She dug her fingers into Mitch’s hair, hauling him closer, spreading her legs wider. Mitch’s big hands slid up the back of her legs until they gripped her ass, kneading and squeezing her while his tongue continued to work her pussy.

Eyes sliding shut, Sissy felt the sensations wash over her. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything this good, anything that had the ability to make her feel like she could simply relax and let him do whatever he wanted…

Sissy’s eyes snapped open, and she wrenched away from Mitch. What was she doing? She knew her rules…boundaries. There always had to be boundaries. But when he looked up at her with nothing but concern and her juices on that handsome face, she felt a little more panic dig in, and her boundaries began to slip away.

Unwilling to let it go, Sissy did what she always did so well. She took control.

“Up,” she ordered, grabbing Mitch by the hair and lifting. He went with her and let her shove him back on the couch. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she reached for the button fly of his jeans. Once it opened, she gripped the worn denim and the soft cotton boxers underneath and pulled, grunting at him to raise his hips. He did, and she dragged the jeans down and off.

With him completely naked, Sissy gave herself a moment to stare at the perfection in front of her. All that power wrapped up in one golden package with a cock that could choke a rhino.

Placing her hands on his legs, Sissy started at the knees and slid her palms across the hard, muscular flesh. Raising herself up a bit, she leaned in, her lips grazing his inner thigh, followed by her tongue. She reached his cock, which had grown deliciously harder and thicker in the last few seconds.

Gently, she stroked her tongue against each vein and ridge, circling the head before tracing her steps back down. He growled low, and she knew she was pushing the cat. She didn’t care. At this very moment, she had complete control of him and his cock—nothing could be sweeter.

Sissy wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, her tongue licking off the pre-cum while she sucked. Mitch hissed between his teeth, and Sissy took hold of his balls, squeezing at the same time she swallowed him whole.

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit.

Other than that, Mitch was pretty much beyond basic thought. Sissy had wiped his mind clean. His ability to reason or plan or fuck with people’s lives had been momentarily dissolved with the use of her wicked mouth.

Since it had been a while since he’d trusted a woman enough to have her in his bed, it wouldn’t take much more to have him blow. But this wasn’t any woman. This was “wicked smile” Sissy. He didn’t realize until this moment how long he’d been fighting his attraction to her. How much he’d wanted her. And now he had her—and she was sucking his brain cells right out of his head.

Groaning, Mitch dug his hands into Sissy’s hairand pulled her in close. He held her tight against him and let the power of a long overdue orgasm tear through him and straight into her mouth.

Sissy gripped his thighs, her mouth wrapped tight around his cock, swallowing and sucking the come from his body. He jerked three times before he finished coming and let out that sigh of utter relief and delight.

Panting, he dropped back against the couch. He let go of Sissy’s hair, and she let go of his cock.

She relaxed back, her ass resting on her heels, her thumb wiping the corners of her mouth.

If she was pissed he’d come in her mouth without warning, she didn’t show it. In fact, Sissy Mae looked pretty damn cocky at the moment. Not that she didn’t have a right to be, but there was something else there. Something Mitch couldn’t quite put his finger on.

She began to speak, and Mitch held up a finger. “Give me a minute,” he said, cutting her off.

She shrugged and sat Indian style on the floor.

Mitch pushed his hands through his hair, the sweat keeping it off his face, and he continued to watch Sissy through half-closed lids.

It took him a good minute, but it suddenly occurred to him what that expression on her face was—control. She thought she had it.

He’d seen the same look on the faces of pimps they had absolutely no evidence against or murder suspects who believed they’d successfully hidden the body somewhere.

True, the level of blow job he’d just received probably did make most men her slave until she’d gotten bored with them.

He knew her logic, too. If she kept control of him, she could keep control of herself. She’d be wild enough in bed to keep it interesting and him coming back for more, but her heart would never truly be in it. She’d never truly be in it. And why the hell would he want that? He could get meaningless fucks from anybody. He could definitely get them from females who were a hell of a lot less dangerous to his mental health than Sissy Mae Smith.

No, no. That wouldn’t work for him. Even if this thing lasted only until the sun came up, he wanted all of her in those few hours. And he’d have all of her, too.

Mitch sat up, his elbows resting against his knees, and then he simply stared at her. Stared at her until her smug smile faded and she began to look a little nervous. Ahh. The wonderful benefits of being a cop.

“What?” she finally asked, her legs rising up until her knees rested together and her arms wrapped around her calves. In one move, she’d completely blocked herself off from him.

“You wet?”

Sissy snorted. “Most of the time.”

Christ, what a match. They had to be two of the horniest people on the planet. When motivated, Mitch could literally go all night. But whatever bullshit women might say to their friends, they were not always down with that.