ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance (8 page)

Cory kisses me again, this time more firmly, his
tongue licking out to caress the soft, sensitive part in the middle of my top
lip. His hand slips into my hair, cupping the base of my neck, drawing me into
him. It’s as though something slots into place inside me. I feel peaceful while
he worships me with his mouth.

Sometimes, when the world feels like it’s against you
in the worst way imaginable, it sends you a balm to soothe the hurt. It might
be a big mistake, but kissing Cory is the sweetest error I’ve ever made.

11

ALLYSON

Cory's arms feel like a haven for me to escape to. I
snuggle against him, resting one hand over his fast-beating heart and the other
at his slim waist. I don’t have the will or strength to push him away or the
sense it seems to care about the possible repercussions. I let him control our
kiss as I practically melt against him. The cheesy romance idea that time can
stand still when you’re with someone you feel for is absolutely true. I don’t
know how long we stand there, reliving the kiss we shared at the restaurant but
with so much more passion it feels like no time and eternity all rolled into
one.

When Cory finally draws back he tips my chin up and
gazes into my eyes. I feel bare, as though he’s trying to look inside me. He's
a cop after all. That’s what he’s used to doing; trying to work out whether the
things a person says and does are the truth or a lie.

His expression softens and he looks like he's about to
ask me a question. I don't want to lie to him again, and if he asks me how I
feel about things now, I don’t know what I’d say. He’s pausing to check I’m
with him and that he hasn’t overstepped the mark.
 
Maybe he’s just a good guy or maybe it’s
because he thinks I’m sensitive at the moment because of my
friend
. Impulsively I stand on my
tiptoes and press my lips against his again, silencing whatever words were on
the tip of his tongue.

My arms tighten around him and his hands go straight
into my hair, gripping tightly again. This time, the kiss has a hotter edge;
there’s something exploratory and needy about his touch. The spark that has
lingered between us since he flagged me down, rages into an inferno that can't
be put out.

I trail my hands over his broad back, enjoying the
play of muscles that bunch beneath my fingers. I skim higher, gripping his
shoulders for support. Cory deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around me
possessively, crushing me to his chest with a groan, then his hands roam across
my back, down to my hips, squeezing. When he cups my ass and pulls me into him
I can feel how aroused he is and it sends my heartbeat racing. Cory’s so tall
and so big, all muscle and restrained strength. Although his squeezes are firm
there is nothing about his touch that is designed to hurt.

I think about Drew and how he liked to see the imprint
of his grabby fingers on the fleshy parts of my body. I hardly know Cory but I
trust him enough that I don’t fear where this is going. In fact, my whole body
is alight with heat and longing. Between my legs, I feel like everything is
swelling and throbbing. Our hands move over each other caressing, exploring,
frenzied.

The fantasy I had about him comes rushing back to me
as he pulls me in tighter to his body. His tongue strokes mine and a shiver
races through me. In my fantasy, he told me I was a bad girl. Standing in my
room wrapped around each other, breathless from the heated kiss, I feel like a
bad girl. Drew told me I was nothing. He would pass me around his friends,
that's how much he thought of me. He never cared about me, and the deep
insecurities I have, the ones that make me question if I'm worth caring about
flare.

There are tears burning behind my eyes again but these
have a different root. I’m so sick of never feeling good enough. I’m sick of
always wondering if whoever I’m with is going to tire of me and move on. And I
feel so damn stupid for still carrying around my childhood abandonment issues
and letting them affect me so badly.

I clutch onto Cory more, needing his strength. I tell
myself that this is all about pleasure. If I can just lose myself in him, I can
bury my troubles and anxieties for a while. I feel like a gambler chasing their
losses, knowing it’s foolish, but hoping that they are wrong. Maybe lady luck
will look kindly on me tonight. Maybe the universe is sending me Cory for a
reason.

I reach down to fumble with the front of his trousers
but get all tangled up in the belt thing he has on. He draws back and looks at
my hands, gripping my upper arms as though he’s torn between letting me get on
with it and stopping me too.

Maybe Cory isn’t as certain of what we are doing as I
thought.

“Allyson,” he says, and it sounds like a warning.

“What?” My voice is high pitched, frantic. I’m trying
to sound innocent but I’m not sure it comes across. I don’t want him to tell me
we’re going too far or too fast. My crumbling self-confidence is on the verge
of being stomped into the ground.

He looks me in the eyes, desire flashing in the depths
of his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asks in a voice that is so husky and low I can
barely make out the words.

I hesitate, bite my lip. My pussy throbs and I nod.
They say men are ruled by their dicks but they’re not the only ones who crave
sex enough to throw common sense out of the window.

Cory takes over, removing the thing he has around his
waist that houses all the equipment he needs to do his job. He turns to place
it on my nightstand and then pauses. My eyes search for what he’s looking at
and I spot the slightly open drawer and the glint of the handcuffs I have in
there. Neither of us moves for seconds that stretch long and thin like taffy. I
feel his hesitation. God, does he think I’m some kind of sexual deviant? I bet
he sees handcuffs as totally unsexy implements of law enforcement.

I’m waiting for him to say that he’s going to leave,
and the utter humiliation sends my cheeks flaming. Just as I’m about to tell
him he should go and save us both the embarrassment he steps forward and hooks
them out of the draw with his index finger.

His eyes glint with something I don’t understand.
Amusement? Desire?

“You an undercover officer, Allyson?”

My already pink cheek must now be the color of
beetroot.

I shake my head and hide my face in my hands.

When I feel his fingers on my wrist I think he’s
trying to pry my hands away so he can look at me. Then I hear the first clink
of the cuff and look up in shock.

"You like playing games?"

His eyes are filled with fire. I can't tell if he's
angry or turned on. Please let him be turned on. I glance at the floor. The
naughty fantasies I had about him flash through my mind, strobing images of us
naked, entwined, sweat soaked. My stomach flutters with anticipation and my
already wet pussy clenches its approval.

I nod once and wait. I want to know what he’s thinking
so badly. Is he angry with me? Misusing cuffs might be something he feels very
strongly about. Maybe he has a thing about consent. I’m sure he’s heard his
fair share of horrible stories. Restraints aren’t always placed on women for
their pleasure.

“I had a feeling about you, as soon as I saw you,”
Cory whispers. “You buzz with it, pushing and pushing with your sass mouth and
confidence. Under it all, you just want to be owned.”

I nod, still not looking him in the eye. I want to
know if desire flares there. I want to see his expression, but I can’t look.

"Put your hands behind your back," he says
coldly.

I feel a frisson of arousal run up my spine and across
my scalp. I hear the shaky breath escaping my lips as I comply.

My hands are trembling as he secures the cuffs, the
cool metal soothing against my wrists.

He stands behind me, so tall it feels as though he’s
looming. I love how powerful he is, how totally in control. The first touch of
his hand on me since he made me powerless is gentle. He brushes the hair from
my shoulder, stroking his finger down the column of my neck and over my
shoulder. It feels so tender yet strangely ominous. I have no idea what he’s
thinking or feeling. He puts his mouth close to my ear, hot breath gusting. I
think he’s going to kiss me there, but he murmurs words of reassurance instead.
“Any time you feel uncomfortable, just call me ‘officer’ and I’ll stop.”

I nod and exhale loudly. He’s safe, is all I can
think. Ninety-nine percent of me knew, but I’ve learned not to trust my gut
instincts over the past few months.

"Turn around."

I obey his gruff command and take a second to glance
up at him. The lust raging in his eyes is so potent I feel as though I can’t
breathe. There are words that are poised on the tip of my tongue, words that I
think will add to the scene we're playing. He told me he knew what I needed, so
I think I know what he’d want me to say and how he’d want me to act.

Like the dirty girl I am, in need of his punishment.

"Don't do this," I say biting my lip.

Desire flashes across his face as he descends on me.
His lips clasp mine in a heated kiss, hungrier and more devouring than any
we've shared so far. His tongue slips inside my mouth and strokes, pulling
shivers through my body. It’s like a jolt of pure electricity surges from every
point that is in contact with him, directly to my clit.

The need I feel is so powerful; to be filled, to be
owned, to give over my trust to someone in the hope that they will respect and
treasure it. Underneath it all is the visceral need to feel his utter surrender
to the pleasure I can give him. I want to see this strong man break apart.

He draws away, clutching me around the jaw. I moan in
despair wanting those lips on mine again. His gaze rakes over my body seemingly
seeing my t-shirt and shorts for the first time. He yanks the top over my head
and pulls it down until it rests above the handcuffs. The knot of fabric
tickles my back but I force that sensation away as he unsnaps my strapless bra
and lets it drop to my feet.

I want to snuggle closer to him, breathe in his scent
and feel his warmth, but that isn’t what this scene is about. When he bends his
head I take a step back.

My voice sounds tiny in the quiet of the room.
"No, don't do this."

Cory’s eyes blaze, but a grin appears on his lips. His
gaze is so hungry on my tits that it’s almost like a physical touch. My nipples
grow harder in the coolness of the room, drawing tighter in anticipation of the
first sensation of his hand or mouth on them. He raises a hand and I expect him
to cup my whole breast, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rests the tip of one finger
against my pointed nipple and presses hard.

Oh, god, it feels so good I almost fall to my knees.

Cory grabs my upper arm and holds me firmly while he
bends to suckle hard. I want to hold him to my breast, run my fingers through
his gorgeous, soft, dirty-blond hair, but I can’t.
 
The cuffs clank behind me as I tug with
frustration.

If he pulls away I can't stop him.

I'm at his mercy.

A sizzling sensation races through me again. I can
feel my pulse throbbing in my neck, behind my breast and in the tips of my
fingers. With every suckle, my pussy clenches. His tongue is so rough against
my sensitive skin that it almost hurts. I exist, in that moment, on the line
between pleasure and pain, and my mind empties of everything else.

He pulls away from me, his eyes on the nipple he has
sucked almost raw, then he twists it cruelly. It should feel bad. I know it
should, but I don’t seem to be built like other people. All I feel is
desperation for more. Anything that he will give me, I want, even if it hurts.

"You love this,” he says gruffly. “You want
it."

Imperceptibly I nod but I say, "No. Please
stop."

He doesn’t.

I haven’t called him ‘officer’.
 
I haven’t used the word he gave me that would
give me the freedom to end this whenever I want it to.

Instead, he tucks a finger underneath the waistband of
my shorts. He hooks my panties as well and pulls them and my shorts down my
legs, tapping my left calf. "Step out of them."

I do as he commands and stand before him naked,
vulnerable, helpless and quaking with an anticipation that I’ve never felt
before. Cory stands and simply drinks me in with his lust-filled eyes. For a
moment, I see softness there, as though this is more than just hardcore sex to
him, but then it’s gone and he’s back to mean.

When he steps closer to me I shiver, the heat of his
body seeping into my exposed skin a contrast to the cool room. He moves so
slowly that I have no idea what he’s going to do, but when his fingers brush my
thigh I know he’s going to touch me where I need him most.

His first touch is gentle, fingers stroking through
the soft dark hair, tugging on it possessively. I watch him extend a finger so
he can part my lips and gain access to the wet pink place between them. My
breathing is short and frantic as I wait for him to touch me. Everything is so
slow and teasing I want to cry out and beg for him to just do it. Touch my clit,
push your fingers up inside me until I come.

I need to come so badly.

His fingertip brushes my clit, enough that I can tell
it’s swollen and ready to be stimulated. I moan, loudly. I can’t help myself.

But he doesn’t like it. He reaches a hand around me and
slaps my ass hard.

I jerk forward, the sting of the slap a total
surprise. My eyes widen and he smiles. Before I can back away his other arm
comes around me to hold me in place. He slaps my ass again, harder.