She sighed.
Garrett was damn glad he’d had a few years of experience at disguising sudden shock. He wrestled with a wash of the stuff now, especially because she joined that sound with a subtle buck of her hips. The move bypassed all the crap of this situation, speaking to him alone. Oh hell, how he loved that motion. It usually came on nights where she’d had a little to drink, a lot of foreplay, and was at the point where her body overrode her discretion. She became something different on those nights, a creature of raw need, begging him to fill her and fuck her.
But this was more than that—and it had taken this extreme situation for him to see it. The bizarreness of that recognition was overridden by the bigger truth of it. Only now could he see that the pain he’d dealt her had acted like a key in a lock for her, throwing open doors that had been shut inside her for so long. Too long. Now the portals were unbolted, setting free a creature he could have never imagined inside his woman, wild and aching and beautiful…
And needing.
Yes, Sage actually needed him now. Her circuit was tripped but not complete. She’d been opened but not detonated.
She needed more.
Garrett started the next stroke of the mitt between her shoulder blades. He didn’t end until he’d gotten to her ass, and then he raked the tacks across her suede whip tracks too.
This time, she screamed.
He gave her a moment to process the sensations. But only one.
He let the mitt slip from his hand before he kicked it out of the way on his surge to press against her. With primal need, he bracketed her hips with his. He was finished with not touching her, not connecting to her. He needed to feel her heartbeat, taste her sweat, smell her arousal, absorb her ultimate explosion of power.
That meant taking her over the edge.
He was damn glad he’d brought along the mini slapper.
The five-inch paddle, made of leather with little diamond cutouts, had been more of an accessory in the charade for King. But right now, even the ruse was secondary to giving this brave, bold, amazing woman what she needed the most—a release from herself. A release into him. Because of him.
Hell. He was really starting to understand why Z loved this shit so much.
He was on fire now, blazing with the need to rocket them both higher. His thighs coiled with it. His cock throbbed with it. He knew Sage felt it too. She tilted her head back against him, her neck arched in sensual splendor. Little rivers of her saliva dripped from the edges of her mouth, and he burned her skin with the false beard as he leaned in, licking the liquid off her chin.
“You taste so fucking good,” he growled. “And you’re gonna feel even better, aren’t you, with your body wrapped around my cock?” He punctuated that by sliding his hand over her throbbing mound. “You’re going to take me deep, little girl. You’re going to take every inch I give you, every inch I fuck you with. But first”—he brought the slapper around and positioned it over that wet, open apex—“you’re going to take this.”
Smack.
He brought the paddle down with unwavering force.
Sage crashed her hips back, letting out a long moan.
Garrett dipped his other hand between her thighs, plunging two fingers into her slick, sweet cunt. He locked them there as he lowered the slapper to her clit. He did it again. Her tunnel convulsed around him, heaving and kneading, sucking at his digits. The answering instinct in his senses flared hotter, and he filled her ear with the rough breaths of that awakening beast. All the while, he didn’t let his fingers slip from inside her. With a determined twist, he spread her more, letting her know just where he planned to go when he replaced his fingers with his dick.
She quivered around him. Gasped again.
He raised the paddle and dealt her two more smacks. With only a half beat in between, he gave her two more. Then a pair that were harder.
The only sound he got in return was his woman’s harsh, heaving breaths. But there wasn’t a single moan or mewl between the gasps. Beneath him, Sage was limp and pliant, completely abandoned to him, open and ready. Her channel continued stroking his fingers as if worshipping them, pulsing in the cadence of a sexual prayer chant. Please fuck me…please fuck me…please fuck me…
Yes. Oh damn, yes.
He hurled the slapper away. After pulling his fingers out of her pussy, he frantically loosened his belt and fly. Inside seconds, his cock had freedom at last. No, wait. In the seconds after that, it had freedom. Every inch he parted her folds and sank into her was another cloud his senses hit on the way to bliss. He could finally give it all back to her. The strength, the courage, the agony, the ecstasy. Everything. He soared as he pounded it all into her, fucking her with every inch of his sex, every drop of his sweat, every piece of his heart. That was just the beginning. He swore not to stop until his soul crashed the gates of hers, and she knew he planned to stay there forever.
“Deeper.” He drilled it at her as he dug his fingers into her hips. “All the way, girl. You’ll take every inch of it. Every drop of come it gives you.”
Behind him, there was a drone of conversation. Maybe it was more, as if the guards and even King himself were giving out verbal high fives. Garrett’s senses were too far gone to care. The surface of the lake outside could have gone up in flames and not rivaled the bonfire of his body.
He pumped even harder when the flames turned to lava, pooling heavily in his balls. He flattened his chest to Sage’s spine, allowing nothing between her and the cross except his hand, sliding to find the erect nub of her hottest desire. Her clit was hard and hot between his fingers. Amazing. She felt so fucking amazing.
Her whole body shook as he relentlessly rubbed the sensitive ridge. He didn’t stop until she started screaming again, her torment shrill, insane, and exquisite.
“Do it.” He gave the order into her ear as he tugged at her clit. He flicked just the tip with his thumb. “Do it now, girl. Now!”
Her orgasm was so intense, her scream ceased to make noise. Just fine by him. The tension translated all the way through her cunt, squeezing her walls on him, making it impossible to resist the fiery flood of his own eruption. Come raced up his cock, bursting from him with violent, radiant intensity. His ass clenched. His thighs quivered. A bellow tore off his lips.
“Fuck!”
The chitchat in the room stopped. Or maybe his blood thundered so loud it drowned every other decibel in the place. Whatever the explanation, Garrett descended back to reality on a parachute of comfort that took its time catching full air, especially when he looked to the guards—and their gapes still collectively fixed on his woman. And why the hell not? She was a wild, kinky dream incarnate. Her body was marked. Her pussy glowed. Her limbs were still spread and bound…
He was seriously going to kill someone tonight. Maybe a whole handful of the maggots, if they didn’t get back to their goddamn posts.
One of the goons laughed like he’d heard that thought and couldn’t wait to disprove it. He was just a kid, except for the depraved glint in his eyes. He handed his gun to the lackey next to him as he reached for his fly. “The slut is mine next.”
After two wide steps, Garrett had the fucker’s collar in his fist. “The merchandise is mine.” He barely remembered to keep up the fake moneybags accent. “Put the little wiener away, Drecksau, and do your fucking job.”