Like a Fox on the Run, стр. 113
It was on one of the left-handed strikes that she could take no more and her orgasm gushed forth with a cry of passion and a tensing of her entire body. Still, he did not stop. He knew better. He’d made that mistake once before, feeling she might need a little mercy and had taken a tongue-lashing for it. He kept up the hard, relentless spanking, even as she convulsed in the throes of quivering ecstasy.
“God, Matt! Don’t stop! Please do—” she gasped, unable to finish, as a second surge of pleasure began to sweep over her. He grinned in satisfaction. Once she started, it was like an atomic chain reaction, wave after wave of lustful energy battering her body like a storm tide pounding the beach. By the time they were finished, she would be as spent as a teenage girl’s PDC battery on Friday night.
How he loved exhausting her!
Her cuffed hands gripped the rails of the headboard, as she used them for leverage, pushing her body back hard against him. Awash in ecstasy, she screamed in acquiescence. It was an animalistic, guttural scream of lustful approval as the next wave broke upon her like a storm tide crashing upon the beach.
Matt gritted his teeth as he met her primal thrusts with forceful ones of his own. “That’s right! Don’t you hold nothin’ back! Give me all of you or I’ll spank this cute little ass even harder! And there’s nothing you can do about it!”
Nor did she want to. She was on her fourth orgasm when he felt himself pass the point of no return. Only then did he cease his assault on her stinging, burning derriere. Needing both hands, he greedily grabbed the small of her waist again, pulling her savagely back into him. He could no longer contain himself now as he worked her against his groin like a jackhammer. She screamed yet again, as she went for a fifth time, realizing his time was at hand.
“Oh, goddamn, baby! Yes!” she screamed. “Yesss!”
With a snarl of triumph, he felt the dam burst within his own groin. A shudder of pleasure raced through her as she felt the warmth of him fill her.
He held her to him, not allowing them to separate. Keeping himself firmly planted as deeply as possible, he wanted every last bit of him deposited into her. It wouldn’t be until the last of the pulsating had ceased in his now-deflating organ, that he would finally release her, allowing her to flop face down on the mattress in a sweaty heap of contented fatigue.
“That was nice!” she panted out. “That make you feel better; burn off some of that frustration from tonight?” Burlington had been in a foul mood ever since meeting that bounty hunter, Frost.
“Oh, I’ve been feeling much better since his men had to come scrape his ass up off the byway.” Burlington had to admit … deep down he’d enjoyed that a lot more than he could ever show.
As if it had been waiting for just this reprieve, his PDC started purring on the bed beside him. Before they’d begun, he’d set it to silent, so as not to interrupt their session. Now, its incessant vibrating caused it to dance erratically on the bedsheet, like an impatient insect. Normally he would’ve let it go to voice mail, but once he saw the number he knew that wasn’t an option. It was the Precinct Watch Commander. He picked it up and put it to his ear.
“Burlington.”
Below him, Stella lay, making soft, contented murmurs of satisfaction. He was still positioned behind her, preventing her from bringing her legs together. As he listened to the watch commander’s report, he couldn’t help but admire his handiwork, the sticky mess he’d just made. He felt it arousing him again.
“Ok … when …. So, what does the surgeon think?” He was trying to be patient, after all this was official police business. But the more he stared at her, the harder it was becoming, in more ways than one. “I see … alright, I wanna know the minute that changes. Is that understood? Good. Call me if there’s anything else.”
He disconnected the call and punched in four numbers on the device’s touchscreen. Pressing the ‘pound’ button, the handcuffs unlocked with a metallic click. The locking arms slid back, allowing her to free her wrists.
“That was the duty officer down at the station,” he reported to her as she squirmed dreamily on the bed.
“And?” she cooed blissfully as she pulled her pillow up under her head.
“DeWitt is out of surgery.”
“How’d it go?”
“He’s alive for the moment, but they put his chances at around fifty/fifty,” he answered as he reached down and began softly rubbing her still-smarting derriere.
“Mmmmm,” she voiced her approval of his hands upon her again, this time tender and comforting. “Is he strong enough to undergo a Brain Drain?”
“Nowhere close … not without killing him.” He raised up and leaned over her prostrate body, grabbing the pack of confiscated cigarettes from the nightstand. Tapping two out of the pack, he lit both. Stella flipped over onto her back, stretching like a lazy cat in the sun. Both arms went straight out above her head, revealing the two neatly trimmed strips of red hair in the pits