Page 34 of The Enforcer

Floored, I didn’t move at all for a few seconds, gasping from the myriad sensations coursing through me.

Pain.

Pleasure.

Warmth.

Need.

They were all mixed together in a seductive way, keeping me on that beautiful plateau created earlier. The moment I shifted on his lap, the thickness of his cock pressed firmly into my stomach. My pussy was throbbing in beat to his shaft and I kept undulating, creating friction between us.

His breathing remained labored as he continued smacking me long and hard with the palm of his hand. After a full minute, I stopped fighting him, the pleasure outweighing any concept of agony. As strange as it seemed, my pussy was wetter than before, the scent wafting between us.

He peppered my bottom with hard strikes and I could tell he was enjoying himself immensely. Without a doubt, he was the most dominating man I’d ever met, yet he did so with ease. As if he’d been born into power.

The moment he rolled his fingers down the crack of my ass, I stiffened. The man adored toying with me, making me as wet as possible. He was doing a fine job, the ache in my pussy only increasing. He took his time teasing my swollen lips before driving his fingers into my tight channel all over again.

I almost came on the spot, another shock to my system. He’d left me on the edge needing more. The man was a drug I not only craved but required. How had the intense connection happened so quickly?

He resumed the spanking, but only for a minute longer. I could tell by the heavy heat in the room he wasn’t in the mood to waste any additional time. Something inside of me knew instinctively he was a brutal, savage man capable of doing terrible things. He’d all but admitted he was a killer.

Yet I was still drawn to him. It was blasphemous in every language. In every culture. I’d never been very attracted to bad boys, even on the big screen. I’d thought of them as crybabies and fading heroes.

As with everything about Christos, the thought was pitched aside, the man a true anomaly. He confirmed my belief once again when he tenderly pulled me into his lap, stroking the side of my face almost as if comforting me.

Or perhaps he was offering one last silent opportunity to walk away.

I couldn’t do it.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips against my forehead. The move seemed odd, but there was no mistaking what he intended as he lifted me into his arms, shifting and easing me down onto the bed. As he’d done before, he never blinked as he crawled between my legs.

I’d never seen such an outright intense look on a man. Yet it wasn’t just about him lusting for the taste of a female. I wasn’t some goddess that he’d created in his mind. He was also determining if he could trust me. The moment was fleeting, but I could see it clearly.

It was just like the one his soldiers or bodyguards or whatever he called them had provided while interrogating me about Christos’ surgery. I was instantly placed on edge, even attempting to roll over. I’d never felt so completely vulnerable around anyone. He could easily kill me.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“What’s wrong, my angel?” His voice was as gentle as his earlier actions. He used only a single finger to guide my face back to the front. Or maybe I’d allowed him to do so.

“Nothing is wrong.”

He smirked and gripped my jaw. There was pressure, but it was more about his determined need for me to listen to him. “Yes, Valencia. I need to question everyone who comes into my life. That’s a curse I can’t escape. Doing so is also a natural reaction. It’s ingrained in me, more so since my brother’s murder. I did not mean to hurt or insult you in any way. You are a bright light I never want dulled. I don’t want you to leave, but I’ll understand if the desire no longer remains.”

He rubbed his thumbs across my lip a single time before sitting back. It was strangely confusing that he was allowing me the choice.

“I will tell you this, my angel. If you decide to stay, you won’t be allowed another opportunity. Is that understood?”

His dominating demeanor sent a series of heated vibrations through me. “Yes. I’m not leaving.”

“Good. Because I’m uncertain if I could allow you to go.” The vibrant spark had returned to his eyes. He lifted my arms over my head, easily grasping both wrists with one hand as he used the fingers of his other to trace lines in my forehead, rolling them down my nose. He cocked his head, concentrating on what he was doing as he continued his trail, brushing them along my side to my hip and across to my belly button.

“I need to touch you,” I told him as I struggled in his tight hold.

“You’ve been a naughty girl.” He pinched my nipple and I moaned in delight.

“What if I’m very, very good?”

He lifted a single eyebrow as he flicked the same nipple before taking his time trailing his finger to my other breast. “Is that even possible with you?”

---