Page 95 of Captive of Outlaws
With a single stroke, he fills me to the hilt. I gasp again, harder this time, in shock and delight and the smallest bit of pain. But that dissipates, and then it’s just the sweet tight fit and feeling of him pumping, pumping, pumping inside me.
“Damn, you feel good,” he grunts. “Too good.” Above me, his jaw tightens. “I need to fuck you hard, Maren. I can’t—”
“Do it,” I breathe, feeling the slick heat of him sliding just to my entrance and back. “Give it to me.”
On a shudder, Rob nods, and leans into me, burying his face in my neck. His left hand finds my nipple again, working it so hard and taut that I almost come from the sensation alone. But I catch my breath, pace myself, even as he slams harder and harder into me, driving at something deep within my core that builds stronger and stronger even as it burns me from inside. The car rocks beneath us with the force of his thrusts, and I hear myself let out a mewling sound I didn’t know was hidden within me.
But Rob must like it, because I see the corner of his mouth turn up.
“Just like that. Hearing you makes me...” His jaw tightens. “Goddamn.You’re—”
He doesn’t finish—because I do.
The orgasm hits me like a rogue wave, a surprise, wiping me off my feet as it pulses through every nerve ending, spurting pleasure to every corner of my body. I cling to him as it rocks me, my fingers digging his back, and I gasp his name and just as I feel myself tighten and tighten around him, he drives into me hard, almost hard enough to break me, until I’m filled with his shuddering liquid warmth.
For a few moments, we just breathe—pant, really, clinging to each other.
Then Rob smiles that wicked smile of his and plants a kiss right on my forehead. “See, knew you’d like—”
“Fucking hell,” roars a voice from the corner.
It’s LJ.
Immediately, I wonder how much he saw—enough, I think, but not everything. It’s pretty hard to hide what we were doing, even as I slither back into my clothes.
“What the fuck areyoudoing there?” Rob says, pulling his pants on as he scrambles out of the car.
“I’msupposedto be teaching Maren how to fight,” LJ growls. “Like we agreed. Seven a.m. sharp, as I recall?”
Oh, shit. He’s right. I completely lost track of time.
LJ exhales, hard. “I’d ask what the fuckyouwere doing, but it’s pretty goddamn obvious.” He flashes his eyes at me. “You should hear the sounds you make when you come, Princess.”
My cheeks get hot.
“Hey,” Rob barks, and strides, still shirtless, across the floor to get up in LJ’s face. “Don’t you—”
LJ backs off, hands spread wide.
“It was a damn compliment,” he mutters. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Locksley.” He looks back at me. “Take a breather. Get some food and water in you. Come upstairs when you’re ready.”
“Okay.” I stand up fully now, dressed again and with most of my composure retained. I stare back at LJ, hard.
You don’t scare me.
“Good,” LJ says. He looks at Rob.
“Don’t worry.Iwon’t hurt her.”
And maybe I’m imagining it, but there’s something in the way he says it. Something I don’t quite understand.
Chapter Twenty-Five
LJ’S APARTMENT IS ANapartment in name only. In the far corner, I see a bed and nightstand peeking out from behind a Japanese-style screen, but other than that, this is a gym.
The spacious room is bathed in light from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Mirrored walls stretch along one side, reflecting an impressive array of equipment meticulously arranged across the polished hardwood floor: a sleek treadmill, a rack of free weights, a squat rack and barbell. Suspended from one of the crossbeams, a row of heavy bags sway gently, ready to take their lumps.
And, of course, the star of the show: an elevated platform with padded flooring, surrounded by an arsenal of training aids: speed bags, agility ladders, and grappling dummies with angry grimaces on their rubber faces.
