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He refused to make any noise. She wanted him to cry out, though he was mystified as to how she'd be able to separate any sound he could make from the humming music of the club around them. He'd been at her mercy for too long, and he would take any win, no matter how small, in their ongoing war.
She was too off-limits. Having a woman he was so opposed to this close and dressed for sex worked at cross-purposes to his rebellion. He wanted her out of his sight, but only if that meant they were going at it with the lights off. He tried to control his arousal, but the evidence of how she affected him was painfully obvious in the constriction of his fly. His cock ached, throbbed with the depth of his racing heartbeat.
His arm muscles ached slightlyhis restraints held his arms above his head. The leather around his wrists was loose enough that he could let his cuffs fall around his forearms if he stood on tiptoe. This let him wrap his fingers around the tethers they connected to, to brace for what was next. Holding out on responding gave him a measure of control, but gained him another crack of the crop. The pain was sharp, but he'd suffered worse.
"I asked you a question."
Cameron gritted his teeth and tensed when she came so close behind him that he could feel the press of her corseted breasts into his bare back. A nice side benefit of having to drag her along on this case was that their sessions gave him the most vivid sexual dreams he'd ever suffered through. Damn, it was hot in here.
He didn't feel like the woman brandishing a riding crop at him was his superior. The crop came up and over, settled against his throat. "There are people watching us." Her voice was so soft that he had trouble hearing her, but it still made him wince when she broke cover out in the open. He nodded, tamped down on the rebellion raring up inside himhe needed this cover to remain a solid one, and they'd spent weeks establishing it. Tonight was their first time on one of Club Limit's three center platform stages, all lit for show, 360-degree round for maximum viewing pleasure.
So he dropped his head, fell back onto his heels and committed to the job. He breathed deep, let his arms go slack, widened his legs and pushed his hips outward to emphasize the effect she was having on him. Because he was a good cop. Not because she looked so damned good in the corset. Not because he was protecting a green partner. Not because every nerve in his body was screaming for the friction of her fingers, her mouth, her slick, hot pussy.
A trickle of sweat ran down his temple, rolled from his jaw and dispersed into the fine sheen that already coated his bare chest. She skated a hand up over his damp stomach and undid the button of his jeans.
Because he was a good cop.