Undercover Lover (29 page)

“Christ.” Günter breathed the word and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think we should fly this one blind.”

“I’ll get this—whatever it is,” Simon held up the drive, “to 5. I know where you’re headed. I’ll get backup in case anything goes down.”

“They just want to talk you think?” Günter rubbed at the back of his neck and tilted his head to look at Simon.

“Couldn’t really say on this one, Gun.”

“Okay. Fine. Do what you have to do,” Günter agreed.

Simon nodded and started to walk away.

“But, Simon?”

Günter’s second turned back.

“Be discreet. I don’t want to blow this whole thing with party lights and trigger-happy cops.”

A thumbs-up signaled Simon’s understanding, and Jenny watched his retreating back with an eerie feeling—as if she’d never lay eyes on him again.

Günter turned to her and she looked up.

“Ready for your closeup?” he asked.

“I thought we didn’t have time…”

He flicked his gaze from her to their hotel room door. “I think we need the distraction, and in case we were seen leaving Munson’s hotel together we need to make my catching you believable.”

Wide-eyed, heart pounding, she swallowed hard.

“Unless you don’t want to…” he offered, expression darkening with concern as he searched her face.

Oh, she wanted to…

“Please,” was all she said.

“Do better than that, sunshine, or I’m not touching you.” He stepped in closer.

“Please let them watch you…and me.”

He inhaled through his nostrils.

“It’s going to be harsh,” he said.

“Please.” This time the word came out on a whimper.

Quick as a snake, he grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hallway with him.

Twisting away, she made it halfway down the hall before he caught her and threw her over his shoulder. A little scream escaped her and he slapped her bottom. Hard.

“My brother will have your ass in a sling,” she yelled, playing the incensed prima donna as he opened the door.

“The only ass going into a sling tonight, sweetheart, is yours.”

He threw her into a chair and unbuckled his belt. She stared up at him, more than a little in awe of how he towered above her.

Gaze thunderous, jaw working as if he chewed glass, he said, “Someday you’re going to push me too far. I can’t believe you fucked that ape.”

“You’re not my keeper.” She shook the curls out of her eyes. “I employ you. I can fuck whomever I please.”

The statement held echoes of their argument several weeks back. His eyes darkened. A little gasp escaped her lips when he yanked her from the chair and wound his hand in her hair.

Pulling her head back, he asked, “What did I say to you earlier tonight?”

“You said to stay in the room while you went out to jack off with your bottom boy.”

The snarl on his face seemed so sincere, she struggled to get out of his grasp even as adrenaline kicked her arousal into high gear. Lust pooled in her groin and hardened her nipples until they ached against the confinement of her bra.

He knew she liked it rough. Wanted it just like this. When he glanced over his shoulder, she knew he looked for their angle vis-à-vis the surveillance equipment in the room. He might be sincerely angry with her for her disobedience, but this was still a game. He’d never play at hurting her unless he knew she enjoyed the scare. She’d asked him for this.

What would he do? How would he do it? Those unknowns didn’t frighten so much as excite her, because anything he did to her body right now had to feel oh so good.

“You enjoy making me punish you,” he said, cruel lips curling as he gave her a little shake. “Don’t you?”

A sharp inhale stung her nostrils as the game took on a surreal quality. Her body craved the danger even as her mind scrambled to find a way to placate her master.

“Answer me,” he said with a low growl, and then whispered, nuzzling her ear, “If you say
no
, we continue.”

The choice surprised her and her head cleared. She really did have a say in this. He’d never take that away from her. A burst of giddy happiness filled her chest.

Etching defiance into her gaze, she tossed her head back to meet his eyes and invited him to do his worst. “No. I enjoy making you work for a living.”

“Someday,” he said, grabbing both her wrists and pinning them to the small of her back, “you’re going to regret that smart mouth of yours.”

So you keep telling me
, she wanted to say to goad him into madness, but she knew their little play called for something more convincing for their audience. So, instead, she fought. Twisting around, she brought a bare foot against his shin and tried to break free of his grip. When that didn’t work, she tried screaming, but he captured her mouth and smothered the sound with a grinding kiss.

A rending tear signaled she’d damaged his jacket, and she froze like a scared rabbit, her mind comprehending what this meant for their game. The set of his jaw told her he’d gone as deep as she when he spun her around to face the mirror above the fireplace and shredded the fabric of her dress down the front—pulling both it and her jacket off in one yank.

“You bastard.” She gasped for air and renewed her manufactured struggles.

With each moment that passed, their game became more real to her. Liquid heat soaked her pussy as she thrust her ass hard against his cock, desperate to free herself so she could run… So he could chase her… So he could take her down.

Sweat slicked his palms and his hand slipped from her wrist. She brought back her elbow and delivered a blow to his solar plexus that left him gasping while she ran to the bedroom. Knowing if she reached it before him she’d have to lock the door and wait out their evening alone, she tripped deliberately and fell to her knees on a blood-red area rug. Just as she scrambled to her feet, he was upon her, pulling her by her hair and throwing her face first over the back of a settee.

She kicked back with her legs, but he grabbed her by the ankles and looped the shredded fabric of her dress around them to bind them together. Twisting, she attempted to right herself, but he pressed down until she whimpered beneath him. He lessened the pressure but didn’t change his position.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he raised her head so she had to look him in the eye. Color mottled his cheeks, sparks of primal energy danced in his eyes. Blood dribbled from his lip where she’d raked him with a nail, and his hair swayed in a curtain around his face.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said. “And you’re going to like it.”

Breath harsh in her ear, he fumbled between them until he found the tear he’d created in what remained of her dress. With a twist of his fingers, he jerked the fabric from her. Cool air met her heated flesh when he stood to deliver a series of ferocious spanks to her exposed backside.

Jenny bent her legs at the knees in a halfhearted attempt to block the stinging punishment. Heat flooded her pussy with pleasure as each jolting blow lifted her cheeks in what she knew amounted to a jiggling, libidinous display. A particularly solid smack made her bolt upward, only to find Günter’s hand pressing her down.

She sobbed something incoherent into a raw silk throw pillow. He paused to massage her sore flesh and she sighed, glad for a momentary respite as tears flowed freely—a welcome release she could have kissed him for giving her.

The sound of his zipper brought her back to the moment and she surged upright, managing a toppling flight that unwound the dress fabric from her feet and had him grabbing at her in surprise.

He jerked her to him before raising his other hand to her throat in a caress she knew looked lethal for all its gentleness. She swallowed against his palm and held his gaze as she took in oxygen with nostril-flaring breaths.

“Don’t,” she pleaded with a shake of her head, playing the part and begging him with her eyes not to believe a word she said.

“Don’t?” he asked, backing her up with a tiny increase of the pressure of his hand along her jaw. “Don’t?”

“Don’t,” she sobbed, and had no trouble summoning the cleansing tears she knew were required at such a moment.

He lowered his mouth to her ear and tilted her neck to one side with the pressure of his thumb.

“Say
don’t please
and it stops,” he breathed before nipping her fleshy lobe and throwing her over the arm of the couch. Louder, he said, “You should have thought about
don’t
long before this, doll.”

Jenny had no time or energy to struggle before he gripped her hips and teased her wetness with the head of his cock. Finding her obviously ready he plunged into her—filling and stretching her in one glorious stroke that lifted her off her toes and sent her slamming forward. Screaming in pleasure, she dug her fingers into the sofa cushion in a vain attempt to keep herself from sliding out of his grasp. His fingers adjusted around her hips, gripping tight enough to leave marks.

Cushions tumbled off the sofa and pillows followed in their wake as Günter’s pace pushed her to the brink of orgasm—his cock filling her and retreating with a speed that sent shock waves through her clenching sheath. Knowing she’d never be able to hold back the cries of pleasure building within her chest, she scrabbled for something—anything—to gain purchase against and, finding the top of the wooden sofa frame, she pulled. He lost his hold and she twisted away to land on her belly on the floor.

Grabbing her ankle, he hauled her to him. She screamed and kicked back with her other foot, the too-fleshy thump and his startled grunt telling her she’d come very close to his groin.

He froze and everything in her went still. So still she hardly dared breathe. Such an action surely called for serious retribution, and she wondered if perhaps she’d pushed their game too far, to a point past which their play was believable. She knew his mind scrambled for an appropriate response, and she relished the fear-laced adrenaline as it melded with the arousal low in her belly.

They’d paused for perhaps two seconds, but to her the suspended moment equaled an eternity. He grasped both her feet in a vise-like grip and flipped her over. She landed hard enough to take her breath away. And then he was on her. In her. Filling her with a thrust that sent them both sliding backward along the polished wood floor. Adjusting, he held on to her throat with one wide palm and brought the other to her shoulder to render her immobile.

Wide-eyed, she stared up at him. The pressure of his hand increased with each thrust and decreased with his withdrawal, creating a primitive form of breath play that had her gasping for both oxygen and release.

Sinister. Menacing. Nothing like her sun-soaked god, he presented the perfect picture of her darkest desires and wildest dreams as he held her immobile and pounded into her body.

Dipping his head, he bit her engorged nipple through her bra and she cried out. Sensation pooled in her pleasure points and ran together to form a lake of need in which she’d gladly drown. The next bump of his root against her clit poised her high on a precipice and she looked into deep-blue waters, prepared to jump.

Günter’s hand spasmed around her throat, cutting off her air for the briefest of seconds and she came apart in a series of shuddering sparks that should have set the room ablaze. Releasing her throat, he pushed into her, awakening aftershocks that built into another release she was breathless to voice, even with his hand no longer helping to hold back her cries.

His spine straightened and he arched, burying himself in her as he came with a drawn-out war cry that left her feeling every inch a woman and very much claimed. He fell over her then, only for a moment, and she resisted the urge to clasp him to her. As he withdrew, she turned her head away, prepared to play the injured lover, but he grabbed her chin and brought her ear to his lips.

“I love you. Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispered, before pushing up and walking away.

He’d said he loved her.

Brushing the sex snarls from her hair, Jenny paused mid-stroke as Günter emerged from the bath. White towel wrapped tightly around his hips. Catching her stare, he arched a brow, and her gaze skittered away. She’d spent the last half hour trying to dissect and make sense of three little words.

I love you.

Maybe he meant he was sorry for their rough play. Or it was a coded compliment to tell her she played her part perfectly. He couldn’t actually mean he loved her, loved her. Could he? What if he was just getting his
gangsta
on and giving her a mind a fuck along with her body? She shook her head. He’d never do that… Would he?

Disgusted with her ability to pick the subject to death, she groaned and threw her lipstick tube to the vanity. Günter placed his hands on her shoulders and she jumped at the unexpected contact. Warm and light, his touch reassured while his gaze asked,
All right?

Wishing she could ask a zillion questions, Jenny just nodded and went back to reapplying her makeup.

Günter’s hands dropped away and she watched him walk to the bed and lift his newly pressed trousers from the hanger. What else could he do? What else could he say? Nothing. Not under the present circumstances. Still, she wished he’d tried harder.