Protecting What's Theirs (Line of Duty, #1.5)(11)

She let her fingers track slowly up her bare thighs, swaying gently to the music. A few interested glances were thrown in her direction, but for the most part, people were concentrated on their own dance partner. Good. She was just getting started.

Derek rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Ginger.”

Crooking a finger at him, she dipped her hips in time with the music. “Come here, Lieutenant.”

“Stop this now.” He took a step forward, spoke near her ear so she could hear him over the music. “I didn’t want to do this here…”

Desperation bloomed in Ginger’s chest. Oh God, he was going to break her heart right here and now? She’d had no time to prepare, even though she knew no amount of preparation would soften the blow. But…maybe she could delay it. She wanted, needed, to hinder the ax’s descent at all costs. Not yet. Not yet. She moved closer, molded her body to his. Feeling his rigid arousal boosted her confidence. Ginger twined her arms around his neck, circled her hips against his, heard him groan. She closed her eyes and let their time together blur into a series of erotic images. Allowed herself to want him. As if she ever had a choice in the first place. Since he was challenging her own, she tapped into his pride, knowing it would have a devastating effect on him. He would never be able to resist it. And she meant every word.

“Derek. I was so lonely this week without you.” She dragged her fingernails down his chest, opened her mouth on his throat. “You left me unsatisfied in our bed. I needed you, but you didn’t come to me. I ached. And you weren’t there.”

His chest rumbled with a near-violent growl. “Stop it.”

She turned methodically, undulating as she danced. Her bottom brushed strategically against his arousal and his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. To prevent her or encourage her, she couldn’t tell. Ginger was starting to wonder who was seducing whom when a sharp, blistering tug in her belly nearly buckled her knees. It had been too long. Her body was needy for his.

No. Attempting to retain focus, she shook herself. Tried to fight through the need. She pushed a button she knew would send him past his breaking point. “I wore this costume for a reason. I knew you’d hate it. Knew you’d show me how much you hate it.”

Another deep groan. “Did you want to feel my displeasure?” Derek’s fingers brushed down her naked stomach, inched slightly lower. Ginger was grateful for the near-darkness. She knew her face was flushed, her nipples pouting from their need to be touched.

“Yes. I want to feel your displeasure now.”

His hand circled her wrist, unrelenting as steel. Before she could judge his intention, he pulled her from the living room and down a hallway, his stride sure and purposeful. He led her into a dim room. A home office, Ginger registered absently, then she could think no more. Derek whirled her around and his mouth came down on hers. His lips, tongue, and breath were familiar counterpoints to her own that had become vital to her survival. She immediately went under a tidal wave of hot, unrelenting desire. Even with uncertainty swirling around them, his touch grounded her immediately. She resented it even as she let it consume her. Drag her into its depths.

She sucked in a breath when his hands gripped her bottom and hitched her high on his body. Craving contact with him, Ginger locked her legs at the small of his back, crying out when he set her down on a low file cabinet and ground himself against her in a rough, urgent move. Her thin panties were almost nonexistent as they encountered the stiff material of his uniform pants, molded around his erection.

“How hard do you want to be f*cked?”

Letting her thighs fall open, she whimpered. “No holding back this time. I don’t want your mouth or your fingers. Not like last time. Give me what I deserve.”

His green eyes lit with a dangerous fire. Ginger knew she’d found his limit. Not only had she told him he’d left her unfulfilled in their bed in his absence, she’d implied their last encounter hadn’t satisfied her. It wasn’t the truth, not remotely, but he reacted in the way she wanted. Needed. In one swift movement, he yanked her off the cabinet, whirled her around and bent her over. Her panties turned to rags in his hand as he rent them from her body. She threw her head back in reckless anticipation as his palm came down hard on her ass in a serious of stinging blows. Each time his hand connected with her backside, a groan issued from his throat, driving her wild in the knowledge that his need matched her own.

“Enjoy it, baby. You f*cking begged for it, didn’t you? Do you enjoy wielding your power over me? You like turning me into an animal? Crazed to f*ck?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Good. Except now it’s my turn.” Slap. Slap. “And you’ve put me in a bad motherf*cking mood, Ginger. I’m not going to stop pounding until the shape of my cock permanently exists inside of you. Until you can’t move an inch without feeling me. Now, say my goddamn name.”

He thrust into her with such force, Ginger screamed his name at the top of her lungs. Thankfully, the music drowned out her cries, because they didn’t cease. Derek drove into her, relentless in his assault. Beneath her, the file cabinet scraped along the ground, propelling them forward until it wedged securely against the wall. Shameless, desperate, she spread her legs, lifted her ass. Her forehead connected with the wall and pressed into its dense surface, eyes squeezed tightly shut as the exquisite pressure built.