Page 72 of Hot for Hostage

She huffed a soft laugh, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve said that before, but I’m not a dog, Dav.”

“I just think you deserve all the praise.” I reached down and slowly inched the skirt up her smooth thighs. A slight hitch in her breath was music to my ears. “And it doesn’t sound like you’re complaining.”

The way her throat constricted with another gulp made me grin.

“Nope. No complaints at all,” she croaked. Her hooded eyes followed my progress as I inched her skirt higher.

“Good,” I said, my own voice deepening as I pushed her skirt up to her hips and immediately recognized the dark purple scrap of lace from her underwear drawer. I hooked my thumbs under the sides. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

Sadie’s chest rose and fell with a measured breath, and I watched closely as the decision played out on her face.

“This is so unsanitary,” she mumbled before dropping her head back and pushing her hips up in silent permission. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if unwilling to witness the removal of her underwear.

I took my time easing it over her butt and along her thighs. Over her knees and to her ankles. Bending down, I pulled the garment off her bare feet and tucked it into the inner pocket of my suit. She could have it back later.

Maybe.

Sadie’s breathing picked up, and I grinned before placing a slow kiss on the inside of her knee and settling that leg over my shoulder. After doing the same to her other leg, I slid her ass to the edge of the counter and took a moment to admire the sight.

“Just like I said earlier.” I ran an appreciative thumb over her exposed lips and glanced up at Sadie watching me. “Exquisite.”

A strangled choke left her throat, and she dropped her head back again. “I’m dead. I died. This must be the afterlife.”

Swallowing a laugh, I placed one more kiss on her soft thigh before getting to work between her legs.

She tasted divine.

I watched Sadie like a hawk, studying what she liked and learning her tells. What made her arch her back. Which touches made her breath hitch. When something feltreallygood, she would murmur nonsensical words of encouragement and grab my hair.

For such a small woman, she sure had an iron grip.

I teased her until she couldn’t take it anymore—until she resorted to pleading—and I loved every second. How her legs locked around my head. Her cries. The little moans my tongue pulled from her throat. The babbling nonsense. She gave me everything I asked of her and then some, making my cock strain against my slacks, demanding to join in the fun.

From the way Sadie’s fingers clung to my hair—even tugging a few strands free—and pulled me against her, she was enjoying herself, too.

I could spend all day between her thighs.

When her climax hit, she threw her head back and bucked against me until I banded an arm over her hips to hold her down. My name left her lips in a cry I wanted to hear again and again andagain—even as her grip temporarily blinded me.

I slowed my attention, easing her down until she melted against the counter and her warm, awestruck gaze collided with mine. She looked at me with a sweet hunger and appreciation that had nothing to do with who I was or what I could do in this city, but everything to do with what I could dotoher.

That simple look sent a raw, primal urge coursing through me so intensely, I couldn’t fully bite back a groan.

And in that moment—on a kitchen island, surrounded by pink cupcakes and disgusting chickpea dog treats—I knew I was in trouble.

Because I didn’t just want my little hostage-taker to stick around until this mess with the Skulls was cleaned up.

I wanted her to stay for good.

a very good girl

. . .

Sadie

Sadie’s Guide toHostage-TakingBeing Taken HostageForming a Partnership with Your HostageEmbracing the Hostage Lifestyle, Tip #18: Sometimes, the hostage lifestyle has perks. Really, really good perks.

Lying on a kitchen counter with my ex-hostage’s head between my thighs hadn’t been on my agenda for the day, but I could be flexible when a good opportunity presented itself.

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