Special Agent Caitlyn Ross was in trouble ... melting yet again from the feel of strong masculine lips against her neck, the scent of whisky and cheap cologne mixed with pure testosterone entirely too potent for this time of night.

"Luke, you promised it would be strictly business from now on," Cait lamented, attempting to push her six foot one inch supervisor back across the back corner booth of Corcoran's Tavern.

"What makes you think I don't mean business?" Agent-In-Charge Lucas Dumont moved himself that much closer. "I'm going to fuck you till you scream for mercy, then I'm going to start all over again."

To show it was more than mere bluff, Luke's hand moved possessively to her thigh, sliding up under the hem of her ill-protecting gray tweed skirt. Cait felt her insides turn instantly to jelly. As usual, her body was not cooperating.

"Luke, please," she clawed at his fingers. "I'm tired. And I have to get up early."

"Don't tell me you're gonna be a dick tease," he flicked open the top button of her starched white blouse worn ever so neatly under the conservative blazer.

Cait squirmed as his fingers went to work, sending silent messages up and down her spine. They were sexy, surrender messages and they both knew it. "I'm not trying to do anything," she protested. "I just want to go home."

"Sit still, Caitlyn. Hands on the table, and that's an order."

Oh, god. He was using that tone with her. The one that always made her totally wet and horny and needy. All this was her own fault. She should never have agreed to come here for drinks with this man, no matter what he'd said about turning over a new leaf. What was she thinking? Their encounters always led to sex, no matter where she intended it to go.

And not just regular sex, either, but the perverted kind, with her turning over all her bodily rights and freedoms in exchange for being treated with all the unadulterated flair of a twenty-dollar hooker with no other purpose than meeting his every desire.

"But, Luke, people will see," she protested, clamping her fingers to the edge of the wooden booth. If only this kind of degradation didn't turn her on so much deep inside...

Luke undid another button, baring the bulk of her cleavage to the top of her white lace bra. "That's your problem, Agent Ross. Now spread your legs and let's see if you're nice and wet for me like a good little girl."

Caitlyn's pussy flooded in response. She hated herself for the power he had over her, the way she turned into a wanton slut for him, each and every time.

"You did a hell of a job on the Draco case," he ran his tongue round the edge of her delicate earlobe. "That's one son of a bitch who'll never see the light of day."

"T-thank you," she responded to her boss' praise, even as his fingers moved under the waistband of her frilly lace panties.

"You're shaping up to be a damned fine agent, Ross."

She certainly didn't feel like much of one now, thighs splayed, her body flush and molten hot as the man's finger flicked across her swollen clit.

"Do you have any idea what they'd do to you?" she shivered, "if they found you fucking a subordinate?"

"That's what makes it so hot, sweetheart. Now how about we go back to my place and you can subordinate yourself for me a little more?"

"Baby, please," she wheedled. "I really am exhausted. I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I'll be extra good, I promise. You can come in my mouth while you're doing your morning teleconference to Washington. You know how much you like that." She hated to beg like this, but sometimes it was the only way.

Luke stroked her cheek. "Do you have any idea what a totally hot and darling little piece you are? All right, have it your way. A quickie in the alley out back and then you can go home and get your beauty rest. You'll need it."

Cait's heart skipped like a rabbit's. He'd never even hinted at anything like this before. "The alley? You're not serious, Luke?"

"Serious as a Tac One Alert, honey. No ifs, ands or buts. Either you put out in the alley or you'll take care of business right here."

Caitlyn imagined herself on the floor, on her knees under the booth, sucking her boss' dick in a crowded bar.

"Okay, Luke, you win,"

Agent-In-Charge Dumont put his come soaked finger to her lips. "That's my girl. Always ready to take one for the team."

Cait blushed bright red she sucked his finger clean the way he liked her to. It was a reflex by now. A trained response. Sometimes it scared her what a man like Luke could do to her mind and her body. An aggressive kick ass agent by profession, she'd always had a tendency toward soft, femininity in her relationships with men.

Even as a teenager, pretty, dark haired Caity had liked her bad boys, motor cycle riders and gang bangers who knew what they wanted from a girl and frequently took it on their own terms. Her older sister Celia and their mother had chided her tastes but there was no explaining or changing such things.

Maybe she was looking for the image of her runaway, bank robber father to love or maybe it was just genetics. At sixteen she was already in with the wrong crowd, giving money, hiding places and alibis to a host of juvenile delinquents. On her eighteenth birthday her virginity was taken by her gang leader boyfriend, who subsequently passed her to five of his friends. The next summer she ran off with him, barely escaping arrest three months later for a series of convenience store smash and grabs. It was a tough lesson, but she'd come out all the stronger.

Thanks to a hard-nosed but determined female detective who'd taken an interest, Caitlyn had been given a second chance that eventually led her through college and into the agency academy. The long hours of study and requirements of training kept her mind mostly off men. She hoped it was a permanent change but on her very first posting as a full fledged agent, she learned there was a whole new breed of gun toting mavericks every bit as sexually arousing and horny as the criminals she once loved, if not more so.

Cait acquired a reputation in the agency as an easy lay, one that was not entirely unfounded. The word out to new male agents was that all you had to do was corner the sexy female, show her your piece and she was yours. The time Caitlyn was discovered on her knees in the impound room with a visiting DEA agent's dick in her mouth there'd been such an uproar she had to be transferred to another city.

Luke Dumont had put a stop to all that. Though they weren't officially involved, he'd staked his claim, putting hard and fast limits on her behavior-not to mention on her curvaceous, sleek body.

There were days she feared he might take more, her heart included. Which is why she'd tried to put a stop to their liaison. He'd agreed readily just three days ago, but now it seemed he had an entirely new game in mind.

Luke Dumont. Master of the mind fuck.

"I'm going to take you in the ass," he leaned forward, a deceptive lover's smile on his face.

"Yes, Luke," replied her traitorous, bitch slut lips-lips that ought to be telling him to go straight to hell.

"Let's go," he took her hand, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

Corcoran's Tavern had a wonderful alley behind it. Long and dark and properly dank. Sometimes winos slept there and sometimes there were drug deals. But Luke had a nine-millimeter pistol and he was single minded and fixated.

"Get your skirt up and lose the panties," he ordered, pushing her midway down the narrow passageway.

His face was framed by moonlight, lending him an eerie, dangerous look.

"Luke, you can't mean this."

He unbuckled his belt, slipping it from the loops. "Do it, Caity, or I swear, I'll give you the beating of your life."

Caitlyn swooned. Would he really take a belt to her-whip her like a dog? The thought was outrageous, horrifying, but at the same time, strangely erotic, too.

"All right, Luke, just give me a minute."

"You had a minute already." Luke grabbed her arm and spun her, face forward against the wall. "Brace yourself."

Her pulse raced as he took charge, giving her no option but to press her palms to the rough bricks. Luke whipped up her skirt and now he was tearing at the waistband of her panties. She gasped as the fine, feminine material gave way. She was completely exposed, for one and all to see, and for him to do as he willed.

"Luke, we can go to your apartment," she bargained desperately. "I'll do anything you say."

"What you're going to do, Cait," he shoved a finger rudely up her anus, "is tell me how very sorry you are for being a disobedient, stuck-up little bitch and then you are going to beg me to fuck you in the ass, right here and now to teach you a lesson."

"No," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Not like that."

The belt whistled through the air landing with a crack on Caitlyn's bare, quivering flesh. The harsh, brutal sting of leather combined with the sharp tinge of humiliation brought tears to her eyes.

"Wrong answer," he informed her. "Try again."

"I--I'm s--sorry," she breathed, caught up in the barbaric submission of it all. "For being ... disobedient ... and a stuck up little bitch ... teach me a lesson ... take me ... in my ... ass."

"My pleasure, sweetheart."

Cait couldn't believe it was real. They'd only done this act once before, and that had been in the privacy of a hotel room. But there was no denying the grip of his hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place, or the thousand other sensations rushing through her brain as her boss prepared to violate her.

"Feel that?" Dumont scooped his fingers inside her pussy to retrieve the evidence before getting down to business. "This shit gets you off, doesn't it? You like being abused like a dirty whore."

"Oh, god," she groaned. "Oh, Luke."