My thighs quivered as I sunk two fingers in my pussy and curled them deeper. I couldn’t believe this was Danner I was listening to, that the gentleman cop could get off on something so goddamn dirty.
I fucking loved it.
I listened with him to the man play with his woman, to the way he ordered her around in cool, commanding tones that brokered no argument and the way the woman got off on it, screaming as he ate her out and begging for his cock on her tongue and his cum in her mouth.
I was begging too, under my breath, begging for the same things from Danner.
When the climax happened on screen, it triggered my own. I came hard on my hand, soaking my palm and the inside of my thighs.
I groaned, “Thank you, Danner,” as I came just as the woman in the video thanked her Dom.
Just as the man said, “You take my fucking cum.”
And Danner did too, only he said, “Fuck yeah, take my fucking cum, Harleigh Rose.”
I gasped loudly and the glass I’d been holding up against the wall slid from my listless fingers, falling to the floor with a discernable crash.
“Fuck,” I said before I could help it, clasping my hands over my mouth, the fingers of one tacky with my juices.
“What the fuck?” Danner growled from the other room and then, before I could pull my panties back on over my swollen sex or pretend I’d been doing anything other than spying on him, the door to the bedroom swung open and he was there, growling low in his throat, his eyes tropical green with hot anger.
I watched his nostrils flare as he took in the sex sweet air in the room, as his anger grew darker and turned into something else, something I wasn’t sure I should be terrified of.
“You fucking spying on me?” he demanded.
I swallowed thickly and dropped my hands, my own come smearing slightly on my lips. Unconsciously, I licked them and watched Danner’s jaw clench tight.
“Yeah,” he drawled as he stalked towards me and I wasn’t sure if he was going to strangle me or kiss me. “Fuck yeah, you were.”
“I,” I tried explaining, frantically digging into my reserves of sass and wit for anything to throw at him and stop his slow prowl across the room. “You shouldn’t have been so obvious about it.”
It didn’t seem possible, but his expression burned with rage then blackened into something utterly wicked. He reached me, his arm snapping out to tug at one of my ankles so I went sprawling onto my back on the bed. Before I could recover, he sat on the bed and yanked my body belly down across his lap.
“You wanted me to catch you, didn’t you?” he asked in a voice like fire and brimstone as he held my squirming form across his knees with an iron forearm banded across my back. “You wanted me to see what a dirty girl you’ve become.”
“Oh God,” I groaned, my thighs so wet with cum they slid together with an audible slosh.
I didn’t know what was happening and at the same time that I did.
I was seventeen and even though I was a virgin for reasons that neither Cricket or I understood, I’d done oral and all that other stuff. I thought I knew enough about sex to take whatever was happening in stride.
I didn’t.
Not even close.
“Fine, you want me to treat you like a responsible woman and not a little brat?” he asked as one hand, the one not holding me down, smoothed up one leg and over my ass, dragging my tee with it so my bare skin was exposed to his gaze.
Heat scorched through me, sexual enough to incinerate my inhibitions and shamed enough to find anger in the swirling vortex of fire in my belly.
“Fuck you, Danner. You wouldn’t have the guts to hit me, you pussy!”
“Ah,” he clucked his tone, his voice cold and mechanical as if from a machine even though his hand was hot and human against my butt cheek as it squeezed and soothed. “You don’t seem to understand how much power is in a pussy. If you knew, you’d never use it as an insult. If you knew how fucking furious it makes me to want you when I can’t have you because you’re too young, too wrong and too wild for me to tame. But Rosie, if you knew how I wanted to tame you, stroke your pussy with my fingers, my tongue and my cock, watch you beg at first then break open for my touch, for my permission to come. If you had any fucking inkling of that, you wouldn’t call me a pussy when you think I’m being weak.”
I was panting, confused and aroused and so angry I felt made of fire, in danger of turning to smoke and blowing away the second his hands stopped kindling my flames.