C10, PT. 4

In honor of the 3 day weekend in the U.S., here’s an extra post! 😍

She spread his shirt and clamped her mouth on his neck. He jerked and released a groan that made the space between her legs pulse. She wanted to hear more. She wanted him desperate. Panting and moaning, so far gone, he couldn’t hold back those sounds that made her fucking crazy. He was so proud of that hickey she’d given him in Denmark. She would give him one that he was going to have difficulty hiding.

He didn’t try to stop her. On the contrary, his fingers slid into her hair and held her to him as she branded him. For now, he was hers. Her husband. The only one who had ever encouraged her bad behavior. He urged her to break the mold and be herself. Now, she couldn’t go back to walking the straight and narrow. She didn’t want to. Fuck her sisters and what they thought of their relationship. Her sisters didn’t strive for love, but affection. They didn’t have fits of rage, just passing irritations. No high highs or low lows. Their lives were carefully constructed, controlled, contained. What was life without passion, desire, risk, and obsession?

For the first time in five years, she let herself go. Her mind wasn’t consumed with grief, mindless lust, revenge, or anger. She blocked everything out and focused on him. On his animal heat, his smooth skin, the ripples of muscle and scars. When she pushed off his coat, jacket, and shirt, she was vaguely aware of him setting his gun holster aside.

She made her way down his body, nibbling along his collar bone before tracing his pecs with her tongue and then licking his nipple. His chest expanded as all the air left his lungs. She applied pressure to one nipple while she laved the other with her mouth. He quivered and jerked. He wasn’t controlling his reactions to her, he was reacting on pure impulse, and she fed off it. Sounds of male appreciation filled the room as she loved on him.

When her mouth left his chest and moved down his ridged abdomen, his breathing stalled. She knelt between his spread thighs and undid his belt, but didn’t ease his zipper down to give him relief. Instead, she took her time tracing his six-pack and hummed in approval when he leaned back on his hands so she could explore to her heart’s content. As she worked her way down, she ran her hands up his thick thighs and rubbed her thumbs on either side of his bulge.

“Jasmine.”

She hummed against his skin. “Yes, baby?”

“A man can only take so much,” he warned.

“But you’re not just any man, are you?” The full moon played peek-a-boo with wispy clouds, casting half of his face in shadow. “You can take more, can’t you, baby?”

To fuck with him, she kissed him over his straining zipper. He bit out a vicious curse before he dropped his head back in wordless surrender.

“Good boy,” she cooed.

He went rigid. “Call me a good boy again, your time’s up, and I’m fucking you on all fours until you scream.”

Not much of a threat when she was dripping, but she wasn’t done torturing him. She carefully pulled his zipper down and grinned when he lifted his ass so she could slide his slacks and boxer briefs off. His pants caught on the ankle holster on his right leg. He swiftly unstrapped it, toed his shoes off and tossed his clothes, including his socks, aside. She paused to take him in. Reclined on the bed, bathed in moody moonlight, he looked like a warrior of old. Virile, battle-scarred, uninhibited, wicked. The fact that she was dressed in layers while he was stark naked made her skin itch. She wanted to shrug off her coat and whip her slip of a dress over her head, but if he had to endure, so did she. They would both win in the end.

“What should I call you?” she asked in a low, throaty tone as she ran her hands over his hot flesh.

“You know what I like.” He jerked like a virgin when she closed her hands around his pulsing cock. “Ugh, fuck.”

She licked the tip of his dick, and wasn’t surprised it was slick with precum. “You like baby.” His legs shifted restlessly as her tongue lapped absently. “You like Jamie.”

His hand sank into her hair, gripping with enough force that she looked up to find him sitting up, which was a testament to his core strength.

“Again.”

For a second, she wasn’t sure whether he was talking about the name or continuing to pay homage to his dick, but she rolled the dice. “Jamie.”

The hand in her hair went to her chin and angled it toward the silver moonlight. His thumb swiped over her bottom lip, pushing the sticky precum into her mouth. When her tongue made a sweep to make sure she got it all, his stark expression softened slightly.

“Yes, in our bedroom, you call me Jamie,” he murmured and then added, “or wherever we fuck.”

“And baby?”

His fingers flexed on her face before they dropped away. “You call me that whenever you want.”

“Just not boy,” she teased.

“I’m not a boy. Been a man since I was seven when I made my first kill. You call me husband, your man, never a boy.”

“Okay, baby,” she said and took him in her mouth.

He shouted her name, which went to her head like a shot of tequila. He dropped back on the bed and surrendered completely to her. Muscles flexed as he stopped himself from reaching for her, obeying the unspoken rule to keep his hands to himself. She was mesmerized by the sight of him writhing, hands twisting in the bedsheets, and the way his skin gleamed as he perspired. He responded so beautifully to her. Eager, willing, unashamed. Her dream man. He’d never demonstrated such restraint. She rewarded him, worshipping him as she hadn’t done since the early days of their first marriage. When he was close to coming, she took her mouth away and moved her hands to his taut thighs. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing when he pressed his fists to his face and swore.

“How much do you want me?” she purred.

“You know,” he snarled.

“I do?”

“Want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he spat. “Sacrificed all I had just to taste you.”

He sounded pissed. She placed a chaste kiss on his knee. He jolted like he’d been shot.

“Are you done fucking with me?”

“I’m loving on you,” she said in a mock hurt tone as she dragged her fingers over slippery abs and took a wide berth around his jutting cock before she brushed her thumb over his inner thigh, knowing very well it was anything but soothing to him. “You know, the way you do to me.”

“Tell me what you want,” he said through clenched teeth. “And I’ll give it to you.”

“I want you mindless for me,” she declared as she got to her feet and rolled her tight dress up as she climbed on top of him. As she settled on his rock-hard dick, his hands pushed aside her coat to grip her hips. “I want you screaming my name.”

“I shouted your fucking name twice,” he growled.

“That’s a good start, baby,” she said as she began to move.

She heard his teeth click as he clenched them together. His hands flexed on her hips hard enough to control her range of motion, but she wasn’t going for wild bouncing, just a subtle back and forth that she knew was going to drive him out of his mind.

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

Copyright © 2024 Mia Knight. All Rights Reserved.

Inspirational images attached for this scene ;) Thank you all for posting images in the chat!!