Free Fatal Affair: 1 (Courthouse Connections) by Ann Jacobs Page B

those forbidden words to him as long as Bert’s threats of
ruining them both hung over her head. Then JD started to move and she couldn’t
think at all, only feel.
    His heat. The weight of his hard body on
hers, the exquisite way his cock stretched her pussy as he claimed her first
gently then harder, until the force of his thrusts made her tremble—this was
his statement of possession.
    Nothing about his claiming felt transient
or temporary. It had to be more than satisfying a primal urge, though that was
part of it. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held him to her as he
pounded into her, heading for the inevitable climax. She tightened her hold on
her lover, squeezed his pulsating cock, demanding…
    Oh God. As she felt him jerk inside her,
felt the scalding essence of him jet deep within her body, she came. Wave after
wave of sensation began in her core and claimed her one cell at the time until
she passed out from the pure ecstasy of it all.
     
    As JD lay in Lanie’s embrace, he sensed
that what she felt for him was way more than raw desire. Unless he was reading
her dead wrong, there was emotion deeper than just lust and casual affection in
her touch—in the tender look in her beautiful eyes whenever she met his gaze
and in dozens of small gestures that spoke more than words.
    He didn’t doubt that she wanted him,
considering she was a sensual lover who by her own admission had been tied
practically her whole adult life to a man who didn’t want a normal relationship
with her. What he didn’t understand was why, now that she’d taken steps toward
freeing herself from the slimy hypocrite of a politician, she wouldn’t cut him
clean out of her life.
    Her capitulation to help Winstead get
re-elected one last time galled JD. Hell, what really pissed him off was her
misguided loyalty to the senator at his expense. He wanted to take her to his
club, connect with her in front of friends and acquaintances. He wanted the
freedom to have her at his side at the professional events they both attended,
without making any effort to conceal their personal relationship. Hell, he
needed to incorporate her into his life so completely that there’d be no room
there for Senator Wayne Winstead or anybody else.
    Nobody—especially not Lanie, who had such a
capacity for love and loyalty—should have to live her life in a personal
relationship as cold and calculated as a legal contract. JD knew all about
those, having drafted enough of those sterile agreements to ensure specific
performance in ways that were advantageous to his clients. The difference was
that his clients were corporations, not living, breathing people.
    Fuck. If Lanie would leave it up to him, JD
would get her out of her slimy politician husband’s grasp once and for all. She
willingly submitted to him in bed. He wanted her to step back, put her life in
his hands and let him persuade Winstead and the manipulative bastard of a
campaign manager who pulled his strings that they should back off and let her
go in peace.
    He got the sense from Lanie that Winstead
was the puppet, Bert Davies the puppet-master in that disgusting duo. JD had
bested Davies before on behalf of various clients. He’d love to go after him on
a personal level with Lanie’s freedom as his pay.
    He didn’t notice until Lanie stirred in his
arms that he’d wound up his body as tight as a ball of string, thinking how
satisfying it would be to beat Winstead and Davies into bloody pulp. He hadn’t
exerted physical violence on anybody since his days on the football field but
he recognized that bloodlust in himself and sighed. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
    Then he rolled on top of her, clapped her
in the cuffs he’d softened before with his old neckties and proceeded to
dominate her, this time as roughly as he’d taken her gently moments ago.
     
    “I want you helpless to me, as helpless as
you seem to be toward the senator,” he muttered as he threaded ropes over the
rails on either