Page 74 of Damon
“Normal,” she wails. “What is normal? Because it certainly isn’t this.” She throws her hands up into the air, and her breasts rise with them. My cock stirs beneath the denim. “I will not hide away, Damon. I want to go back to work. I want to be a lawyer. I want to play my part in taking these bastards off the streets.”
We stare at each other for a beat, both of us warring with the other silently—both of us attempting to get the other to see our point of view.
“Damon,” she says, suddenly tender. “You can’t protect me from everything evil.”
“They tried to kill you.”
“But they didn’t. I know the world is dangerous. You need to trust me to be able to deal with it. Please be honest with me and tell me how I’m connected in all of this. And what exactly you are planning to do, because I want to help.”
My eyes run over her face. She’s so fucking determined. I know she won’t back down; I know she wants to play a part in this.
“Okay,” I concede. “I’ll tell you everything, but tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to forget about all of it.”
“Promise?” she says sexily, then walks out from behind my desk.
“I promise.”
“So, how can I help take your mind off things, Chief Constable?” she asks with a smile. As she moves toward me, she lifts her top over her head and lets it fall to the floor. When she stands in front of me, she is only wearing a tiny pair of shorts. My gaze drops to her chest, round breasts with large pert nipples begging to be sucked. I cup one breast in my left hand and squeeze, and she gasps softly.
“There is the small matter of you breaking and entering, then causing criminal damage to my door,” I whisper, leaning down and placing my lips at her ear. “How do you feel about being put under arrest?”
“You would have to catch me first,” she says, cheekily and steps back as I pull the handcuffs from my back pocket.
“Run, Spitfire,” I say darkly. “Because when I catch up, you’ll know about it.”
Chapter twenty-six
Damon, Emma, and Annie's Home, London
Emma
Damon pulls the handcuffs from his back pocket then spins them on his finger. I take two steps backward and turn, diving behind his desk and putting the furniture between us. When I rotate again to face him, he’s watching me with dark eyes and an expression that makes my panties damp.
“Emma Becker,” he says, his tone professional. “I am arresting you on suspicion of breaking and entering.” He walks forward and stands on the other side of the desk from me. “If you come quietly, I will make this as pleasurable as possible for you.” I giggle, and he raises an eyebrow. “However, if you make my job difficult, I will have to dispense some form of penalty.”
I place my hands on the work surface and lean forward. His eyes drop to my breasts, which swing free. “What sort of penalty?” I whisper, then bite my lip. “Because tonight I don’t feel like conforming to your rules, Chief Constable.”
“That would be ill-advised, Miss Becker. You would force me to use some rough justice.” I step left and he moves with me. My eyes glance at the door—the chances of me getting there without him catching me are slim. “Come quietly now and…”
Before he can finish his sentence, I take off at a run. My attempt to duck past him is successful until I reach the doorway and feel firm hands grab my waist from behind. He pulls me hard to him, my ass connecting with his rock-solid cock.
Strong fingers wrap around my right wrist and pull it behind my back. I’m aware of cool metal being snapped around my skin. He repeats the process with my other arm, and I’m left handcuffed in my shorts with my hands behind my back. He turns me to face him and kisses me softly on the lips.
“Don’t move until I tell you to,” he says, firmly, then walks over to his desk and opens a drawer. He pulls out a small elastic band and returns to my side, taking my hair between strong fingers and plaiting it masterfully before securing it over my shoulder with the band. “Emma Becker, you’ve been found guilty of your offense.”
“Which one?” I tease and he smirks.
“Too many to mention.” He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me over to his desk. “But today you’ll pay for your bad behavior.”
“What’s the sentence?”
He leans down so our lips are millimeters from each other. His intense gaze holds mine, and my mouth dries in anticipation.
“Death by orgasm,” he replies. “I’m going to fucking rip you in two.”
I’m standing against the edge of the table, and he places a hand on the back of my head. “Bend,” he orders, and I comply by leaning forward from the waist, relaxing my knees, and allowing my upper body to rest on the smooth surface. He stands behind me and massages my ass with firm hands before pulling my shorts and panties down my legs, leaving me naked. “Spread your legs.” I shuffle slightly on his command. “Wider, I want to see that pussy of yours exposed and ready for my cock,” he growls. I take a deliberate step with each foot to widen my stance further. “Perfect, don’t move.”
He walks over to the corner of the room and lifts a freestanding, full-length mirror from its place. He carries it over and places it adjacent so I can see myself from the side, bent over his desk and handcuffed. “I’m going to fuck you like this,” he tells me as we look at each other in the mirror. “You are going to watch me play with that pussy, then sink myself inside while you can’t fucking move.”