My breath hitches, and I slide one finger inside my pussy, feeling how wet I am, how close to the edge. I’m nearing it, about to climax…
When Damon grabs my hands and pins them behind me in a single fist. I gasp in protest at first, but that quickly shifts into a long, drawn-out moan as he pulls me forward, onto his lap, and presses his cock against my pussy once more. This time he doesn’t tease. He’s too hungry for me. The same way I ache for him.
He pushes the tip of his cock between my lips, thrusting into my pussy inch by inch. I cry out at the sensation of him filling me so completely, stretching my walls wide as they accommodate his girth. He doesn’t stop drawing me down onto him until he’s fully inside me, his cock buried deep in my pussy. My clit, already swollen with want from both my ministrations and his, presses against his hip bones when I lean forward, and sets off a wildfire in my nerves.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me, you dirty girl.”
It doesn’t take long, with him thrusting up into me, and pulling me down against him at the same time, for that pressure to build toward a peak. Damon starts to move faster, fucking me harder, and I gasp and twist against him as his cock thrusts deep into me with each motion. He tilts his hips, angles himself so the head of his cock drags against my front inner wall, and with one last cry, I start to come, twisting on top of him.
But Damon is far from finished with me.
“God you’re so sexy when you scream.” He reaches up to yank off my dress, his fingers deftly undoing my bra before I can move. It falls between us, and he tosses it aside with a growl. He lifts both hands to grip my breasts and leans in to circle his tongue around first one nipple, then the other, making them harden beneath his warm, wet mouth. He bites down gently on my breast, just below the nipple, and I gasp at the mingled sensations of pain and pleasure. “I’m going to make you come over and over, until you can’t even think straight…”
He keeps thrusting into me, so hard it makes my breasts bounce against his face, and with his other hand, he caresses my mound, thumb just barely grazing my sensitive clit, though pressing hard enough to make me come again before I can even catch my breath from the first orgasm.
“That’s it, dirty girl. Come again for me, come hard…”
I lose count of how many times I come on top of him, caught between the sensations of his cock thrusting over my G-spot and his fingers caressing my clit. The orgasms blend together into one hot rush of pleasure in my memory, and then, eventually, I feel Damon start to tense under me. I arch my back and rock my hips against him harder, as he nears his own peak. He comes with a growl, his hot juices coating my pussy, dripping down my legs onto his thighs, and making us both gasp.
“Fuck, you were hungry,” I murmur into his neck with a faint laugh. He grins and nips my ear, then kisses his way along my jawline to catch my mouth in another long, slow, burning hot kiss.
“For you? Always.” His dark eyes snag mine as he says that, promising that he means it with every fiber of his being.
At that moment, someone knocks on the now thoroughly fogged windows. I gasp and grab for my shirt, while he laughs and shields me with his body, pulling me tight against him.
“Come on, what did I ask you two to do?” calls the prison guard through the window, though at least he has the decency not to wipe away the fog. “Get a room, not a ticket in this parking lot.”
We both laugh faintly, and Damon gazes down at my face with a sly smile. “Well, this is familiar.”
“We’re starting to make a habit of getting caught at this, aren’t we?” I grin back, and pull my dress on, trying to turn my mess of a body into some semblance of normalcy, for at least as long as it will take me to drive him home with me.
By the time I slide back into the driver’s seat and wipe the fog clear from the windows, the guard is back at his post, though he eyes us across the lot with a narrowed glare. I wave cheerfully as we pull out of the parking lot, and I swear I catch him rolling his eyes in the rearview as we pull away.
“One question,” Damon asks, as we reach the stoplight down at the bottom of the prison exit.
I expect him to ask where we’re going, or what the plan is. The truth is, right now I don’t have one. The police are still cleaning out Dad’s files, but they’ve finished with the bedroom wing at least, and told me I can continue staying there as long as I don’t interfere with their investigation in the rest of the house—which I have no intention of doing, clearly. The more dirt they can find on my father, the better. He deserves to spend the rest of his miserable life behind bars for what he’s done.
So my loose plan was, take Damon home. The rest, we can figure out from there. Together. At least, that’s what I’m thinking. I don’t know that he’s thinking the same.
So I tighten my fists on the steering wheel, prepared for whatever he’s about to ask me.
But all Damon says is, “What happened to the money?”
My mouth quirks a little into a faint smile. “I gave it to Mrs. Brown,” I say. Then I cast a sideways glance at him, nervous again. “Was that wrong?”
But he’s smiling wider than ever now, relief evident in his eyes. “No, Ashley.” He catches one of my hands, draws it off the steering wheel so he can kiss the back of my hand. Then he spreads my fingers, turns it over and kisses my palm too. “That’s perfect. It’s exactly what I would have done.”
I smile and relax into the seat. “Good. Now, about tonight. I was thinking…”
“Would you mind if I stayed with you?” Damon blurts, before I can even propose it.
I laugh, any remaining tension I was still carrying flooding out of my shoulders. “I was just about to ask if you wanted to.”
“Of course I do. I’m with you, Ashley Marrón.” He tightens his grip on my hand, and I squeeze right back. “Wherever you want to lead, I’ll follow.”
We share one last grin before I pull onto the highway toward the house. “Then let’s go clean up our acts, Damon Tell.”
Epilogue
I pull up to the house in my squad car, and sit there for a moment to just stare. It’s been six months, yet part of me still can’t believe how complete of a 180 my life has taken since the day Ashley Marrón first sauntered into my jail cell.
We’re still living in Ashley’s father’s old house—though she’s gutted just about everything but the foundation to completely remake it in her own style. Now, instead of imposing guards out front, I’m greeted by Hop, our enormous golden retriever, straining at his leash to reach me as I climb out of the police car.
That’s right. I’m a cop now. Talk about a full role reversal. But once Ashley and I got my record expunged, and I sat down to talk with a career counselor about my options, the right fit was staring me right in the face. I knew the ugly side of life. I knew how bad things could get when you were down and out on your luck.
I knew the ugly side of the police force too, the guys who took it out on even the prisoners who were in for nonviolent crimes, just because they were angry at the system. And I knew how much of a difference I could make joining up—catching the real bad guys, men like Ashley’s father who believed they were above the law, and helping out the poor sods like I used to be, the nobodies who get caught in the middle of powerful men’s games.