Cellar Door (22 page)

Madonna

“Can I speak with you over here for a moment?” Agent Murphy asks.

It’s the first time I’ve seen any emotion on her stoic face. Her smile reveals a row of perfectly straight, white teeth. She’s very attractive—for a cop.

I shrug my shoulders and nonchalantly answer with much more aplomb than I feel at the moment. She flashes her brilliant smile like we’re old friends catching up after a long separation. She isn’t fooling me one damn bit. The woman senses something’s amiss, that something doesn’t quite add up. I’ve got to throw her off the scent.

“So…How did you and the good doctor meet?”

“Here, at the hospital.”

“Visiting someone?”

“In a manner of speaking; I volunteer here. I read to patients.”

“That’s very good of you, I’m sure it’s appreciated. How often do you volunteer?”

“Once a week or so, although I’ve been busy recently so I haven’t been able to as often.” I smile patiently and wait for her to go in for the kill.

“I see. So, you and Dr. Chambers are dating?”

I can’t help but chuckle at that one. “We’re good friends.”

“With benefits?”

“Excuse me?” I say incredulously. Time to shut Agent Murphy down. Now.

“Are you sleeping together?”

“With all due respect, Agent, that’s none of your business,” I huff as I cross my arms over my chest.

“Mm-hmm. I couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable you seemed when we were questioning the doctor. Are you in any danger or in need of any assistance?”

Well…so much for the girlfriends catching up.

“I’m just a regular citizen who finds herself in the middle of a crime scene where a man was killed—unlike you, I’m not accustomed to seeing things like this. So excuse the hell out of me if I’m not my normal cheery self. If that’s all, then we’re done and I’m out of here. Now if you’ll excuse me...”

I don’t wait for an answer, just stride back over to Liam. I deliberately loop my arm through his and look up at him with what I hope is an entirely convincing, enamored gaze. Though his face doesn’t reveal anything, the tensing of his forearm under my hand is enough to let me know he’s anxious about my conversation with Agent Murphy. I’m sure he’ll conduct an interrogation of his own as soon as he gets me alone.

Liam

“Don’t even think about lying to me, Madonna,” I snarl.

Madonna’s back is against the wall as I hold her hands above her head. My other hand is busy stroking her pussy. So slick and wet. Looks like my Madonna gets turned on by my interrogation tactics. This girl is kinky as fuck—the body never lies.

“I’m glad you wore a dress. It makes it easier to interrogate you while I explore every inch of you. You are so fucking wet for me. I bet you had no idea you were this kinky, did you? Don’t even bother answering; anything but a ‘yes’ would be a lie and we both know it.”

“I swear I didn’t say anything to her. She even asked me if I was in danger or needed help. I shut her down and came straight back to you.”

“Law enforcement… You see, they’re suspicious by nature; a lot like me. I don’t believe a fucking word you’re saying. Now be a good girl and tell me what really happened.”

I slip the thin strap of her sexy cotton dress down her arm, just far enough for me to clamp my lips down on a nipple before roughly sucking it into my mouth. When I look up at her through hooded eyes, she bites her bottom lip. I nip at the puckered flesh with my teeth and say sternly, “I’m waiting.”

“She wanted to know how we met, if we’re sleeping together, and if I’m in any danger. She thought I seemed tense.”

“And I’m certain you told her you are perfectly safe,” I bite out as I slide my hand down her flat belly and into the wet, slick heat between her legs. “Maybe I should turn you over my knee and spank that tight ass of yours, hmm?”

“I swear I didn’t tell her anything,” she moans when I insert a finger inside, then stroke my slick fingertip around her clit.

“Don’t you dare come without my permission,” I declare, speaking to her in an unnecessarily harsh tone. I’m having fun just fucking with her. I haven’t decided yet if I want to push her body to orgasm just to make her disobey me, so I can spank that sweet little ass of hers. Hell, either way, I win.

“Liam, you can’t be serious! How am I supposed to not come when you touch me like that?” she purrs, throwing her head back and arching her hips into my hand.

“Mmmm,” is my only reply as I continue to suckle and nibble at her breasts, eventually sliding two fingers in and out of her soaking wet pussy. Between my relentless finger-fucking and teasing her clit with the pad of my thumb, she can’t possibly do anything
but
come. She can’t resist the oh-so-seductive freefall into pleasure that only I can give her.

“Please…I swear I didn’t tell her anything…oh, shit…I’m going to come. Can’t control it, Liam, it’s just so good. It’s…it’s too good...”

Begging, yeah, I like the sound of that.
No sooner does she speak the words than I begin to stroke her clit in tight, firm circles. She comes apart, her body responding exactly as I had hoped with an earth-shattering release.

Madonna

I’ve never been with a man who makes me feel the way he does. The mixture of danger, anger, passion, and sensuality is more than I can take at times, so I just allow it to consume me. The same way my body gives in to him, my mind soars to another place whenever he touches me.

“So, so disobedient,” he purrs seductively. “This makes me think you want to be disciplined. Is that what you want?” He pulls me over to the couch and I stumble as he tosses me across his lap.

“What the—Wait, you can’t be serious?!?” I blurt out as I reach my hand back to protect my ass, which is barely covered by a lacy thong.

“Oh, I’m very serious,” he replies in a grave, overly serious voice.

I kick my legs desperately as he slides my underwear off and smooths a massive hand over my ass. His pinky slides through my slit even as he cups and squeezes my vulnerable backside. I still hold out hope that he won’t fulfill his threat -- until the palm of his hand connects with my ass, the sound reverberating against the walls and the sting causing me to cry out. My legs continue to kick in another unsuccessful bid to get free, but he simply locks a leg over both of mine to keep me still.

He alternates slapping the cheeks of my ass over and over, hard enough that I’m fighting tears. I reach down blindly for the carpet, digging and clawing like some feral animal. I try to get away, writhing and twisting to avoid his hand, even as my juices continue to stream down my thighs.

Then I’m arching my back and writhing on his lap, but now I’m not trying to get away; I’m thrusting my ass in the air and rolling my hips in a desperate bid for more contact, more pressure, any way he wants to touch me. He continues to spank first one cheek then the other, never letting up and always giving equal attention to the slick apex of my thighs, spanking the lips of my pussy too.

When my energy begins to wane, he appears to sense when I’m slipping in to subspace, that sexual nirvana that abandons coherent thought in favor of wave after wave of sensation. He slowly rubs and caresses the flesh he has reddened, then slides two, no three, fingers of his other hand inside me, curls his fingers at an angle and begins to pump forcefully in and out, in and out.

“So wet. I’ve always known your body would respond gloriously to rough handling. You have pleased me and should be rewarded. Let me show you,” he rasps as he slides his free hand down, down, through the crease between my cheeks to my swollen, soaked pussy. He gathers my juices and eases a slick finger into my tiny, puckered hole, pressing inside up to the knuckle in one smooth slide. I jerk in surprise as he begins pumping both my holes. He uses an aggressive rhythm that has me lifting my hips to meet his pace, thrust for thrust as he pants, “—need to be able to control you, like this. Just like this.”

I come apart beneath his intrusive touch, keening in pleasure and uttering mindless, animalistic sounds in a voice I barely recognize. I collapse, still whimpering as he withdraws his digits and plants an open mouthed kiss between my shoulder blades.

“We’re not done yet, I want more,” he says in an authoritative, clipped tone as he abruptly lifts me off his lap. He drapes my limp form over the arm of the couch, roughly spreading my legs even as he once again strokes and kneads the stinging flesh of my ass. As my hips instinctively thrust back into his hand, he chuckles softly and his pants drop around his ankles. Suddenly, the swollen head of his cock is there, sliding up and down my slit.

“You want this cock,” he growls as he squeezes my ass to pull me onto his hard length, groaning and circling his hips against me.

He’s filling me up with all that he has, all that he is. All the bitterness, all his repressed dominant urges, he’s taking them all out on me. I want him to use me. I want to be the one to give him what he needs.

“I can never want another woman after having you, Madonna.”

His thrusts, which had started out slow and steady, become more demanding, more forceful. I sob as I revel in this combination of pleasure and pain that is uniquely his. He reaches around to rub my clit and I know I’m going over the edge again.

“There it is. That’s it, baby…Come all over my cock. Do it…Go…” he groans as sweat rolls off him and onto my back. His hands lock onto my hip and shoulder to hold me in place while he pistons in and out of my body. The nerve endings at the base of my spine begin to tingle as a burst of pure pleasure takes over. He follows me over, his body shuddering before he collapses over me.

The epitome of a sated, well-pleasured male, he hums against my skin as he nuzzles the nape of my neck.

“Never gonna fucking let you go,” he gasps. “This is only the beginning of me making you mine.”

His words sound like a distant melody. The sound of fabric rustling is followed by strong arms wrapping around me as I’m carried across the room. Sounds and sensations flood my senses but I can’t think clearly enough to say a word.

“Get some rest, my love,” he whispers as his lips brush the shell of my ear. “Tomorrow you meet a serial killer.”