Page 25 of Judge’s Redemption

Judge goes still. I push him backward until his knees meet the bed. He sits, watching me with dark, hungry eyes as I pull his shirt over his head and let my hands travel down his chest.

His body is harder than I remember, broader through the shoulders, every line built from work, violence and control.

He reaches for my waist. “No, hands behind you,” I say.

One dark eyebrow lifts. “I’m in charge now.” I tell him.

A rough smile touches his mouth. Then he plants both hands on the mattress behind him.

The obedience heats me more than any order could.

I strip off the borrowed shirt and stand between his knees in my bra and panties. Judge's gaze moves over me without apology.

“You're staring again.”

“I told you I would.”

I unfasten my bra and let it fall.

His fingers flex against the bed, but he keeps them where I put them while I open his belt and jeans. His cock is already hard when I free him, hot and heavy in my hand.

Judge exhales through his teeth. “Still want to take control?” I ask.

“Every second.”

I stroke him slowly, watching restraint tighten every muscle in his body. I push his jeans lower, then step out of my panties and climb onto his lap. His hands leave the mattress long enough to catch my hips.

I shake my head and with a curse, he puts them back.

I kiss him, slow and deep, then reach between us and guide him to me. Judge's entire body locks as I sink onto him.

The stretch is deep enough to steal my breath. I stop with him buried inside me and press my forehead to his.

“Fuck,” he says, the word barely controlled and then I move.

At first, I take him slowly, lifting and sinking while his eyes stay fixed on mine. Every sound he makes proves how much it costs him to let me. His mouth finds my breast as I arch away from him. The first pull of his lips sends pleasure tightening low in my belly.

“You said no hands,” he murmurs against my skin.

“I didn't say anything about your mouth.” His laugh is dark and brief. Then he takes my nipple deeper, tongue circling until my rhythm breaks. I grip his shoulders and ride him harder.

Judge's hands curl into the bedding. His control is beautiful and terrible, written in the strain of his forearms and the roughness of every breath.

“This what you wanted?” he asks.

“Yes.” I pant.

“Then take it.”

The pressure builds with every downward roll of my hips. His mouth moves from one breast to the other, teeth catching just enough to make me gasp. When I reach between us, Judge's gaze drops to my hand.

“Eyes on me,” I tell him and dutifully, they snap back to mine.

I circle my clit while I move over him, pleasure gathering faster now. Judge's jaw clenches. His hips begin to rise beneath me despite the control I'm demanding.

He makes a broken sound.

The orgasm hits suddenly, pulling a cry from me as I tighten around him. Judge's hands leave the bed at last. He catches my hips and drives up hard, holding me in place while the pleasure tears through me.