Page 29 of Vicious Betrayal

"I don't work a regular nine-to-five. And I don't take personal time often, so if I want some time to myself today, I won't have any trouble getting it."

I move closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his hard, muscular warmth next to me. My hand brushes against something else hard, and Cormac chuckles, gently pushing it aside.

"I'm a little sore this morning, lass. I haven't fucked this much in a long time. Maybe we take this up a little later."

"In that case…" I stretch again, lazily, doing my best not to let the thoughts of what I'm really here for invade and ruin my momentary pleasure in this. "I'm pretty hungry."

"Give me a few minutes then, and we can shower and decide on something." He gets up after dropping a quick kiss on my temple, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Quickly, while he's in there, I grab my phone out of my clutch. Thankfully, it hasn't died.

I have a text.

It's from the number I've been told to watch for texts from. Update. What have you found?

I stare at it for a second, swallowing hard. I glance up to make sure the bathroom door is still closed and type quickly: It's only been one night. I tried looking around—nothing yet. It takes time to build trust. I'll have more soon.

I did look. That's the truth. If I got distracted during that, it's hardly my fault, exactly. And what Cormac and I did last night was a big step toward there being more trust between us.

I quickly lock the phone and shove it back into my clutch as I hear the sound of the door opening. He stands there, gorgeous and muscled, naked in the morning light, and runs a hand through his hair.

"So? How does a local spot I'd like to show you sound for breakfast?"

9

CORMAC

Ican't quite believe what I'm looking at. Oksana, naked and rumpled in my bed again, faint marks on her wrists still from ropes and marks everywhere else from the riding crop and my mouth. I fucked her twice last night. I came in her mouth. I came all over her. I did things with her that I haven't done with any woman in a long time… longer than I like to think about. It's been longer still since I brought a woman into my playroom.

She undoes me so completely that it's hard to think about. It's risky. No one should make my control so thin, not at this point in my life. But looking at her, all messy and sex-stained in the sunlight, I can't help but want her all over again.

"Sure." She shrugs. "Take me wherever you want."

Then she throws the sheets back, putting all of that utterly perfect body on display, and my cock goes rock-hard again.

The shower takes twice as long as I expected, because I can't keep myself from fucking her in it. I wasn't lying about my cock being sore, but I don't care once I have her under the hot water, wet and soapy and glistening for me. I wash the remnants of my cum from her skin, wash myself, and then promptly bend her forward and slide my hard cock into her, groaning as I fuck her hard and fast. She comes with my fingers on her clit and my cock buried inside her as I fill her up with my cum, and then I clean her up again before we get out and towel off. She didn't bring a change of clothes, so I give her one of my shirts, which is long enough to be a button-down shirtdress on her… barely, but close enough. She throws on her heels with a grin and follows me out to the motorcycle without a word of complaint.

She's down for anything, it seems like. Wearing my clothes, getting on my bike, fucking or sucking me whenever I get hard, letting me tie her up and do the most depraved things imaginable. I could have told her I wanted to fuck her ass last night and she'd have let me do it. She's God's gift to any man, and for some reason, she wants to be in my bed.

I can't quite fathom how this happened.

She gets onto the bike behind me, the shirt riding up to an almost indecent point on her thighs, and wraps her arms around me. When we get out of the neighborhood and onto a main road, she leans in and whispers "Faster," into my ear, over the engine.

"No." I shake my head.

"Coward." She laughs, and I take the bait. I'm not a careless man, but suddenly I find myself taking turns a little faster than I usually do. I feel her laugh against my back, the vibration of it more than the sound, swallowed by wind and the engine noise. It's a stupid thing to feel good about. I haven't ridden with someone on the back of this bike in longer than I want to think about, and I'd forgotten what that does to the whole experience. How good it is to have a woman's arms around my waist and her breath on my neck as we ride through the open air toward a good breakfast after a night of hard sex.

The diner is a little place called Joe's, even though I've never met anyone named Joe there since I've been coming here for breakfast or late-night dinners. The food is good and greasy, the coffee is great, and no one asks questions if I look a little banged up when I come in late at night. That's plenty for me.

The usual daytime waitress is here, a heavyset woman in a checkered apron named Deb, who is motherly and calls everyone hon, whether they're a teenage girl or a hardened mafia boss.

Oksana takes off her helmet as she gets off the bike and shakes her hair out. "It's perfect," she declares, and I eye her sideways.

"It's just a diner."

"It has a lot of personality." She shrugs. "And it's your place, right? Where you like to go?"

I nod, and don't say anything else. The idea that she cares about that is something that I don't want to think about too long, because it might make me start feeling things that will make this situation even more complicated than it already is.