Protect & Serve(20)

What the hell is wrong with you, Sandra? Don’t let this man affect you like this. Hold it together…

I didn’t have a chance to revel in my little show of force. Nathan’s hands swept up behind me, grasping at my wrists and lifting them, throwing my hands against the wall as he pressed against me from behind. I could feel the heat of his dick against my ass and his breath catching just behind my ear.

“Jesus Christ, Sandra. Do you even understand what you do to me?” he whispered, holding my wrists tighter as my palms pressed against the cool wood paneling. His breath swept through the hairs at my nape, sending goosebumps over every inch of my skin. “Women fall over themselves to be with me. Bag the rich guy—that’s the game, isn’t it? They play pretend. They want something. All of them want something. You were always different. You never asked me for anything...”

“I only wanted you.”

“Then why the fuck did you break it off with me?” Nathan said, straining against me.

“Because you were too self-obsessed to give yourself to anyone. All we had was sex and lies. I hated your immaturity. I hated everything about you,” I said, my body practically purring with excitement.

He released my wrists, but I kept my palms firmly planted against the wall, rocking my hips ever so slightly against him and gasping as his fingertips brushed slowly down my sides. He paused at the edge of my breasts, feeling them through the thin t-shirt I’d slept in, teasing the rounded edges before moving on to my hips.

“I’m not that man anymore, Sandra,” he said huskily, his voice strained as he pressed his fingertips into the soft spots at the front of my hips. I could feel the slight tremor of his touch—he was so close to losing control. He pressed harder, and I knew there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers by the afternoon.

I didn’t care. In fact, I realized, I wanted them. I wanted to look into the mirror later and see the remnants of when Nathaniel Hale’s lust had gotten the better of him—and of me. Every time I looked at my hips for the next few days, I wanted to shiver at the reminder of all the dirty, filthy things this man had done to me.

I moaned as he pressed his lips into my neck, gliding them over my flesh. He left scorching trails wherever he went, like he was setting fire to my very being with only the power of his caress. I could feel my pussy pulsing with want—no, with need.

I wanted to hate-fuck Nathaniel Hale into oblivion, and maybe even beyond.

I wanted to take out all my frustrations on this spoiled brat. I wanted to make him want for something, for once, something I’d deny him until he was begging and pleading and broken beneath me. But as much as I wanted that, I wanted him to take me, too, to show me what I’d been missing since the day I left him high and dry in his fancy little castle on the hill.

“You always been so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, biting ever so softly on the slender expanse of muscle between my shoulder and neck. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, my knees trembling as he blew warm air over his teeth marks. “I can’t control myself around you, not since that first time,” he added breathily, his hands forcing my loose flannel bottoms down over my hips, the pants pooling around my ankles as my skin tingled in the cool air.

My bare ass was pressed against him now, and I could feel his dick throbbing steadily against me. He pressed it up against the small of my back, rocking gently until I felt a warm bead of precum smear onto my skin. I moaned, my ripe ass working against his balls as I squirmed uncontrollably.

I willed myself to stay still as he forced my legs apart with his knee, arching my back as his hands crept back up beneath my loose t-shirt to grope and fondle my breasts. He slipped my nipples between his fingers, toying with them mercilessly, drawing soft wails from between my lips as he flicked over them with his thumbs.

Was I really doing this? His words echoed in my mind:

I’m not that man anymore…

My mind was muddled by the dull ache still pulsing through my pussy and the insane desire welling up from every part of my body. Did I want this? Was I ready for it? Would it even be right? I was supposed to be protecting the witness, not fucking his brains out—I was fairly certain that last bit went against some unspoken witness protection rule.

A thought occurred to me just then, a silly one, but a justification for my desire nonetheless: what would “Candy” do?

“I want you inside me,” I whispered at last. The words tasted bittersweet as they left my lips, as though I’d given up the advantage in exchange for fulfilling my most primal need.

Every nerve in my body was on a hair-trigger, and as his hand swept in slow motion back down over my hip and around my ass toward my inner thigh, I let out the loudest moan of my life.