Sinful Resurrection (CSA Case Files 2) (15 page)

Emily brought her left hand down to her mound and slowly parted her folds, even raising the skin up a bit to give him a nice view.  The action caused her to suck in a deep breath, as the air instantly hit her clit and caused even more swelling, if that were possible.  With her right hand, she placed her middle and ring finger onto the engorged flesh, not even needing to dip them in her cream.  The entire area was drenched in her arousal.

“Hmmmm,” Emily hummed, unable to contain herself.  The jolt of pleasure, in addition to having her clit so exposed, immediately affected her ability to keep her knees apart.  Seeing his raised eyebrow, she quickly widened them.  It had been so
long since she’d had an orgasm that a few more strokes were going to send her over.  “Sir, I’m ready.”

“No, you’re not.”  Jax’s tone broke no argument.  His own hand was now wrapped around his shaft.  “Keep going.”

The nerve at her inner thigh started to make itself known, shooting electric currents up through her pussy.  There was nothing for her entrance to grab onto and being so open only made it worse.  Forcing her fingers to keep rubbing the distended nub yet not cave in to the release was torture.  Her breath become shallow and her vision darkened.  She was going to come.  Now.

“Stop.”

Emily cried out, though her fingers instantly pulled away.  A throbbing took place of the sharp release that had been on the horizon.  Her skin felt like it had been exposed to chemicals, as the heat radiating behind her seemed to singe the light hairs that cover her flesh.  Could he not see how badly she needed release?

“Did I tell you to remove your left hand?  I want to see how swollen your clit is.  Open yourself,” Jax demanded.  With shaking fingers, Emily did as he instructed.  The exposure literally hurt and she wasn’t able to contain another plea.  “Pink.  I want it red.  Continue.”

Emily felt her breathing stutter as realization came crashing down around her.  This punishment wasn’t easy.  That was one denial.  How did he expect her to do eleven more?  How had he known she could stroke herself more?  How had he known when to tell her to stop?  As if they had a mind of their own, the fingers on her right hand returned.  The touch was agonizing, yet her body craved more.

“Slower this time.  Up and down,” Jax said in a throaty voice.  “Same pressure.”

His direct demands were like knives to her clit.  With each directive, they become sharper and her fingers only seemed to drive them home.  Emily deliberately moved her fingers up and down, drawing out the pleasure as he led her with his words.  The concentrated pleasure blossomed once more, encompassing her entire body and producing a floating sensation.  She was on the verge of release, knowing that one more swipe would send her over, when he commanded she stop.  It was excruciatingly frustrating and she found herself pleading.   

“Please, Sir.  I need to come.”

“What is one of the most important aspects of a Dominant/submissive relationship?” Jax asked.  He started to come back into focus as her body was given a slight reprieve.  She didn’t remove her left hand, knowing he wanted to see how swollen her clit had become.  Emily was too afraid to look down, knowing what she would see.  It had never been this engorged and suddenly, she was terrified of what it would feel like to finally splinter.  “Emily, I asked you a question.”

“Honesty.”  The word released from her throat with a strangle and she understood his need to continue on with her punishment.  Emily didn’t know how much her body could take, but she would finish this for him.  Had he held something back so vital from her, would she have been angry?  Yes.  Even as a submissive, she would have been hurt and livid had he lied to her.  “I’m ready to finish, Sir.”

“Good.”  Jax slowly pumped his fist over his cock.  She wanted what he held and was ready to do what needed to be done.  Her nipples still ached from when she’d pinched them, her thighs were drench from her cream, and her pussy had never felt so empty.  She needed him like the fire behind her needed oxygen.   “I want your clit bright red, Emily.  Show me you’ll take the punishment I see fit.  Continue.”

Chapter Seventeen

Jax had never seen anything so be
autiful in is life.  This woman kneeling in front of him, taking her punishment in grace and almost what he’d call gratitude.  His intention was not to force her to twelve orgasm denials, but one or two more wouldn’t hurt.  That she was willing to go to those lengths to satisfy him spoke volumes. 

His cock was like granite in his grip.  Jax’s flesh was stretched to the breaking point and the more Emily stroked her clit, the more he pumped his shaft.  She’d kept herself bare.  He’d never seen such a swollen nub, her need for him evident in the distended red flesh.  Emily’s eyes had glossed over and the corner of her eyes started to crinkle in that endearing way he loved so much. 

“Stop.”

The guttural groan that escaped her lips caressed his soul in a way that no other submissive’s cries ever had.  She tilted her head back, peering at him through her lashes.  Jax never would have thought lies could hurt as much as the ones she told, for whatever reason she thought was good enough.  It wasn’t.  He knew that she understood that now and from here on out, they had a new beginning.  Her resurrection had brought about an elevated level
to their connection.  Seeing her in this state of arousal, in such abandon, made him realize he couldn’t wait any longer to claim her.

“Lay on your back.”

Emily’s vision cleared.  He could see her hands and arms trembling as she comprehended his next instruction.  Her flesh glistened as a light perspiration coated her skin.  He didn’t like the blonde coloring of her hair.  In fact, he missed the warm chestnut color that used to glisten in the sun.  He studied her face as she started to lie down.  Jax didn’t perceive the relief he thought she would experience, but instead, a brief moment of terror crossed her stunning features. Jax waited until she was finally on her back before moving from the couch. 

“Grab your knees and hold yourself open for me,” Jax said, standing above her and waiting for her to comply.  It was then that he realized what she feared.  Her impending orgasm was going to be intense…earth shattering.  And that was how he wanted it.  She just didn’t know that it was coming sooner rather than later.  “I need to taste you.”

Jax squeezed the base of his shaft, doing his damnedest to see this scene through to the end.  When Emily was in position, with her fingers tightened on her knees and spreading herself open for him, he slowly lowered to the ground.  Her lips parted and her chest started to rapidly move. 

“I think it’s time that I take over and give you a break.  Do not come, Emily.”

Jax deliberately flattened his tongue against her entrance and slid it through her folds, up to her clit.  The ball of flesh was covered in her cream, which he licked clean, enjoying the spice of her flavor.  Once he was sure he got every crevice, he sealed his lips over the swollen nub.  Emily didn’t release her knees, although she did raise her hips.  He used his hands to hold her still.

“Sir!” Emily cried out as Jax sucked a little harder.  Extracting her clit a little more, he nursed until he felt every muscle in her body tighten.  Facing his palm up, he slid his middle finger into her warm entrance.  He loved how her moist tunnel tried to grip his digit and keep it inside of her.  The spasms were rippling and he could feel her try and ward off the impending release.  What she didn’t understand was that the more she tried to relax her muscles, the more accepting her body became to surrendering.  “I…I’m —”

“Come for me,” Jax murmured against her mound, knowing the exact moment that her body relinquished itself into his care.  A surge of dominance swept over him, hardening his dick to extreme proportions.  He needed inside of her.  Now.  He got to his knees and looked down at the beauty beneath him.  “Keep yourself just like that.  Open.  Accepting.”

If anything, Emily widened her knees even more.  In one thrust, Jax thrust himself balls deep inside her hot core.  Closing his eyes, he gasped for air.  Nothing had ever felt so…right.  Not moving, giving himself time to gather his bearings, he placed his arms on either side of her shoulders.  It gave him leverage as he drove his cock into her as if it were the last time he would ever have the privilege.  He opened his eyes and made sure to watch her face as she once again reached release, catapulting his.  Seeing those pretty crinkles made everything right again. 

With the strength he had left, Jax lowered himself to her side, holding her close.  Never again would he be separated from this beautiful creature.  Not by an assassin, nor a government official, and certainly not by an international organization.  She was his. 

* * * *

Ryland took his drink and snack from the flight attendant and dismissed her with a glance.  He wasn’t in the mood for toying with the woman and giving her what she obviously wanted.  He had more pressing matters at hand and anticipated he would get what he wanted in a matter of days.  Patience was one of his fortes and he needed to rely on that now.

He’d removed his jacket the moment the plane took off for Paris.  Ryland would use the eleven-hour flight to do additional research on Crest and this agency he’d started. 
Ryland found it odd that he couldn’t find a picture of one of Crest’s agents.  It should have been easily accessible.  He placed his drink and the small bag of pretzels on the other tray, grateful to have found that the other seat in first class would go unoccupied.  Unbuttoning the cuffs of his white dress shirt, he went over what he already knew.

Finding the information on Grace Emily and her only living relative had been easy, although they were making him work for his money by flying across the globe.  According to Beatrice Weisslich’s neighbors, she had grieved deeply when her niece had perished in a convenience store robbery.  Ryland had no doubt that Beatrice knew Grace Emily was alive and well.  Women were ruled by their emotions.  His target would not allow her elderly aunt to believe she’d lost her last relative.   It wasn’t a coincidence that Beatrice jetted off to Paris either.  Once he located her, it should be effortless to bring his target out of hiding and put an end to this assignment.

“Aren’t you going to eat those?”

Ryland turned his head to the other side of the aisle.  He’d noticed the boy earlier, but hoped that he would keep to himself.  It was obvious the child was traveling on his own.  Ryland spared a glance down the passage
way and saw that the flight attendant was busy with some mundane task.  He sighed and reached for the snack.

“They’re all yours
.”  Ryland tossed the bag over, watching with interest as the child opened it and pulled out a pretzel.  He didn’t look like he was malnourished, but maybe he’d skipped dinner.  The boy was no more than five feet tall but had an average build.  His dark hair was longer than Ryland would have thought a parent would allow.  It was obvious that he had music on his phone, as ear buds hung around his neck.  “You know, they serve us two meals during the flight.”

“My mom says I’m going through a growth spurt.”  The boy took a drink of his soda and then studied Ryland with dark inquisitive eyes.  “Thanks for the pretzels.  I’m Matt.  What’s your name?”

“How old are you, Matt?” Ryland asked, diverting the conversation back to him.  His name wasn’t something he shared with children.  “Ten?”

“Twelve,” Matt replied.  He pulled another pretzel out of the bag without looking away from Ryland.  “I’m going to see my dad.  He lives in Paris.  Do you?”

“No.” 

Ryland pulled out his cell phone with every intention of doing the research he needed.  He located the email from a contact who’d promised to deliver him the inf
ormation.  The man wasn’t cheap either, but well worth every penny.  

“Is that a new model or something?” Matt asked, pulling back Ryland’s attention.  The boy was looking at Ryland’s phone like he viewed a target through the
lens of his Leupold Mark 4 scope.  “It’s cool.”

“Something like that,” Ryland responded, keeping his answer vague.  Were all kids this inquisitive?  “It’s more like a prototype.”

“You must have a great job.  What do you do?”

Ryland could
button a man’s breast pocket at a thousand yards, yet somehow managed to walk right into the kid’s snare.  That fact was astonishing. 

“I’m…a messenger,” Ryland replied, smiling to himself at the comparison.

“Oh, you’re a minister or something,” Matt said with a nod, as if it all made sense to him.  “You’d need a good phone for your people to reach you.”

“You could say I lead people to their final resting place.”  Ryland was amused by this conversation.  Had he ever been so innocent?  Memories of his childhood surfaced, answering him instantly.  “Enjoy your pretzels.”

Matt smiled, plugged in his ear buds, and then sat back in his seat.  Ryland stared at the kid a little longer, thinking of the purity that would eventually be taken away.  It astounded him that society brought into the world such goodness, knowing it would be tarnished by reality.  People thought he was evil for doing a job quickly and efficiently.  They did it slowly and painfully…for recreation.  He could only shake his head at the hypocrisy of it all.  He took his drink and swallowed the only single malt brand they had on board.  Holding it up, he indicated to the flight attendant that he’d like another.  It was going to be a longer flight than he thought.