Dark Blue (South Island PD Book 1) (12 page)

“You’re gorgeous, Belle.” He massaged her nipples with his thumbs, leaning in and brushing her neck with his lips. “I could spend a whole day and night just touching you – just looking at you.”

“I could say the same about you, except— Well, there’s something else I really want to do.”

He pressed a kiss against the pulse point in the hollow of her neck before straightening and pulling his hands from her breasts.

She missed his touch, but her mouth was watering all the same.

“Not like I’ve ever been able to say no to you. What is it?”

She knelt on the bedspread, lowering her head and placing her hands on his thighs with unmistakable intent.

He tensed and sucked in a hard breath before her lips even touched the crown of his cock. And when they did, he swore.

“Can’t even tell you how many times I’ve thought about what it’d feel like if you sucked me, Belle. Fuck…”

She took her time sliding down his shaft, her lips tight around it and her tongue tracing every hard inch. It was hot in her mouth, thickly veined.

He put his hands in her hair and gripped tight, rocking his hips and generating wet friction between her tongue, lips and his dick.

She moaned, as much out of surprise as pleasure. Feeling her scalp tighten beneath his knuckles, feeling the tremor in his hips – it was a rush, pure and simple.

She couldn’t quite take him all the way, but she managed to get close. The deeper she took him, the more tense he became, breathing out loud as she slid up and down.

He wasn’t really controlling her with his hands, just holding on, hovering on the edge of domination. When she tasted a hint of salty heat, he used his grip to guide her back, farther and farther until the tip of his dick brushed her lips and he was free.

“That was so damn good.” He tipped her head back until her gaze met his.

Maybe it was her position that made it seem that way, but his eyes looked darker than she’d ever seen them, misted by lust and longing.

A full-body tightening struck her, and she gasped.

“Lie back so I can eat your pussy. I’ve missed the taste.”

The idea made her shiver with anticipation, but she shook her head. She could still feel the solid weight of his shaft against her tongue, and she couldn’t wait any longer to feel it inside her.

“I want you inside me,” she said. “I don’t want to wait – not even for that.”

He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut for just a second and his lips moving, swearing silently. “If that’s what you want.”

He picked up the condom he’d laid on the bedspread, tore its package and started rolling it down over his dick before she could blink.

His fingers slid down the sides of his shaft, stroking the transparent sleeve flat against his erection. He stopped when he got to the base, his fingertips touching dark golden hair.

It was mesmerizing – the fat shaft standing tall, in line with the trail of hair that striped his torso as his fingers worked over the stiff flesh.

“Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap.

Her thighs split over his knees, opening wide as she straddled him. He held her steady with an arm and gripped his dick with his free hand, angling it so that the head bumped her clit, then slipped below.

She was so wet that he slid, parting her pussy lips in just a second, then pressing against her entrance, poised to fill her.

Sucking in a breath, she set her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. Anticipation made her lightheaded, and she barely bit back a moan of impatience.

He nudged inside her, just barely, before letting go of his dick and placing a hand on her hip instead.

“Ready, Princess?” He squeezed.

She squeezed back, her nails biting into his shoulders.

He thrust, entering her in one sure, deep stroke. Her body stretched and ached, but the thrill of pleasure was so much deeper and stronger than the shock.

Moaning, she slid her arms around his neck and leaned against his chest, saying his name.

He rocked below her, not missing a beat. The whole bed shifted beneath them, the mattress bumping softly against the wall. She’d have to fix that later so she didn’t bother her neighbors next time, and the next, and the next…

With him so deep inside her and his heart beating strong and fast against her breasts, it was easy to imagine doing this with him every chance she got. Either that, or to simply never let it end.

The ache in her pussy had faded, but he still stretched her with every stroke, leaving her full and then even fuller as he slid home, pressing his groin tightly against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, closing out the rest of the world. Every now and then, her core seized up, her inner walls tightening around his shaft.

When he stopped, she wanted to moan.

Instead, she complied when he pried her from around his neck and laid her back on the bed, remaining inside her the entire time. Still on his knees and with her on her back in front of him, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders.

She felt the difference immediately: the way his hard cock pressed against a breathtaking spot, making her head spin. When he thrust, she couldn’t keep quiet. Every stroke drove out a hard breath, a moan. The friction between the top of his shaft and that sweet spot was mind-blowing, and since she couldn’t reach him, she gripped fistfuls of the comforter.

His thrusts shook her, driving her shoulders into the bedclothes, but he held her fast by her legs, his palms clamped over her thighs. The invasion was so deep and the pleasure so intense that she felt more a part of him than herself, and then her pussy shrank so tight around him that the feeling doubled.

Her climax rushed through her in pulses, its peaks punctuated by his thrusts. She cried out and arched her back, bearing down with her thighs against his chest and her shoulders against the bed. Her sounds were wordless, but he groaned her name and gripped her thighs tighter, slamming into her.

All the breath rushed out of her lungs and her eyetooth caught her lip. She tasted a hint of blood, a coppery ghost that haunted the fringes of her senses, overshadowed by bliss.

After several moments of holding her in its thrall, the pleasure faded, leaving her breathless and plagued by tremors in her thighs and shoulders.

Jackson reined in the fierceness of his last several thrusts, stilling himself and slowly lowering her legs from his shoulders and pulling out of her body.

She let her thighs ease apart, slipping open as she lay flat on the bed.

He was between them in a moment, covering her body with his and bracing himself with his arms on the mattress as he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her deeply, simultaneously pressing his cock against her swollen pussy lips and pushing into her again.

Her pussy clenched, a last, frenzied contraction striking her and making her gasp, ruining the kiss.

It took a second for her eyes to focus, but when they did she saw the tiny smear of red on his lip – her blood.

She lifted a hand to wipe it away, but he was oblivious. When she rubbed the pad of her thumb over his mouth, he kissed it and then caught it between his teeth.

Her hand tingled beneath the pressure, and she caught the flash of white beyond his lips. He let go as he rocked into her again and she tipped her head back, shutting her eyes and focusing solely on the sensation of him deep in her body, mining pleasure from dark, lonely places she hadn’t allowed anyone to touch in a long time.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, holding him tight.

A subdued groan rumbled deep in his chest, and she felt the vibrations in her breasts.

“Gonna come, Belle.” He put a hand in her hair, gathering her even closer. “Kiss me.”

He crushed his mouth against hers before she could react, his lips hot and his tongue searching for hers, then sliding along its length when he found it.

He began thrusting with deliberate force, moaning into her mouth. Then he lost his rhythm, his hips moving so rapidly that the slap of his skin meeting hers stung and her pussy clenched, so sensitive that she cried out too.

The kiss was over. He bowed his head, groaning, and cradled her skull with one hand as his other grasped her shoulder. Each stroke was harder than the last, until he stopped.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Then he pulled his hand gently from her hair and retreated even more slowly from her body.

She let her limbs fall from around him as he climbed out from the cradle of her thighs to lie stretched on the bed beside her.

She took a few seconds to study his body – the flush below his collarbones, bordering his tattoo, and the way his chest rose and fell while his cock remained hard. Then he caught her gaze, and she couldn’t look away.

He touched her lip like she’d touched his.

“Little bit of blood,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yes.” She took his hand and pulled it to her chest, where she held it over her pounding heart, her fingers brushing the dark ink that spiraled all the way to his wrist.

“Well worth the wait,” he said.

“Yeah, it was.”

And they’d waited so, so long.

“Do you want me to go?” His gaze was unwavering. “Or—”

“You can stay if you want to.” She still couldn’t look away. The thought of him leaving made her chest feel hollow. As they’d come together, so had the past and present. She felt close to him, and she didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. “I hope you do.”

He reached over the side of the bed – never letting go of her hand – and grabbed his shorts, then fished his phone from the pocket.

She assumed he was setting an alarm. It took only seconds, then his attention was back on her.

“I need to get rid of this.” He dropped his gaze to his dick, which had barely begun to soften. The condom was full. “Bathroom?”

“Right across the hall. The only other door.”

She watched his ass as he stood and left the room. It was all round, tight muscle, dusted with the same reddish-gold hair as his legs and chest. Perfect.

He didn’t waste any time, and when he got back, he shut off the lights on his way to her bed.

“Not disrupting your beauty routine or anything, am I?” He paused, halfway under the covers beside her.

“No,” she lied. No way was she getting out of bed to wash her face and moisturize. Not tonight.

“Okay. Just making sure.” The weight and heat of his body in her bed was both foreign and – after what they’d just done – familiar. When he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close against his naked body, her heart leapt. “My first time spending the night with a princess. No idea how royalty gets ready for bed.”

She exhaled sharply, still a little too breathless to laugh. “Are you really going to keep calling me Princess?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it makes me think of the ridiculous idea you used to have about me being better than you – which I never was.”

He drew his arm tighter around her, until she could feel his heart beating against her back. “Forget I said that, then. ’Cuz the name is sticking. It just fits.”

“Okay then … Prince Charming.”

He scoffed, his breath rushing against the back of her neck. “I’ll try my best to live up to that, but you’ll have to be patient with me.”

She wriggled against him, quickly growing addicted to his heat and the way it insulated her against the chill of the AC. “Don’t worry; I’d put up with a lot to relive the past hour.”

The sound of his laughter made her heart light.

She closed her eyes, aware of the unmistakable pressure of another erection pressing against her ass, where she’d settled it against his groin.

He was still hard, even when the pattern of his breathing told her he’d fallen asleep.

* * * * *

Jackson was gone when Belle woke up to the sound of her alarm. She remembered him setting his, but she must’ve either slept through it or fallen back asleep and forgotten the disruption.

Seven o’clock light streamed through her blinds, making her gauzy kitchen curtains luminesce. The only sign he’d been there was a pot of fresh coffee. That, and the ache in her core.

Sinking down at the kitchen table with a mug, she sighed. Six to six. That was his daytime shift. He must’ve gotten up hours ago to head home, shower and get a clean uniform. She almost felt bad for keeping him up late, except…

She was incapable of truly regretting the night before.

For a while, she floated in a haze of tired satisfaction. Slowly but surely, the coffee brought her to life. Jackson brewed it strong – just like she liked it. It was another drop in the bucket of things he did that brought her pleasure.

Everyone had their flaws, their rough edges … but so far, she hadn’t seen any of his. Other than the bizarre way he’d apparently underestimated himself in the past.

Princess
. As ridiculous as she’d felt when he’d first called her that, her feelings had started to change when he’d used the endearment the night before, with her naked in his lap. Now, remembering the nickname made her blush and tingle with pleasure.

She couldn’t wait to see him again. Showering and dressing on autopilot, she prepared for a workday she couldn’t have been less excited about.

It was the morning after her first night with Jackson in six years and there was only room in her mind for him: the cop who’d taken her virginity and now, the cop she couldn’t get enough of.

* * * * *

Jackson drove by the Sanders’ house. Not because he’d gone out of his way, but because their street was the fastest way to cut toward one of the best and cheapest sandwich shops on the south side of the island.

He saw her as soon as he turned onto the block: Kate Sanders on the porch, watering a hanging basket overflowing with ferns.

Regret and anger welled up inside him, even a sense of betrayal. Mostly, though, he felt pity. The emotions combined to make his foot heavy, and he slowed to a roll as he neared the curb in front of her house.

She stopped and stared, those impossibly slender arms holding the watering can upright. Her mouth cracked open, and her jaw drifted down. There was only one car in the driveway. When Sanders had been home the other day, there’d been two.

She was alone.

Her gaze pulled on him like a cold tide, sucking him into waters he had no business being in.

But somebody had to do something. He slowed to a stop in front of her house.

As soon as he stopped moving, she started, setting the watering can on the porch and descending the stairs, coming toward him.

He rolled down his window as she approached the side of his cruiser.

“Officer Calder.” There were dark circles under her eyes – from exhaustion, not punches. The dark spot on her jaw, however, was a different story.