Prisoner (Criminals & Captives #1)(69)

She thinks it’s funny that I know what the Dewey decimal system is. Yeah, I never went to school. The first and last grade I took was kindergarten, but I used the prison library.

I play along. “What system do they use then?”

“The Library of Congress,” she says matter-of-factly. “It’s better for physical items of varying shapes and sizes. Things with artifacts—or even instruments. Music libraries often—”

“Hang on.” Shit, she’s so earnest about this. It makes me hot. I glance around, but of course we’re alone. Maybe I’m not good enough—not like one of her college boys. It doesn’t stop me.

I put down the binder and back her up against the wall. Her eyes widen.

She knows what’s coming.

She wasn’t expecting this, and her shock just feeds my lust. My dick is pressing against my jeans. My dick has a lot of ego. It thinks it can burst through denim and shove up into her skirt and thrust right into her slick, warm cunt. It has the right idea.

I run my finger along her cheek. “I like it when you talk classification,” I murmur.

She laughs, a little self-conscious. I like that too. I’m so f*cking hard I’m hurting. I’ve always had a thing for smart chicks. Forbidden, somehow. But Abby is mine.

“Keep going,” I say. “What’s another kind?”

And then I lick her neck, from the base of her jaw down to her collarbone. She tastes like salt and outdoors and arousal. She sucks in a breath and tries to talk. “The United Nations…”

I bite down on the curve where her neck meets her shoulder. “Keep going,” I murmur.

“The United Nations symbols are printed on the upper right-hand corner. Not the spine—” Her words cut off on a gasp. Probably because I cup her breast through her shirt. I love the weight of it, the feminine softness as I caress her. But it’s not enough.

So I unbutton her shirt, baring her breasts to the cool, dusty air. “Tell me more.”

She lets out a little sob, and even that turns me on. I want to hear her talk about systems and symbols. I want to hear her cry and moan and beg for me. I want to hear every sound she can make, and I’m going to help her get there.

Fuck it. I don’t need to be a better man. I don’t need to be more. I’m in charge here.

I find her nipple through the lace of her bra and pinch. A sharp noise this time. I rub my groin along her hip, needing friction.

“More.”

A breath shudders out of her, but she’s a good girl. She’s obedient. That’s why she works so well for me. She’s spent her whole life teaching herself to obey. “The first segment…and sometimes the second…identifies the issuing body.”

I laugh under my breath. “You’re making that up.”

“I’m not!” She sounds a little breathless. “I wouldn’t joke about—about—”

But then she shuts up because I’ve found her nipple with my tongue. There’s still lace between us, but it’s damp now with my saliva. I could just as easily push the fabric aside, or rip it apart, but I like this roughness. That’s the thing about lace. It looks so pretty and delicate—like Abby. But the way it feels? It’s rough. I use it like sandpaper, running it over her nipple, listening to her suck in a breath.

“I’ve got your issuing body right here,” I say, even though it’s cheesy. I’m too worked up to give a crap. Plus I still think she might have been f*cking with me. Issuing body? It’s like she f*cking wants to suck my dick. And she goes willingly enough when I grab her hair and shove her to the floor.

Her eyes are dark mysteries, staring up at me.

I let go and run my thumb along her lip. “You want this, baby?”

I tense up. Why did I ask that? It shouldn’t matter to me what she wants, but it does. I want her to need us the way I do.

She looks up at me, and I have no idea what her answer will be. The scary part is, I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no. Let her go? I can’t—she’s mine.

But there’s this new thing going on in my head where I’m not sure I can f*ck her mouth if she doesn’t want it. I’m not sure I can use the soft palate of her mouth to jerk off. Not sure I can come all over her face unless she tells me it’s okay.

A little f*cked up, but there it is.

She licks her lips, and I realize she’s not going to answer at all. Instead her hands go to my jeans, unzipping and pulling me out. I shudder at the feel of her soft, small hands. God, those hands. I could come just like this. A few solid strokes.

She leans forward, and I hold my breath. Her lips press together. She kisses the tip of my cock. Kisses it. Like she’s f*cking courting it or something. I almost come.

“The issuing bodies can be the general assembly,” she says in her prim teacher tone. Then she licks the slit of my cock.

“Shit.” I jerk my hips forward. The only way I keep from coming is by grabbing her head. I fist her hair in my hands until she winces.

“Or the economic and social council.” She takes my cock in her mouth this time, pushing it deep before releasing me again. She thrusts on my dick a few times before I take over. I grab hold of her hair and f*ck her face, going deeper than she let me on her own.

When she pulls away, I let her. It feels like my balls are about to explode, but I f*cking let her back away.