deep breath and I wait as well.

He’s tall, he’s handsome and he’s awfully close. The energy between us ratchets up again and I feel a sharp tug in my groin. His lips are so red and luscious and beautifully formed. They’re lips that are meant to be kissed. They’re so plump, and the urge to reach out and put my finger on the bottom one is overwhelming. I look him in the eye, and I do that with my index finger. He has one hand on my shoulder, and I return the favor.

I smile. This last twenty minutes of intimacy is way out of place for someone who just this morning was talking about inappropriate behavior between cops and witnesses or victims. The hypocrisy is thick, but the desire zig sagging between us is even more intense.

I breathe in. I see he does the same when his chest rises. Something about the act of taking a shaky breathe is so human and real, it makes the power dynamic between us fade away. I’m left standing before him as a woman, not a witness. His eyes tell me he feels the same way.

I sense he won’t make another move. I lean in slowly. His hand is still on my shoulder, and as I draw closer, he moves it over to my shoulder blades. He rubs insistently at the sore spot that always bugs me. His hands are strong and probing. I continue to move closer.

“Carrie,” he says. “Take off your top.”

My eyes widen at how direct he is. Without even meaning to, my fingers start straying towards the zip to follow his instruction. I slide the zip down slowly and once it’s open he says, “Take it off.”

I like a man to be manly, but there’s something even sexier about this. He knows what he wants. It completely removes the need for me to think.

I do it. I slide it off my shoulders. I’m standing before him in my yoga pants, sports bra and a thin tank top again. He’s fully dressed. The shirt and dress pants are not even wrinkled. He looks just as sharp as he did when he first came through my door early this morning.

“Take off the pants, Carrie.”

I know where this is going, but the commanding tone in his voice makes me curious. While I continue to meet his eyes, I slide the elastic waist band down and around my butt. They’re tight, so I take them off like I would a pair of stockings—roll by roll, and slowly while I bend over in front of him. I can see his posture stiffen a little. I’m arousing him. My breath is coming faster, and he hasn’t even touched me.

I stand in front of him in my underwear and tank top. I cock my hip to one side. It makes me look a little leaner around the thighs. I am worrying about my body, wondering if he approves or not. He obviously does. I quiet my mind and wait for his next instruction. It’s liberating, not having to think or choreograph how I will move or what needs to happen.

“Take your top off for me, Carrie. Do it now.”

I do it. I’m nearly naked. I resist the urge to cover myself. The lighting in the room is too bright, and I’m sure it’s not as forgiving as I want it to be. That’s the thing about playing with a man you don’t know. When it’s not dulled by alcohol or softened by darkness, it feels so much more real.

He looks at me with an absurdly satisfied look on his face. He must be pleased I’m here at his mercy. This is so different from Blake. It’s rougher and less emotional. It matters less. My heart’s not here. It’s just my body. I don’t normally seek out this submissive stuff, but it’s a buzz.

He reaches out and touches my breast, cupping it with his palm. I’m all pouty lips, dilated pupils and obedience. There’s something so powerful about being submissive. So many people get it wrong. I feel I have more control than he ever could right now. I am giving him my body, and it’s super fucking intense.

“Bend over, Carrie.” I’m just in my underwear now and I do as instructed, bending forward so my breasts fall into globes towards the floor. He stands above me, stroking the length of my back. From the spine to the base of my neck and back down again. I can see the muscles showing through his slacks. He’s probably a cyclist, with quads of steel and sturdy legs topped by a lean upper half.

I reach out and grab one of his ankles. This is almost a yoga pose. It positions my butt directly in his view. I can tell he likes it. He extends his touch to my ass, cupping it, measuring it, and for the first time, I feel openly objectified. Do I like this? I don’t know, but I want more of it.

I stand up of my own volition. His eyes are burning into me now. I put both my palms on his chest. He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he tells me to take his clothes off. I begin undressing him. We’re both silent as I slip off his jacket and lay it neatly on the back of the chair.

His hands point to his belt. I unbuckle it, and then undo his shirt, button by button. His skin is a deep tan under the white high quality cotton. There’s not a hair on his chest, and his nipples are small and pink. There are no tattoos on this man; just the scent of expensive aftershave. I slowly remove the shirt and wait. He’s left in his pants now, but he stops my hands as I reach for them.

“Turn around.”

I do exactly what he says and catch my breath as he pulls me into him and bends himself down. He cradles me from behind, biting gently on the back of my neck. His teeth on me are a shock, but he follows up each nip with a gentle kiss that sets my skin on fire.

I am wet already as desire for him throbs at my core. It’s tantalizing. The world and everything in it disappear. Both of his hands are holding my hips, and on my own, I move closer and rub my ass into his cock. I’m at a right angle to him and the hardening in his pants presses right up against the thin fabric of my G-string.

His palms separate my ass cheeks, and I can feel his eyes on me. He’s examining my pussy from behind. His gaze is matched with a murmur, which I take as approval, followed by the gentle strokes and tickles of his fingers as he plays and strokes at the lips of my soaking pussy. His fingers are covered in my juice. I press back into them. My growing desire makes me want to beg and thrust myself into his hands. He holds me still, continuing the sweet torture. I place my palms on the floor so I’m stable. I can feel my thighs start to shake with excitement. This is so sizzling hot. I want all of him, more of him. I want him inside me, but he’s the one in control, not me.

“Stand up for me, sweetheart.” I do and I turn around and move directly into his arms. He takes his pants off. His cock is long and hard. He’s completely waxed. I immediately slip my hands down in front of him to cup his soft ball sack. His thick cock jumps straight into my hands for my attention. I grasp it, squeezing the shaft, gripping it and enjoying the look of distance that appears on his face.

I have the power now and it feels amazing. I rub the head of his cock slowly and he groans.

“Yeah, rub that dick, Carrie. Do it harder.”

Jesus. With this man, I’m an entirely different woman and it’s so refreshing. I can probably do whatever I want to him.

I continue to do as he’s telling me. I squeeze his cock head and grind my fist at the base of his cock. It’s fully extended now. He tells me he wants to come in my mouth. I want to taste all of him. I keep my hands moving in a steady rhythm, faster and faster. His eyes are closed in sheer abandon. Pleasuring him this way is one of the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to do everything he wants.

“Tell me what to do.”

I’m breathless as I say it. I’m close to coming and he hasn’t been inside me. It feels more important to get him off right now. I want to please him.

“Get on your knees.” He doesn’t push me. I willingly slide downwards and begin to tongue the ridge of his cock, continuing to pump at the base. Within less than a minute, he stiffens and cries out as he pumps a load of hot come down my throat, his hands in my hair. I swallow every drop. I’m gasping and rubbing myself to a furious orgasm at the same time.

We’re both breathing like exhausted track stars. His hands are in my hair and he’s humming with appreciation.

He stands me up and looks into my eyes. “Thank you.”

A smile rises on his face. This was fun. I feel free. No inhibitions, no feelings. Just a little taste of wild pleasure to take the pressure off. It’s pretty incredible how different I feel compared to this morning. This whole thing with Blake had me so wound up. Years of emotion and caring and feeling clutter the landscape between us. Agent Jason Cooper could be exactly what I need to get a proper perspective.

He pulls away from me and walks naked to the bathroom to clean up. He brings a towel back when he’s finished. I’m still languishing on the floor, hands back, looking up at that gorgeous body. A girl has to enjoy these things while they’re around. What else is life for?

He wraps the thick towel around his neck and then kneels in front of me. He has a warm wash cloth is his hands, and even though he doesn’t need to, he wipes my face. Being attended to like this is surprising, but I let him do it. He pulls me to my feet and hands me the towel around his neck. There’s no ego stuff going on here. It’s two people enjoying each other.

Something shifts inside me when he holds me again. My upended instincts kick in. I feel my hands on his chest, pushing gently and then harder to put some distance between us. I’m hot and confused. He offers divine comfort, but I’m not ready for more.

I need time to myself. I need my own arms around me. I need sleep, and I think I need to be alone. The admission makes me sad; deeply sad. I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Please, I need to be alone. I’m sorry, Jason.”

The look on his face is stricken. I’ve hurt him, but he’s not my priority right now. He stiffens up and walks towards the door. I climb under the covers and face the wall. As the door closes softly behind him, I doubt sleep is going to come easy, but before I know it, I’m dead to the world.