In Too Deep: A Romantic Suspense Novel (26 page)

Now, though, I could feel Mark's tongue licking my wet folds lightly, just barely parting my outer lips to expose the reddish pink inner jewel hidden inside. He licked me from my clit all the way down to the entrance to my tunnel, gathering the nectar inside before repeating the motion. "MMmmmm, delicious," he muttered as his tongue stiffened and he began to literally tongue fuck me, reaching deep inside my body with each stabbing thrust. When I was almost delirious with pleasure, he stopped, sucking my lips and rolling them between his own, carefully keeping his teeth from my sensitive skin. "I should do this more often."

Pulling his lips back, I felt Mark's fingers pull my lips apart, teasing my clit from its hood. I trembled as the cool night air played with his breath on my fiery button, until I was ready to beg for him to end my anticipation. Before I could speak, though, the narrow tip of his tongue flicked over my clit, sending lightning coursing through my body. With every quick, feather light lick, the breath was driven out of me, until black dots swam in my vision. I pushed Mark's head back for just a moment to take a deep breath before pulling him back in, wrapping my legs around his head. "Don't stop, please."

Mark's licks took on a different quality, with long, broad sweeps, each sweep raising the temperature of my body while still allowing me to breathe. Within just a minute or two, I was on fire, and my juices flowed like water down my inner thighs. Mark pulled back, and smiled, his teeth white in the moonlight, his skin shining with my juices. "Beg for it."

Growling in frustration, I squirmed on the bed, trying not to be reduced to a begging, pleading, wanton slut for him again. It didn't matter though, and we both knew it. No matter how hard I tried to resist, the sparkle in his eyes and the feeling of his touch on my skin drove away all resistance from me, and I would do anything he asked. Coming straight from sleep and as aroused as I was, I didn't resist long. "Please Mark, please make me cum."

"Yes my little
hime
," he said, lowering his head again. He had started calling me his
hime
two weeks prior, and no matter how often I asked, he wouldn't tell me what it meant. I didn't have a chance to think about it more though as he resumed his flickering, light licks around my clit, circling and flicking until the tension built within me, like an over-tightened clock spring.

I was reduced to incoherent begging, my breath coming in deep gasps when Mark slid two fingers inside me, while at the same time just barely letting his teeth scape over my clit. The spring inside me broke, uncoiling a climax through my body that left my thighs shaking, and my feet drumming across the broad muscles of Mark's back. He took it all without a single complaint, lifting his head when my body had finally settled back. "That was wonderful, but I need more."

Barely giving me a chance to draw a breath, Mark took my right leg and turned me over, pulling my hips up into the air. Doggy style was his favorite position, and I felt my breath driven out of me again as his thick cock slid deep inside me. Despite the amount of lubrication my body had produced, I was still tight, his cock was so much thicker than his tongue or his two fingers, and I felt stretched almost to the point of pain as he pushed in without stopping until I could feel his hips settle against my ass. "You've got a great ass," Mark teased as he pulled back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside me. "I think next time I'm going to fuck it until we both come."

I had told him about my fantasy of anal, but my trepidation of having never experienced that. Mark had taken it all in stride, sometimes teasing me but never in ill will, instead using his almost uncanny sense of mental states to relax me to the idea. "Just go slow," I said, feeling a knot of fear unknot itself in my chest. I had never given him such explicit permission before. "And let me get some lube?"

"Another time then," Mark whispered, running his hands over my hips. He pushed in again as he did, and soon both of us were left breathless as he thrust in and out, his huge cock filling me over and over.

I hadn't expected him to last long. Most of my other lovers, after licking me to orgasm, always wanted to just get in and come as soon as they could. Mark instead kept his pace controlled, a tight reign on his pleasure as he let my body recover and build again. When I started pushing back into him, my forehead buried on the pillow and my breasts swaying with every thrust, he sped up. I could feel tears or sweat trickling down my cheeks as he drove us both higher and higher. My nipples were scraping over the light cotton of the bed sheet, adding to the pleasure I was feeling.

The sensation of him pounding me left me senseless, crying out into the pillow as I sped toward my second orgasm. Mark picked up his rhythm, his hips slapping against my wet skin until, with a harsh grunt, he drove his hips as hard as he could into me. He sent me crashing into another orgasm. I clamped down around his cock, not letting him go. I pulled hard on the bed sheets, and I could hear with what little was left of my mind the hard purring sound of them ripping, I was yanking so hard. With a final cry, I pitched forward, his cock pulling out of me, and I collapsed into the pillow.

W
e didn't get
up until ten o'clock the next morning. It was a Saturday, and Sophie didn't have a shift at the ER, which I was grateful for. With the unexpected luxury of the long morning, we both slept in, and I woke up with Sophie's leg draped over mine. It took me sixteen minutes to extract myself without waking her up, but the results were worth it, as I surprised her in bed with a quick brunch of scrambled eggs, some breakfast sausages, and some leftover potato hash I'd made for myself two nights before. "My my, wonderful midnight sex and then brunch in bed," she said, her smile angelic even after she pulled a spare t-shirt over her head. "Not too many women are as lucky as I am."

"No woman is as lucky as you are," I teased back. By this point in our relationship, we could tease each other easily without worry of the other getting offended, although Sophie did say she thought I was always quietly self-confident, which I liked. "So what would you like to do after your brunch? By the way, when do you go into the Shamrock tonight?"

"I start at six, so I'd like to leave around five, take my time getting there," Sophie replied. I watched, entranced as she daintily scooped a forkful of eggs and sausage into her mouth. It was just another of the things I found cute about her. I knew where she got it from, fighting her weight down during her undergraduate years. Taking small bites and chewing completely is an old trick in losing weight. "Also, I was wondering if you'd like to come by tonight."

"Really?" I said, surprised. "I thought you said I'd be too distracting coming around the Shamrock while you're working."

"Well, that's true," Sophie replied, blushing a bit while cutting through some sausage with her fork. "But Tabby has been insisting on meeting you, and I thought this would be a good chance for you two to meet. The Shamrock is a lively place, safe, and I can keep an eye on her. If I don't, she's more than likely going to hit on you."

"I thought you said she was your friend," I joked in return. "I mean, unless you're into that sort of thing. I'm not particularly. If I'm in a relationship, and at this point I think that's what we are, right?"

"Is that what this is? A real relationship?" Sophie asked quietly, setting her plate aside. It was one of her traits that still sometimes threw me off guard. I'd never had a girlfriend before who I couldn't keep totally enthralled with my body and my intellect. Sophie, on the hand, for all of her surface level shyness and uncertainty, had a deep reservoir of self-composure and strength that she could call upon. Maybe that was why, after a whole month, I was still seeing her. It was the longest relationship of my life so far. "Am I really important to you?"

I thought about how best to frame this answer. I could tell it was important, and I had to make sure I said things in exactly the right way. "Sophie, I've let you further into my life than I have any other woman," I began, sitting down on the bed next to her. "I think about you every day, and when you call me, it makes me smile, no matter what else is going on. My condo feels empty when you're not around, and I wake up every morning wanting to hear your soft breathing next to me. So yes, to me this is real. If it was just a fling or a booty call, I'd have ended it a long time ago. What about you?"

Before Sophie could answer, my front doorbell rang, startling me. My building had one of those systems where you had to buzz someone in, and any of the few neighbors who came around to my place would normally either call first or knock. Almost nobody used the doorbell. "Maybe a delivery?" I said, as the bell rang again. "Let me go check, hold that thought."

I made my way down the hallway, stopping only before I got to the door to pull on my leather jacket over my bare chest. On the inside of the sleeves I could feel the comforting weight of my two home defense knives tucked into the hidden sheaths sewn into the upper halves. I had tried on the inside of the arm, but the weight just didn't work. If I needed to have something on the inside of my arms, I preferred a strap on sheath.

I made a simple mistake at that point, opening the door without checking my peephole. I don't know why, that was very unlike me. Sophie had me off my game, perhaps I was distracted by the sound of her getting out of bed, and I knew she'd be pulling on some pajama bottoms. Instead, I opened the door. I was halfway to my left sleeve to pull my knife when the two men held up their hands, showing they were currently unarmed. "How are you doing, Snowman?"

Louis The Frog wasn't French, as best I could tell. And at five nine and barely breaking a hundred and fifty pounds, with dusky skin, brown hair and blue eyes, he didn't look like a frog either. Still, he was the top lieutenant to Salvatore Giordano, my main employer. With him was a man I didn't know, but I could be assured was reasonably well trained. "I was doing a lot better about thirty seconds ago, Louis. How'd you find this address?"

"It's amazing what you can find on the Internet, Snowman. Like, how that stealth electric car of yours, while it's not registered to this address, well, it just happens to keep getting quick charges done at stations that have credit card receipts that do match this address. May we come in?"

I really couldn't say no. If I had, Louis would have accepted it with grace, but I know I would be getting a call from Sal Giordano himself later. "Okay, but keep it short, if you don't mind. I have company over."

"Ah, the beautiful Miss White. I must say, you have excellent taste in young women." Louis came in, ignoring the fact that my blood was running cold. They'd obviously been keeping tabs on me, I should've known. Still, I had a chance to detect the automatic slung underneath Louis' companion's coat. From the impression I could see, I was thinking a Colt 1911, most likely in .45 caliber. Definitely a lot of gun for a
friendly
visit. "Does she know what you do for a living?"

"He's a freelance troubleshooter," Sophie said, coming into the living room. She had pulled her hair back, and while she was still wearing the t-shirt she had pulled on in bed, she had also put on a loose pair of sweatpants that I had gotten for her when I noticed she found my air conditioning a bit cold for her liking. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing at all," Louis replied, giving her a predatory smile. Then again, every look that Louis had was predatory. I'm pretty sure he even gave his mother a predatory goodnight kiss when he was a child. "And you're right, Mr. Snow is a freelance troubleshooter for the group I work for. In fact, I was coming by to see if he was available for another job, but seeing as he has such lovely company, I think it'll keep until Monday. I'm sorry to have disturbed your Saturday morning Miss.....?"

"Sophie White," Sophie replied, and I inwardly winced. Louis hadn't said her first name before, I was hoping they didn't know. Either way, they did now, obviously. "Mister....?"

"Lefort. I should be going. Again, sorry to have disturbed your weekend. Mark, we'll be in touch when you have some free time, okay?"

Louis and his man left, closing the door behind them. It wasn't until I could latch and lock the door that I realized I had been holding my breath for almost a minute. Turning around, I saw Sophie standing behind the sofa, her arms crossed under her breasts. While normally a very attractive sight, the look on her face was dark and suspicious. "Who was that?"

"Like Louis said, just a business associate. Why?"

Sophie rolled her eyes and looked at me, and I could tell that she was getting angry. "You can stop lying to me now. I've never seen you upset or even rattled, until those two men showed up at your door. Now what the hell is going on?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to end the conversation. "I just was surprised, that's all. I'd been looking forward to an easy weekend."

Instead of replying, Sophie turned on her heel and stormed back to the bedroom. Before I could even get my jacket off, I heard her yanking open drawers, and the familiar sound of clothes being tossed into a bag. I rushed back to find Sophie jamming her t-shirts into a bag that she had used to bring some things over to my place. "What are you doing?"

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with fury. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing my stuff. It's obvious you don't really see me as a real girlfriend. I should've never agreed to stay the weekend. I'm not going to stick around through one of these again."

I wanted to slam my hand against the door frame. I was frustrated with myself, frustrated at Sophie, but also angry as hell at Louis and Salvatore. Instead of letting my anger go physically, I clenched my fists as hard as I could behind my back. "Sophie, I do see you as a real girlfriend. Just because I haven't told you everything about my life doesn't mean I don't need you and want you."

"But you don't respect me," Sophie countered, zipping the bag closed angrily. "If you did, you wouldn't be lying to me right now. So let me ask again, who were those men?"