Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel (39 page)

“Oh.” She pushed away the disappointment. What had she expected, that he would stay on the phone with her until dawn? He needed sleep so he could get up early, come to her. “Well, I…when will you be here tomorrow? Or today.” She glanced at the clock, saw it was after one.

“In about ten minutes. I have to get off the phone because I’m pulling up the drive and I need to let Dale know I’m not someone he needs to break into twenty pieces and then shoot.”

Her toes curled in delight at the idea of seeing him so soon, but she tried to sound nonchalant. “Wouldn’t he save himself a lot of effort just shooting you?”

“SEALs like a workout. See you in a minute, darlin’.” His voice got husky. “When I get up there, I expect to see you naked and playing with those gorgeous breasts, your legs spread, showing me how wet your pussy is, because I’m going to fuck you first thing. No foreplay tonight. I need to be inside you.”

He clicked off, leaving her in mid-shudder. She was warm all over, so it was easy to push away the covers. Not as easy to do as he bid, because she felt self-conscious drawing off the sleep shirt, but then she thought of how he’d look as he came through the door, the brown eyes piercing. The light from the decorated trees illuminated the room so he’d be able to see her, the pink of her flesh, the neediness of her eyes, the fullness of her parted lips, their moistness as she hungered for his mouth to be on hers.

It was less than ten minutes, which was good, because she might have chickened out on the pose. He didn’t knock, the door opening then closing behind him, ensuring their privacy. The house was silent, though, everyone sleeping at this point, gathering energy for the busy day ahead.

Leland had already had a busy day, and a bad one. She could see it around his eyes, in the set of his mouth. Her Master was exhausted, mentally and physically. Cops didn’t bring it home. He’d said that himself, that they didn’t want what they saw to touch their family, and they didn’t want being home with their family to be about that for themselves as well.

Yet there were things that could bleed over, because there was no setting them aside. She’d expected him to have the fierce light of lust in his eyes, to feel that edgy passion. He had that, could give her that, but she saw something else.

He’d said he needed to be inside her. He needed her, period.

The gaze he slid up her body was pure, desperate hunger. She’d pleased him by doing as he’d ordered, opening her legs, cupping her breasts, offering herself to him, but as he leaned against the door, staring at her as if she was the best thing he’d ever seen, she wanted to do more. She slid her hands down her body, trailed her fingers between her legs, stroked herself. Dipped her fingers inside her slick labia. His eyes darkened, and his barely leashed desire made her breath shorten.

Withdrawing her fingers, she lifted herself off the bed, tucking her legs under her so she could come to the end of the bed, slide off of it. He watched her, still and waiting, as she came to him. He was wearing street clothes, and his scent said he’d showered, trying to get rid of what still lay behind his eyes.

She’d hung up on him, been testy. The problem with being a dysfunctional bitch was the chronic selfishness that went along with it. She hadn’t asked about the homicides, hadn’t watched the day’s news, because it would have just irritated her further, not being able to be right there, digging up all she could on it, preparing notes for her blog.

If she let those negative feelings rise, they would take this over, make her hate herself anew. But for once, she set that aside, because suddenly what was more important to her was being there for him.

She put her hand on his face. “I’m sorry.”

She loved him. It was there on the tip of her tongue, absurd, too soon. It couldn’t be true. But she wanted to love him, and it had been so long since she’d wanted to love anyone, it was almost the same.

“I’m all yours,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “Whatever you need, Master.”

Moving her fingers to his mouth, she painted her taste on his lips. She drew in a breath as he closed his hand on her wrist and licked her skin, taking all of it off. When he released her, she began to slip the buttons of his shirt. She leaned in, pressing kisses to his flesh, between the defined pectorals, along his sternum, her lips whispering across his chest to his nipple, then higher, brushing her nose against his shoulder inside the open shirt. As she went to her toes to reach it, she curved her fingers into his shirt and dropped her other hand to his belt. He cupped the back of her head as she nuzzled him, kissed his collarbone. Then she went back to undressing him.

Pushing the shirt off his massive shoulders, she followed its track with her fingertips, then she began to loosen his belt. His hands went to her hips, his intent gaze on her. Just watching her. It made her fumble a little bit, but as he bent and kissed her bare shoulder, she tilted her head against his. Held it there, cheekbone to his temple.

His hands slid down, cupped her bottom, stroking and kneading. Then he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, arms winding around his shoulders as he carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he stretched out over her, but he didn’t thrust into her right away as he’d said. Instead he slid down so her pussy was against the hard ridges of his abdomen. He cupped her breasts, fondling them with pure pleasure in his gaze. Lowering his head, he began to suck.

“Oh…” She gasped, lifted her hips. His weight kept her pressed to the bed, but as she struggled, it increased the friction of her clit against his sectioned stomach muscles. “Leland… Master.” She let it out on a breath. Every worry and fear was beyond her grasp, at least in this moment. “Master.” She gripped his shoulders, held on to him.

The climax rose fast, and she warned him as much as she was able, with a desperate gasp, a strangled cry. Rising up, he sealed his mouth over hers, cupping her skull again to hold her in place as she screamed her pleasure into his mouth. Her hips worked against him as her clit spasmed, as the climax gushed, making his abdomen slick with her juices. He lifted his head, stared at her as she came down with tiny moans, her mouth still slack and eyes dazed.

“Open my jeans, Celeste,” he demanded. “Grip my cock with those pretty fingers.”

She slipped the button of the jeans, pushed the zipper down over the erection. Reaching into the boxers, she closed her hands around him, exulting at the shudder that ran through his powerful frame. He pulled away from her, leaving her with an almost unbearable sense of loss, but it was only for a blink. He stripped off shoes and clothes, came back to her as naked as she was, and she let out a groan of sheer gratitude as he put a knee onto the bed between her legs, gripped his cock and angled it into her. She was already lifting her hips to take him, but he slid an arm around her waist, raising her further and thrusting into her at the same time, a forceful possession that had her crying out again, aftershocks from her climax rocking through her at his size and demand.

“Take your Master deep.” Catching her jaw with a firm hand, he wouldn’t let her look away. “This is why you won’t make me go away. I see it in your face. I see everything you really are right now. The rest is bullshit. None of it matters.”

She was helpless to deny it, could only strain to give him more and more as he delved deep, took more than she’d ever known she had to give. When he released her jaw, she wrapped her arms hard around his shoulders, buried her face in his neck, and cried out a second climax when he released, thrusting hard into her, fucking her with the singular, animal purpose he’d promised. She relished the jet of his seed, the excess spilling out around the joining point between them.

It had taken only minutes, yet the intensity of it had stretched out like the boundless universe.

He bent, nudged her cheek toward the pillow so he could put his mouth against her neck, bite. She let out a little quivering sigh, dug her nails into his flesh, lifted her hips to take him deeper, squeeze down on him.

“God.” He let out a gusty sigh against her flesh, gave her his full weight for a single, blissful moment before he propped himself up, looked down at her. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all day,” he said, his sculpted features and golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I couldn’t wait to be with you.”

She’d never been the type of girl who received compliments like that. She wasn’t even sure it was a compliment as much as a fervent statement of fact, which was more unexpected. She spread her hands out over his chest, fanning her fingers over that expanse of firm, tempting muscle.

“I’d like to lie on top of you,” she said. “If that’s okay.”

His lips twitched. “Probably a good idea. In another second I’m going to collapse and you’ll be squashed.”

With a satisfied grunt, he shifted. Though he had to slide from inside her, he curled an arm around her so they were still close together as he moved to his back. He adjusted his thighs so she could lie between them, her cheek pillowed on his chest. His cock was against her stomach, her knee bent and against the inside of his thigh, her buttock braced against the opposite one. She felt cradled in his strength, his hand stroking her back, but she wanted to touch as well. She caressed his side, fingers stroking along his rib cage, his hip. She moved her mouth against his chest, small kisses here and there, random, drifting. She wanted to put him back inside her and thought he’d let her do that when he recovered enough. She thought he would need her more than once that way tonight, and she was more than willing to accommodate him, no matter how deep the circles under her eyes tomorrow.

“What happened?” she asked at last. She didn’t want him to rehash it if he didn’t desire to do so, but her intuition told her he at least needed to say it out loud, think it through.

He drew a circle on her back, slow, thoughtful. “Things are ramping up between the MoneyBoyz and the Reigning Kings. Retaliation for killing one of their members. Good news is it means that Dogboy isn’t going to have much luck getting the guys to help with you. They have too much else going on. I don’t think the drive-by was part of their deal. He probably called in a favor from a couple buddies.”

She thought of Dogboy’s friend, Bobby. “That makes sense. So did he leave town?”

“It’s looking like it. The detectives have intel that he took off to Houston, to lay low with some contacts he has there. They’re coordinating with the Houston PD to see what they can turn up.”

“Mmm.” She didn’t say anything else. Just kept laying kisses on his chest, stroking his firm skin. The tree lights outside made the golden-brown color of his flesh smooth and burnished. He was beautiful to her in every way. As he stroked her hair, she followed her own desires and what she thought she could do for him at the same time. She began to move downward, teasing the washboard abs with her tongue, dropping her hands to his hips, stroking the curve of his taut buttocks, his upper thighs. Satisfying pleasure shot through her when his cock twitched, stirring against her body. When she adjusted so she was fully between his legs, her mouth over his cock, she put her lips on the broad head, tasting and smelling herself on him. She teased the corona with her tongue, the slit. His cock twitched further, coming to a semi-erect state. She was in no hurry.

As she glanced upward and caught her Master’s gaze, watching her please him, things in her lower belly jumped at his intent regard. Keeping her eyes on his, she opened her mouth wider, took him in, sliding down his length, savoring, tasting, sucking. She traced his contours with her tongue, released him to slide down and lick his testicles, play her mouth along his base, then swirled, sucked and nipped all the way to the top. Pushing up to her knees, she gripped him and found the angle she wanted to slide straight down, take him all the way to her throat and work her way back up again. She didn’t care how long it took to bring him to orgasm again. It was all about giving him pleasure. When she saw his thighs tighten, felt him push into her mouth, heard the muttered oath, she reveled in all of his responses.

It wasn’t penance for her behavior, which would have made her feel more uncertain of herself. This was service, and for once she embraced the full meaning of it, a giving of herself with no worries about conditions or shortcomings.

“Look at me.”

Lifting her lashes, she trembled at the fire in his gaze, his reaction to her obedience, to the way she looked, meeting his eyes while her mouth was stretched over his cock and down his length as far as she could go without choking. He was a lot to take, and she was more than happy to put in the effort. She slid up his length, leaving him glistening with the moistness of her mouth, then went down again, clasping the base in one sure hand, her thumb stroking the pulsing veins. She sucked on the ridges of his head, went back down again. Now he put his hand on her head, dug his fingers into her scalp and started to push her down on him, directing her, letting her feel the strength of his desire.

She was surprised when he stopped her, sliding his hands under her arms and bringing her up his body, but her Master told her what he wanted.

“Ride me, Celeste. I want to watch you.”

She straddled him. His ardent gaze coursed all over her; face, breasts, abdomen, the pale lengths of her thighs spread over his hips. She curled her fingers around him and rose up on her knees, positioning the head of his cock between her legs. Putting his hands on her hips, he controlled the descent, lowering her on him inch by inch, his gleaming gaze fastened on her face as her lips parted and eyes clung to him. Once he had her seated, he let her go, gave her that look again. She didn’t need him to speak to command her. Every look, the brief press of his fingers, told her what he wanted, how she could please him.

She started to move, rotating her hips on him, rising and falling, her head tipping back at the pleasure of it, at the way his hips started rocking up to meet hers again, at the way his expression became more concentrated. He cupped her breasts, constricting his grip and using it to bring her down on him harder, telling her what he wanted. He wanted to be ridden.