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Authors: Anna Alexander

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“Count each one out loud and say thank you.”

Crack.

Her swing landed as her words registered. He wasn’t sure
what shocked him more, the blast of pain across his butt cheek or the order to
thank her.

“Ah, one,” he stammered. “Thank you.”

“Louder.”
Thwack.

“Two. Thank you, Mistress.”

Jasmina peppered his ass in steady smacks from the fleshiest
part of his cheeks to the backs of his thighs. The sharp stings settled into a
fiery ache that pulled him into another dimension in a gentle suction like the
tide pulling back from the shore. God, yes. This was what he needed. Nothing
else existed but the burn encompassing his body and the way he felt as light as
a feather, rolling along on the current of Jasmina’s ocean. Not his job, not
his family, nothing but what Jasmina granted him to feel.

The smacks stopped at twenty-five, yet he swayed backward,
reaching for the next swat.

“Good boy,” Jasmina cooed and placed a kiss on the curve of
his hot skin. “You may sit up.”

As he sat upright, the room swayed then cleared in sharp
relief the moment his tender backside hit his legs. Damn. He might not be able
to sit properly for a week.

“Do we have an understanding now, Rookie?” she asked as she
secured the cabinet.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Part of me wishes you disobey again just so I can redden
your fine ass some more, but I think you may have enjoyed it too much. Perhaps
I’ll spank you again for a reward some other time.”

With that his cock jerked in agreement. God, he really was a
perverted bastard.

“I must say, watching you fall into the rhythm of the
spanking made my pussy ache.” She reached for the zipper on the side of her hip
and tugged down the tag. The skirt fell to the floor without a sound to pool at
her feet.

With her sheer top clinging to her torso, she was just as
good as naked. Maybe even better. Her breasts were still a mystery but from the
waist down she was all lush curves with full hips and thick thighs that looked
as soft as velvet and strong enough to grip him tight around the waist while he
fucked her hard.

And hard he would take her when finally granted the
opportunity. Mistress was not a delicate flower, and he knew a timid lover
would disappoint her.

“You like to talk a good game, Rookie. Let’s see how
talented your mouth is.” She sat in her chair and hooked a leg over each arm.
Her thighs parted, giving him the perfect view of the bare lips of her pussy
that were already slick with her arousal and made him hunger for a taste.
“Crawl to me.”

With pleasure.

He felt like a feral jungle cat with his shoulder blades
rolling and the heavy weight of his cock bobbing between his thighs as he
stalked across the floor, only she wasn’t prey. Even spread out in a vulnerable
position, Jasmina held all the power.

“Use your mouth and your hands to make my pussy feel good,”
she ordered.

It took a great deal of effort not to fall upon her like a
starving beast. The silky skin of her inner thighs felt cool against his hot
palms as he skimmed them up her legs to part the petals of her labia. In the
past, oral sex had been something he had performed more to pleasure his partner
than because he enjoyed the act, but now he craved the feel of her clit on his
tongue and her flavor on his palate.

He touched the tip of his tongue to the pink bud, just a
brief flick, then long licks up and down in slow circles around her labia
before plunging both thumbs into her sheath.

In anticipation of when he’d be asked to please his Mistress
in this manner, he was not ashamed to admit he did some online research by
watching a lot of videos. By the way she squirmed in her seat, the effort had
been well worth it.

“Ah!” she gasped with a startled jump and tunneled the
fingers of her hand into his hair as she melted against his tongue. “Hmm.
That’s nice. Slow down. I don’t want you to tire before I’m ready. That’s it.
More pressure. Umm.”

With her direction, Marco brought his Mistress to the brink
over and over again, learning what pleased her most. He discovered she loved to
walk the razor’s edge, relishing the anticipation of being pushed off the cliff
into the sea of oblivion. He replaced his thumbs with two fingers and worked
them deep inside her. Just as her cunt quivered with orgasm, she would tug at
his hair for him to back off and build her up again.

As he fucked her with his hand, he watched from beneath his
lashes the way she clenched her teeth together to hold back her moans, how her
dark eyes glittered with lust and the pink flush graced her round cheeks. Her
breasts heaved beneath her top, and with her free hand, she pulled the material
across her nipples for more stimulation. Even so close to orgasm, she was in
complete control.

Desperate to see her come undone, he crooked his fingers and
began massaging the inner walls of her pussy, learning where the sheath was
smooth, and where she was rough, experimenting with his touch from glancing
caresses to solid taps on her flesh.

When he hit a sensitive area, she cursed and pressed his
face tighter against her snatch. “Right there. Don’t stop. Yes. Yes. God. Don’t
stop. I swear if you stop, I’ll hang you by your dick.”

For some reason that thought turned him on and he moaned
around her clit, making her sheath tighten in return.

“Yes.” She worked her hips harder. “Open up, baby. I’m going
to come on your face. Yes. Yes.”

A deep groan eased out from her lips as the walls of her
pussy rippled and her cream flooded his mouth, but he didn’t stop his massaging
fingers. Damn, he felt like a god as he hovered over her and watched as she
writhed against his hand.

It was at that moment when he realized the truth of their
arrangement. They might have signed a document that stated for the next three
months she owned him, but he now saw how he owned her as well. As he worked her
down from her high and her body jerked with residual spasms, she belonged to
him. A fact that was confirmed when she raised her sex-drugged eyes to his and
he saw the surrender in her gaze.

For a brief second he felt the earth move and the planets
align in that heart-stopping bullshit way that signified a significant life
change. It was as if a neon sign in the shape of an arrow was pointing right at
her saying, “She’s the one. This is your woman. She’s yours for the taking.”

And she knew it too. Her eyes widened and he heard her
breath catch before the princess look returned and Mistress Jasmina was back in
charge.

She gripped his wrist and brought his wet fingers to her
mouth. With the flat of her tongue she licked her cream from his skin, sucking
the tips into her mouth with gentle pulls. Once she was finished, she placed
his hand on the arm of the chair. “You’ve pleased me, my pet. For that you
shall be rewarded. Place your other hand on this arm. Keep your hands in
place.”

With his arms caging her to the chair, it might have
appeared as if she were in the weaker position, but the second she gripped the
base of his cock, he was completely powerless in her hold. She swiped at the
tip of his damp cock with her thumb then guided the head down to strum her
clit.

“You’ve made me so wet and slippery. I want to feel you
glide against my clit. Pump your hips. That’s it, fuck the lips of my pussy.”

He closed his eyes on a groan and plowed the length of his
cock between the swollen folds of her sex. The woman was diabolical. All he had
to do was pull back an inch and in a heartbeat he could be buried balls-deep
inside her and hammering home until she screamed his name, his real name, to
the sky. Just a tiny a fraction of an inch and he’d be in heaven. Or absolute
hell.

What pleasures would Jasmina withhold if he got greedy? What
worse forms of torture would she subject him to if he took what he desperately
craved?

His fingers dug like claws into the leather and his jaw
ached from clenching his teeth together. She hadn’t given him permission to
come and he was ready to fire off like an AK-47 with a hair-trigger.

“That’s it, my pet.” She scored her nails down his chest and
arms. “Keep this up and you’ll make me come again.”

Sweat burned his eyes and his nostrils flared with his harsh
breathing as he watched her fingers tug at the collar of her shirt. The plump
pillows of her breasts spilled out to lie like perfect mounds of whipped cream
upon her chest. She pinched each rosy nipple until they stood to attention like
gumdrops.

“I know how much you like my tits. Would you like a taste?”

“God, yes,” he thought he said. The words probably came out
more like a grunt than anything intelligible.

“Put your mouth on me. Suck my nipples and make me come.”

He bent his head and drew one dusky peak deep into his
mouth, lashing at the tip like he had her clitoris not minutes before. The
harder he sucked, the more labored her breathing grew and the harder she ground
her pussy against his shaft.

“Yes. Yes,” she panted and pulled his hair. “I’m coming. I’m
coming. Come with me. Spray your cum all over me. Now.”

The force of his orgasm made his eyes cross and back arch as
hot cum erupted out the swollen head of his dick, coating his Mistress in five
days’ worth of milky fluid. Over and over he spurted until his limbs gave out
and he fell back on his heels in a sweaty, heaving mess.

“No, no. Come back here.”

Somehow he found the strength to crawl back between her
splayed thighs. She reached down and stroked his shaft, drawing forth another
dribble of cum and a deep groan.

“Well done.” She smiled up at him like a pagan goddess of
sex and sin with her breasts marked with his teeth, and legs splayed wide open,
revealing her skin glistening with his seed. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t
do for her at that moment.

“Now, lick me clean.”

What?

Was she suggesting what he thought she was suggesting?

“Mistress?”

“You heard me. Lick me clean. I allowed you to spray your
cum all over me. Now lick it up. Every drop. I think you even got some on the
chair. All of it must be cleaned up.”

Lick his own cum? Was she insane?

Judging by her fierce stare and the firm set of her jaw, the
answer was no.

“Are you disobeying my orders, Rookie?”

“No, Mistress.” He swallowed hard. Holy hell. Was he really going
to do this?

Think about something else. Imagine it’s jam.

He lowered his head and laid the flat of his tongue against
the curve of her breast near the smallest droplet.

At first he tasted nothing but the salt of her skin.

This is good. I can do this.

He followed the trail down her sternum to the pool around
her navel. He held his breath and dove in.

The sweet aftertaste that lingered on his tongue was
unexpected. Almost citrusy like…pineapple.

The little minx. She had this planned the entire time. At least
she made the effort to make the experience enjoyable. With his apprehension
over the taste and texture of his own semen alleviated, he lapped at her skin
with renewed enthusiasm. And God almighty, did he come a lot.

It was so depraved, so debauched. He should be awash with
humiliation, burn with the shame of engaging in such a perverse act, but
instead he felt such a sense of freedom, he was lightheaded with the high.

“Good boy.” Jasmina wrapped her arms and legs around him and
held him tight. “You’re coming along just fine.”

Chapter Eight

 

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Marco strolled into the war room
and set the tray of coffees on the center of the table. “Italian roast and
doughnuts for your morning’s pleasure.”

Coulter’s pen fell from his hand. “Who are you and where’s
my captain?”

“Stuff it, Coulter,” Marquez said and reached for a cup. “He
brought the good stuff and it’s free. Thanks, Cap.”

The rest of his team murmured their thanks as Marco took his
seat near the head of the table.

“That must have been some date last night.”

“Date?” Peters asked around a mouthful of maple bar. “Are
you getting some action, Cap? My wife will want to know all about her.”

Santiago raised his hand. “Does she have a single friend?”

“Can’t a guy bring in coffee because he likes the people he
works with? If you’re going to be dicks about it, I’m not gonna do it again, so
drink up.” Marco clapped his hands together. “Santiago, what have we got?”

“Two of the contacts on Konkle’s phone are brothers, Alfonso
and Hector Tabateri.” He brought up a copy of their driver’s licenses on his
laptop to display from the projector shining against the white wall. “They’ve
been linked to several massage parlors that were suspected fronts for
prostitution. Lately they’ve been specializing in mobile services where the
girls come to you.”

“Who are the girls?” Marco asked, making notes for future
questions.

“According to L&I reports, there are eight employees.
All women with Anglo–Saxon-sounding names. Yet the permanent establishments employ
predominantly Asian women, many of whom are not legal. Services can only be
booked for the mobile services via their website. Peters has more details about
the website.”

Peters wiped a napkin across his lips and took over the
keyboard. “It appears as if the brothers are tracking IP addresses of those who
search the site and request bookings. If we try to book an appointment with one
of our computers, they’ll say no one is available. In fact one website
completely shut down after we clicked on some of the links. If we want to set
up a sting, we can’t use department resources or those suspected to be
department resources.”

“Marquez, get on setting up computers not bought with city
money,” Marco directed. “What else?”

As Santiago recited the details of the next contact on
Konkle’s phone, Marco’s cell vibrated near his elbow. He glanced at the screen
then sucked in a breath. A text from Jasmina. After a quick glance around the
room, he pulled up the message.

Drink a glass of pineapple juice before our next meeting.
I’m hungry.

Hot damn. Was she planning on sucking his cock until he came
down her throat? Sweet Jesus, he sure hoped so.

If he had his way, he’d be the one in the chair with Jasmina
kneeling between his legs. Her lips would be painted a dark red and stretched
around his dick as she slurped to her heart’s delight. Or maybe she’d tie him
to the table again, working him over and over until he sprayed like a geyser
all over his belly and she was the one to lick him clean. Man, that would be
awesome.

“Captain.”

Or maybe she’d be the one sitting in the chair and she’d
have him stand before her, his knees quaking as she tormented him with the
edges of her teeth. His Mistress was quite clever with ways to make him shake.

“Captain.”

What if she—

“Marco!”

“What?” He started and saw his men staring at them with
identical frowns on their faces. “Was there a question?”

Coulter looked to the phone in Marco’s hand and then down at
the bulge straining his zipper. “Not anymore.”

The rest of the men snickered around their doughnuts.

“Continue.” He waved at Santiago.

“Are you sure? I can wait if there’s a…pressing situation. I
don’t want to make things
harder
on you.”

“Continue,” he said through clenched teeth. “Please.”

Santiago snorted back more laughter and jiggled the pointer
that was on a photo of a man displayed on the screen. “As I was saying, this
man, Rosetti, did you hear what I said about him?”

Not a word. “Yeah, yeah.”

“He’s a dealer that was released on probation two weeks ago
and hasn’t checked in yet. He’s been known to stay in dive motels in Dunlap and
Cedar. The casino out there was his territory.”

“Are drugs his game or does—damn it.” The phone he forgot he
was still holding vibrated in his hand and about made him jump out of his skin
when it vibrated. This time it wasn’t a sexy text from his Mistress but an
incoming call from Dispatch. He picked it up immediately, snapping his fingers
to alert the others a call to action may be imminent. “DeWinter.”

Yep. A routine traffic stop had turned into a drug seizure.
As he took notes he gestured to his men to pack it in and standby for
assignments.

“We’re on our way.” He stood and slipped the phone into his
pocket. “Unexpected drug seizure. Coulter and I will check it out. Marquez, get
on securing a plant for the massage parlors. Santiago, alert Briggs out in
Cedar that she may have a freshly paroled dealer in her neighborhood. Let’s
plan on meeting back around two.”

The trip down to the parking garage was made in silence as
Marco created a mental checklist of things to be aware of when they arrived on
the scene. Smithwick wasn’t the only distributor in town and he knew it was
foolish to be too quick to add this incident to the list of the man’s crimes
and miss identifying a new player.

The second the car door shut them inside the SUV, Coulter
started in on him. “Who is she? And don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m
talking about. You’re seeing a woman. Or a guy. Is that it? You’re gay and
never told me?”

“What?” Jesus. Talk about going from zero to sixty in a
nanosecond. “I’m not gay. I am…seeing someone, but it’s new and none of your
business.”

“I disagree. If she’s causing you to lose focus, then it
does affect me and the team.”

“Get your panties outta your ass, Coulter. I’m completely
focused on my work and you of all people know that.”

“Do I? We’ve been working our asses off for the last three
years and then right when we’re on the cusp of closing this case, you’ve got a
new girlfriend. One you won’t say a thing about, and you’ve never been this
tight-lipped before. Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? How do you
know this girl isn’t one of Smithwick’s operatives to get you off his trail?”

The idea made him snort so hard with laughter he hurt his
sinuses. “Believe me, she’s not an operative. Look, I have never been more
determined to see Smithwick caught than I am now. And I am not distracted. I
have my reasons for keeping quiet, so let it be. We have job to do now, so
let’s go.”

Coulter snapped forward in his seat and gunned the engine.
“Yes, sir.”

Damn it all to hell. Despite their status within the
department, Coulter was the closest person Marco had to a friend. All of his
men were tight, but Coulter was like a little brother. And his lieutenant was
right. Never before had Marco withheld information about a lady friend. While
he wasn’t the kind to fuck and tell, he also never deliberately refused to
share the tiniest tidbit about a woman who managed to turn his head away from
his badge for any length of time.

Was that wrong? Sure, men didn’t share details of their
lives like women did with each other, but there was always locker room banter,
and even that much his relationship with Jasmina forbade him to have. And he
wasn’t holding back because he didn’t think Coulter wouldn’t understand. Of all
people Coulter would probably be the only one to not blink an eye at the
arrangement he had with Mistress Jasmina. Well, he might quirk an eyebrow, but
Coulter had been to The Cavern. He knew what went on within those walls.
Whether he was a Dom or a sub Marco wasn’t certain, but at least the man had an
idea that there was more to sex than the missionary position.

Marco glanced at the younger man to his side and felt the
urge to spill the truth tickle his lips. What would he say?
I’ve met this
amazing woman who’s smart, sexy and can make me come like a rocket. But it’s
more or less a business arrangement. I’ve signed a contract that she can do
whatever she wants to me for the next three months. After that, who knows?

And there was the rub. Jasmina wasn’t his girlfriend. What
they had was more or less a business arrangement. And he didn’t want it to be
business. At least he didn’t think he did. He wanted to talk to her like a man
and not a submissive. He wanted to talk about her to his friends and not think
twice about if that was appropriate. He wanted to be with her out in the sun
and see if her hair was really as dark as it appeared. He wanted to wake up
next to her in the morning and kiss her awake.

He wanted to kiss her. Period.

On the lips. Mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue. He wanted to
hold her to his chest and feel her melt against him.

Maybe Coulter was right and he was allowing his arrangement
with Jasmina to distract him, but he wasn’t going to quit her. No way. She was
making good on all of her promises and he’d never felt physically better or
more relaxed in his life.

A shift in strategy was in order. A realignment in
priorities. Smithwick was first, followed by family. His time with Jasmina was
ranking right up there. When the three months were over and Smithwick was
firmly behind bars, perhaps it would be time to take his relationship with
Jasmina to the next level.

He bit back a smile as he imagined how she would react when
he asked her out for dinner and a movie.

* * * * *

Jasmine adjusted the plum-colored bodice of her corset and
blew out a slow stream of air from her pursed lips. The dressing room she
shared with the other Dominatrixes at the club was empty, leaving her alone
with her thoughts and the sexy tunes of Paolo Nutini playing on the sound
system. The feel of the satin against her palms made her nipples tight and her
pussy wet, well that and the knowledge that she was going to fuck her handsome
captain that night. She was so hyped up that the simple act of applying
lipstick had her ready to orgasm.

Why was that? Marco wasn’t the most submissive or outrageous
lover she ever had. He wasn’t the most difficult either. But she did love his
expressions when he was presented with the new and unusual. His Adam’s apple
was so cute as it bobbed in his throat, and the way his eyes danced as he
worked out whether or not to comply with her orders always made her want to
smile.

When she had demanded he lick his cum from her skin, she
thought he’d bail. Most men assumed that the biggest tests their Masters made
them face were ones of pain and physical endurance when actuality it was those
of the mind that were the most difficult to pass. Those invisible lines men
didn’t know they drew in the sand until made to cross them fascinated her. One
second they dared you to come at them with a paddle but then turned into total
prudes the moment you asked them to taste their own cum.

Not Marco. After a moment of hesitation, he took to the task
with great enthusiasm and drive. There was no doubt he had intended to give her
the best orgasm of her life. And he succeeded.

“Get your head out of the clouds, Jaz,” she told her
reflection. “The be-all and end-all of men is not Marco DeWinter.”

She wasn’t a teenager with dreams of happily ever after.
Happy for now was more her speed. Success at her job, a man to play with, that
was all she needed. To want for anything more was just being greedy, not to
mention exhausting.

With a last look at her backside to ensure the lines of her
skirt fell to her liking, she left the dressing room and made her way to the
common areas of The Cavern. The place was like a second home to her, actually
more like her first home. She didn’t have to hide her naughty side, pretend she
was an asexual or submissive creature like she did in all other areas of her
life.

The other patrons she passed in the hall nodded in greeting
or murmured hellos. Here she was respected for just being herself, and the
freedom was a natural high.

The door to her dungeon was closed, but she knew Marco
waited on the other side. Jax reported his arrival fifteen minutes before their
scheduled appointment. Either the captain was anxious or he wanted more time to
explore her lair to gain knowledge. She suspected the answer was both.

Marco was naked and waiting on his knees as she entered. So
far he was responding well with his training and turning into an excellent sub.
Again she wondered what it was about him that made her temperature spike and
her fingers curl in anticipation of sinking her claws into his flesh. Sure, he
was handsome, but if one went purely by physical attributes, Army carried more
muscle and pretty-boy charm than Marco.

No, Marco’s appeal was that he was a wild card.
Devil-may-care on the outside, brooding and intense on the inside. He had the
ability to distract you with a charming smile or anecdote while rifling through
your personal history at the same time. Good thing he was one of the good guys.

“Good evening, Rookie,” she greeted and circled his kneeling
form a few times to enjoy him at several angles. She dug her fingers into his
thick hair and tugged. She was fond of his salt-and-pepper locks. Too many men
were losing their hair or shaving down to the skull. What was she supposed to
hold on to when a man ate her pussy?

She hugged him from behind, draping herself against his back
to whisper in his ear, “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed and scored light-pink lines across his
chest with her nails. “I missed your cock. I think it’s time we get better
acquainted. Stand up and lie on the table.”

As he rose, she saw him try to suppress a smile. He liked
the idea very much, too bad he had no idea what she had planned.

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