Chapter 29

Too much. Too much.

I set her down on the counter as pain shoots through my side. I pat the top of the bandage through my shirt to check for blood, worried I popped a stitch. Leave it to me to forget about my stitches to get laid.

"Are you OK, Liam?" she asks, running her hands through my hair. As long as I can have those hands on me, I'll be fine.

"Just a little pain. I forgot about my side." I lift my t-shirt up, and she gasps. She can't even see the wound – only the bandage covering it.

Her fingers trace the perimeter of the cloth, and a sad look comes over her face. "Do I need to kiss it to make it feel better?" she asks in a whisper.

"Yes," I whisper back. "But other parts also hurt."

She bites her lip and smiles. "What other parts are those, Officer Lane?"

I grasp her hand and slide it down to my dick that's already at stiff attention and wanting to play. I haven't had an erection since the bust because of the medication or the emotional trauma, but seeing her in person removes all of that bullshit from my mind.

She's here, and that's all that matters.

I stand between her legs as she sits on the counter, her warmth against my waist. "It's a shame you're hard. I'm not sure if we should be doing anything with you in a neck brace and bandaged all to hell."

"What's the matter?" I ask, kissing the tip of her nose. "You never get fucked by a guy in a neck brace?"

"There's a first time for everything. But, seriously…" She trails off and moves my t-shirt aside to look at the smaller bandage on my shoulder. "I'm not sure how I won't hurt you."

"We have to be gentle and not go at it like we really want."

"I thought Liam Lane didn't fuck gentle. You fuck hard or you don't fuck." Her eyes taunt me, and she grins.

My hand comes to her hair, fisting it and pulling it back a little, delighting in watching her mouth open as she leans into the hair pull. "If you make sure you don't push your leg into my side, you can take a ride tonight while I play the sick hospital patient."

She slides off the counter, grabs my hand, and walks to her room. Bogey tags along behind us, yipping and prancing like his favorite people are going off to play with him.

Oh, I'm going to play, but I'm only playing with his mom tonight. He only whimpers a little when I shut the bedroom door.

Lorelei's already pulling her white shirt over her head and shaking her hair around her shoulders. "Where do you want me?" she asks.

I take off my own shirt and pants in silence before climbing onto the soft bed and doing a quick bandage check. She waits patiently at the end of the bed as I get comfortable and remove the pillow from under me. It doesn't feel good against the back of my neck.

"Why don't you have a seat right here," I say, pointing to my thighs.

She climbs onto the bed so that I can feel her warm breath on my leg. I startle when she places a kiss on each knee, and she slowly moves up until she places one tiny kiss on the head of my cock. "Don't you want me to sit here?" she asks, leering at me.

"Not right now. I want you to sit on my lap and show me how you work yourself." Her head tilts to the side like she doesn't understand the direction, so I fist her hair and look into her eyes. "I want to watch."

I half expect her to argue with me, but she silently moves into the requested position and sits on me, her slit a hairsbreadth from my balls. I twitch at the proximity, but I want to draw this out.

"You want to watch me masturbate for you?"

"You say you've thought about me. I want to see how you've thought about me."

"What makes you think I rubbed off to you?" she asks, a challenging grin on her face.

"Because I sure as shit have rubbed off to you, and I think you've done the same, sweetheart."

"Show me," she says, her voice icy.

"You want me to show you how I've worked this dick to the mere idea of us being in the same room?"

She runs her hands down my hips, and I almost come from the feel of her hands in such a private place. Touching me like we know each other fully.

Intimate.

"Yes," she says. "And I want to learn how you touch yourself so I can do it for you whenever you want."

"Whenever I want, huh?" I ask, bringing my hand to my cock and gripping it firmly. I look down at it, and her eyes follow. "Can I get some help?"

She reaches for it, and I playfully slap her hand away. "Not that help. You have other things to do with your hand, Ms. Rogers." I nod at her glistening slit. Fuck, she wants me. "Spit on it for me."

"You are a filthy mother fucker."

I smile and squeeze her leg. "Get used to it."

She pushes herself down and leans over my dick with a look that I'm not sure is disdain or appreciation that I can be as naughty as the guys in her books.

She makes eye contact with me – defiantly not blinking – and spits down my length before running her tongue up the underside of my dick to blend the spit. "Happy?" she asks, getting back into position and moving two fingers to her clit.

"Fucking ecstatic," I breathe, working my hand up my cock.

I would usually close my eyes as I work my dick, but I watch her as intensely as she's watching me. I want to put on a good show, so I grip my cock hard and run my hand over my cock until the head slides through my palm with a wet sound. I'd normally be embarrassed, but it's her spit that got me here.

She works her hand over her clit and grinds into my lap, her head thrown back. A slight moan comes from her as she rocks against me. "I could listen to you moan like that forever," I whisper as I buck up into my fist.

"Promise?"

"I want to be the only person you moan for, Lorelei. Forever. No one else between us. Just us." I jerk my cock harder. Fuck, just looking at her is getting me there. Just watching her long fingers toy with her clit and watching her breasts move as her breathing quickens makes me want to explode. If I wasn't bandaged, I'd curl up and take her nipples between my teeth and flick my tongue over them until they were hard enough to cut glass.

I'm going to be a gentleman and wait for her, though.

I can be patient, but it feels like an eternity before her thighs clench around me in desperation. She shifts until she makes contact with the tip of my dick, humping me if she can't have me for real. She leans forward and grips my pectorals, riding into me as she moans my name and shatters around me, her hair spilling forward until it covers her face.

As soon as her thighs stop shaking, I stroke her hips. "Want to get on now?"

I don't have to tell her twice. She grips the base of my cock and impales herself on it in one stroke. Both of us whimper and swivel our hips into each other.

I grip the pillow at my side and arch into the pleasure. My side pinches a little, and I stop before I get to a full arch. My neck throbs at the movement at my neck, but I don't fucking care.

I don't care about the pain of my injuries. I only care about the ecstasy of her pussy milking my dick for all it's worth. She's gentle with her hands and watches where she puts her legs, but she squeezes her muscles around me and rocks down on me hard until I can't go any further inside of her. My balls tighten, and my vision blurs. I can't hear anything but the squeak of her bed, the wetness between us, and our skin moving against each other.

"Is my big, tough officer of the law putty in my hands?"

"Fuck yes, Lorelei. You can do whatever you want with me right now. If you want to off me forever, now's the time because I won't care if this is how I go."

I moan, not even caring when she reaches forward and moves a pillow under my hips. It's not the most comfortable position in the world, and I have no idea what this crazy, dirty woman has in mind. But I couldn't care less as long as it feels good.

I don't care one bit as she reaches around my ass cheek and slides that finger into the place she knows I like and rides my dick to fucking glory.

This woman is mine. Weed truck and all.