Page 59 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

"That’s the thing, Jules. You don't have to fucking try. If you tried, it would make it all easier. It wouldn't be as real. But it is real. Every fucking bit of it. And I want it all. I need to own you the same way you own me." I lean into her ear, lowering my voice. "Tell me you’re mine."

Julieanne sways in my grip, forcing me to hold more of her weight as she grabs at the front of my shirt.

I slide the hand at her throat to the back of her head, gripping her up-swept hair in my fist, pulling tight. "Tell me, Jules. You know it's fucking true."

I want to say I wouldn't have done all I did if Julieanne didn't want me the way I want her, but I don't think I can make that guarantee. Doesn't matter anyway. She’s as unhinged about me as I am about her. The woman tracked my phone, for God’s sake. She hacked into my system again and again, and then broke into my apartment. I'm not the only one with an obsession here, and it's time for her to fucking admit it.

"I'm yours."

A smile of victory curves my lips. "Good girl." I shift the arm across her back, sliding my palm to grip one cheek of her ass, pulling her tighter against me so I can rock my aching dick into the softness of her belly. "Tell me you're not leaving."

She gasps when I tip my head to drag my mouth up the side of her neck. "I'm not leaving."

"That's right," I growl against her skin. “You're staying with me because you’re mine."

This time she nods, leaning into me a little more. "I'm yours."

The soft breathiness of her agreement fans the possessive flames licking through my soul. I'vewaited six long months to have her, but I waited even longer to find her. Didn't believe she existed. Never thought I would find someone who would make me willing to go against everything within me.

"Say you belong to me, Jules." I grip the hem of her sweatshirt, dragging it up the soft curve of her body, unable to wait any longer. I peel it over her head, tossing it to the floor before unhooking her bra and sending it falling.

Julieanne seems unfocused, skin flushed, eyes glassed over with lust. But I need to hear it. I need her to give me what I want.

I slap one of her tits, making contact with the nipple, the impact making her gasp, but not in pain. "Say it."

"I belong to you." The words rush out as her pupils dilate.

"That's right. You fucking belong to me." I cradle the weight of her tit, ducking my head as I pull it to my mouth, sucking the nipple I just slapped between my lips. It's already hard, and she moans as I flick it with my tongue, her head tipping back as one hand digs into my hair. I drag my mouth over her soft skin, tongue out to lick over her collarbone and up the side of her neck before claiming her lips. She whimpers, arms linking around my shoulders as her tongue slicks against mine.

I didn’t plan to come home and fuck her right out of the gate. I wanted to have a more domestic sort of evening. Something that felt like the normal most people expect. Dinner. Television. A night like I never thought I’d have again.

But tonight won’t be that kind of night. And I’m not even a little mad about it.

I break our kiss and step back. “You have to the count of ten to get naked and get on that fucking bed.”

Julieanne blinks at me and for a second I think she didn’t hear my demand. But then she whispers, “You’re really big on countdowns, aren’t you?”

“Eight.” I peel my shirt off, adding it to the stack of her clothes on the floor. “Six.”

Julieanne’s eyes widen. “You skipped seven.”

“Just because you didn’t hear me say it, doesn’t mean I skipped it, Angel Face.” I unhook my belt and drag it from the loops, using my other hand to snap it free. “Four.”

Her breath is coming faster now, but she still hasn’t moved. “What happens if I’m late?”

“Seems like you’re about to find out.” I flip open my pants and shove them, underwear and all, to the floor. “Two.”

She barely backs up as I advance on her, but it’s not fear I see in her eyes. The flare of heat and desire is unmistakable.

I take another long step, the head of my bobbing cock dragging against the bare skin of her belly as I smile. “You like living on the edge, don’t you, Jules?”

22

WHO CARES ABOUT ACCEPTABLE STANDARDS ANYWAY?

JULIEANNE

I SHOULD NOT be so turned on right now. I shouldn't be so ridiculously happy either. What Vincent’s done is not acceptable by most people's standards, and it probably shouldn't be acceptable by mine.

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