Page 19 of Executing Malice (Jefferson Rejects #4)

A powerful silhouette eclipsing the sun pouring through the glass. It’s almost menacing the way he stands, blocking my escape, feet shoulder width apart. Fingers encased in leather bunched at his sides.

“What’s wrong?”

I blink at the question and struggle to compose myself.

“Nothing—”

He moves with long, quick strides. It’s so unexpected, I’m given no chance to suck in a breath before I’m lifted off my feet, tossed over his shoulder and forcibly marched to a destination I can’t see through the heavy curtain of hair falling over my face.

“Where are you taking me?” I snap .

My kidnapper says nothing as I’m carted across the room. I hear a doorknob rattle and know we’re heading into the staffroom before the darkness consumes us.

“We can’t be in here!” I hiss, and again, I’m ignored with the kick of his heel against the door.

Every drop of light vanishes, and still, he moves with purpose like he’s been back here a million times. I have and I would still walk into a wall in the dark.

Not him.

I’m dropped down on the rickety table tucked in the opposite wall from the safe.

“You’re going to get me fired,” I tell him. “You can’t be in here.”

His hands close around my face. Ten points of pressure and restraint as he drags me to him.

“Fucking need you.”

Is all I hear before his mouth finds mine.

Every thought leaves my skull before the assault. The low, desperate growl claws though me with a purpose I’m incapable of stopping as he claims my soul. As he molds me to him, parts my knees and settles between them.

He devours my mouth with the hunger of someone starved. Like I am the only anchor in a storm. He grips me, crushes me with a madness that hurts and still isn’t enough .

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“Need you,” he says again, but with jagged edges of such pain I find my fingers closing in his clothes. In his hair. Gripping him like I can keep him together.

“I’m here,” I breathe into his nipping mouth.

He’s breathing hard, splintered pants that radiate with heat coming off his skin.

“Don’t go,” he pleads, fingers fisting and tearing at my skirt. “Promise me.”

I hear the rattle and jingle of his belt a second later.

I don’t stop him.

My thighs widen. My hands drag my skirt up in preparation.

“I won’t,” I murmur.

I’m pulled over the edge and turned over. A hand between my shoulder blades presses me forward, bends me across the table, straddling the sharp corner. The cold surface kisses my cheek as I’m made to spread my ankles with a nudge of his boots. My skirt is twisted and wrenched up over my back.

A weird part of me is comically amused by his proficiency when I can’t even see my hand inches from my face.

He moves like a man with night vision. But my humor is short lived when my panties are shoved to one side and the cold, steel bars hit the one in my clit.

In the silence, the soft clink is deafening.

But it’s easily forgotten with the first sweep of his cock between my folds.

I hold my breath when he nudges my opening. Invades. My fingers curl against the smooth plastic coating the table with a moan as he stretches me. As the bars anchor against my tender channel and latches.

“Fuck!” I groan as the wild ride of raw pleasure curls my toes in my slippers.

“I need to fuck you,” he groans through gritted teeth.

“Yes. Please...” I choke out and feel his fingers tighten around my hips.

I feel his restraint. The need coursing down his arms.

“Not yet,” he grinds out at last.

He slides forward a hair, just enough to sink the first ridge of steel and my entire body jolts. The piercing kisses mine, sending sparks behind my eyes.

“Fuck...” I gasp, forehead pressed into the cool table. “Please...”

He shifts his grip. One hand slides up my spine to fist in my braid. I’m forcibly dragged back, made to arch and grind into the table corner while he stretches me. While he pulses and twitches.. .

“I said, not yet,” he growls, voice serrated with restraint. Every word burns against the shell of my ear as my head is dragged back. “But keep begging. You do it so prettily.”

The tip of him nudges deeper still as his hips rut with shallow, grinding strokes. It’s not enough to push me over, but it still feels so good. So maddeningly torturous.

I sob and push back with my hips.

“Tell me you want me to breed your cunt and I’ll let you take every inch like your messy pussy wants,” he taunts. “I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

The promise is so tempting. So perfect. My body almost forgets why we’re resisting.

It’s made harder when his free hand slips beneath my top to cradle my breast.

“Fuck, I love your tits. I can’t wait to milk them.” He palms and squeezes the mound like he’s milking me. “You’re going to feed our baby, then you’re going to feed me while I fuck another baby inside you.”

Without permission, my arm hooks back around his neck, arching my spine. Pressing my breast harder into his palm. My hips bump and roll, grinding into the table while grinding on him.

“That’s it. Ride my cock. Get yourself off. I want to feel your hole suck my head and take my cum.”

I want that, too .

I want more of him spilling out of me to soak my panties. He’s been drizzling out all morning and I’ve been so aroused, barely stopping myself from reaching beneath my skirt and fingering it all back in.

“I want more,” I tell him, pushing back to take what I want. “Deeper.”

The hand on my breast drifts up through the collar of my sweater to chain around my throat. His hip pumps in another inch and I hiss as his piercings drag over mine.

“That’s all your greedy cunt gets. Now, cum so I can lubricate your slippery hole for your surprise.”

I let my head fall back against his shoulder. My eyes close. I work the corner and his cock with hurried rolls, building the fire.

But that’s not enough for him when he tucks his free hand between me and the hard surface and matches my pumps with his fingers on my tender clit.

“Yes...” I whimper, pressing down into his palm. “God, don’t stop.”

Without warning, I’m shoved down on the table and he’s bucking and fingering me fast and hard.

“What did I tell you about moaning another man’s name?”

I can’t answer as I cum. As he forces me over .

Again.

And again.

Never slowing.

Never letting up.

I’m screaming and pleading. My legs kick wildly, trying to squeeze his fingers between them but he makes me climax again.

“You’re mine. Fucking mine.” He pins my thrashing hips. “Not even God can have you.”

I feel the hot spray of his cum hit my walls. It burns, flooding my twitching body. Filling my core.

His grunt seizes my channel. It drips with pride and satisfaction as he claims me. Marks me with his seed.

His finger stays on my clit. His cock head wedged in my hole, corking me.

I’ve never been so content.

“I’m taking you home after work,” he murmurs into the back of my neck. “I want you on my bike.”

I should argue. I need my car for the morning, but the sharp jingle of the front door has me scrambling back to reality.