Rebel (The Renegades)

by Rebecca Yarros

  He flipped me over so fast I was shocked I didn’t have whiplash. With a quick motion, he lifted my weight with one arm and settled my head on the pillow as he rose above me. “My turn.”

  The sound of a zipper filled the quiet as he opened my dress, his eyes growing darker, his breath deeper with every inch of skin revealed. His gaze slid over my black lace bra, and he muttered something in Spanish, then past the matching panties until my entire dress lay open on either side of me.

  “Tell me you’re certain,” he begged as his hand ran from my throat, over the center of my bra, and down my stomach.

  “Is this where you tell me that this is my last opportunity to say stop? That after this you won’t be able to control yourself?” I half teased, half hoped he’d say yes.

  Instead he placed a hot, wet kiss between my breasts, then peeled the straps of my dress from my arms, waiting for me to arch so he could get the dress off entirely.

  “You read too many books.” He laughed, then stopped, kissing my neck.

  I groaned as he found my trigger point, wrapping one of my legs around his hips.

  He pulled back, then slid his hands down my thighs, over my knees, past my calves, until he slipped my heels off, throwing them to the floor. Then he traced a path up my leg, punctuating his words with kisses. “You can say stop at any moment, and I’ll listen. I’m never too far gone to do what’s best for you. That being said, God, I hope you don’t want me to stop.”

  He nipped gently at the skin of my inner thigh, and I whimpered as he soothed it with a kiss and a stroke of his tongue. My hips rolled, growing more restless with each passing moment.

  I wasn’t a prude; I’d thought about sex before. But this was nothing like the hurried, hard, union I’d pictured when I’d wondered what it would be like. I didn’t even have words for what this was, but I knew I wanted—needed—more.

  His breath blew over my panties a second before he placed a kiss to my lace-covered cleft, his nose lightly pushing so that the fabric brushed against my clit.

  I gasped, my fingers fisting in his hair.

  “Tell me you’re certain,” he repeated.

  “I’m certain.” I’d never been more certain about anything in my life.

  He backed away and stood, which brought me up on my elbows. Before I could ask if I’d said something wrong, he crossed the room toward his bag, that magnificent ass flexing with every movement.

  Suddenly the vision struck of me grasping onto that ass while he pushed inside me, and I nearly groaned from my own erotic thoughts.

  He pulled something out of his bag and returned to me, tossing a condom on the nightstand.

  “I’m on birth control, too,” I told him. “So we’re double protected.” Nothing was worse for a girl than an unpredictable cycle on circuit.

  “Good to know,” he told me, settling back between my thighs. Before I could take a full breath, he’d drawn my panties to the side and ran his tongue through my folds, then spread me and sucked at my clit.

  “Holy. Oh. My. God. Cruz!” I yelled, my hips bucking against him, seeking out his mouth. I smothered my yell, slamming my hand over my mouth.

  Cruz leaned up over me, blocking everything from my vision but him. As he licked my taste off his lips, he pulled my hand away. “Scream as loud as you want. I don’t give a fuck what the neighbors think.”

  He kissed me, long and hard, and by the time he pulled away, my legs moved restlessly against him. That sweet tension spiraled tight, the sensation its own desperate demand to be appeased.

  I lifted my hips when he met my eyes and dragged my panties down my legs until they joined my shoes on the floor. Then his lips were between my thighs, licking, sucking, kissing, never ceasing.

  My hips moved, riding against his mouth, chasing the high I knew he’d bring me to. My skin flushed as pleasure whipped through my body, building and weaving into something impossibly, gloriously tight and tense.

  His name was a plea on my lips as he worshipped me.

  “You taste incredible. I could stay here all night. Tomorrow, too,” he said, then continued his onslaught.

  My whimpers grew to full-blown moans as I gave over to the feelings coursing through me. I became pure sensation, my entire being focused on the incredible way he made me feel—like I was lighter than air and could fly away at any second, all while being anchored to the ground by his hands, his mouth.

  When his fingers entered me, stretched me, my hips changed their rhythm to meet him, relishing in the full pressure, the slight burn.

  “God, you’re so tight, Penelope. I can’t wait to be inside you, to feel you ripple on my cock when you come.”

  Whether it was what he said or the way he stroked my inner walls, he had me mindless with the combination of overwhelming pleasure and stark need.

  My muscles locked, then quaked as his perfect fingers sent me over the edge. I screamed his name as the orgasm took me, rocking through me in waves of bliss. When I came back down, I was limp, boneless, and I was sure my weak, sated smile had nothing on Cruz’s. He looked like he’d swallowed the sun.

  He kissed me, settling a portion of his weight on me, and as I arched under him at the contact of our skin, he slid a hand behind my back and undid my bra with a snap of his fingers.

  A moment later I was finally as naked as he was.

  His mouth worshipped my breasts, reigniting the fire I was sure he’d already put out. Each tug on my nipple, each stroke of his tongue brought that need back to the surface until it burned brighter than before.

  His fingers stroked through my wetness, and I swore I saw him shake a little. “Perfection.” Then he ripped the foil package open and covered himself. I’d never seen a more erotic sight—he was giving me so many firsts tonight.

  His knees between my thighs, my muscles tensed as his hardness brushed my entrance. I closed my eyes, bracing for whatever came next. It shouldn’t hurt, right? I’d done extreme sports my whole life, so it wasn’t like I was about to bleed. And sure, he was huge, but it’s not like he wasn’t going to fit or some other absurd idea.

  “Penelope,” he called my name, and my eyes popped open to meet his. A ghost of a smile passed over his lips before he kissed me, long and deep.

  Like he’d forgotten that his erection was right there, he thumbed my nipple, kissed my throat, and brought that fire right back to raging.

  “Tell me you’re certain,” he ordered, rocking against me so that he slid through my folds. His eyes slowly shut as he hissed.

  “We already had this portion of the conversation.” My arms looped around his neck.

  “I’m not kidding. I don’t want you to have any regrets about what happens between us tonight.” One of his thumbs brushed my cheekbone as his eyes searched my face for any sign of indecisiveness. “I’ve never done this before, you know, and I want it to be perfect for you.”

  “Sex? You’ve never had sex?”

  He kissed my nose. “Been someone’s first. Been your first.”

  “I guess we’re both in virgin territory,” I said with a grin, running my nails down his back lightly.

  He groaned, arching into my touch. “Penelope,” he said in half warning, half moan.

  I waited until our gazes met and then kissed him, sucking on his lower lip lightly. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life than I am at this moment.”

  He nodded, the muscles in his jaw flexing like he struggled for control.

  “God, I’m crazy about you. Literally fucking insane,” he told me. There was no chance to respond—not with his tongue licking into my mouth while his fingers stroked inside me with a smooth, hot push. He added a third, and I welcomed the sting, knowing he was way bigger than those three fingers.

  I rocked with him, moving against his hand until I was just as desperate as I had been earlier and in complete wonder that he could bring those feelings on again with such intensity.

  His fingers were replaced by the head of his erection, and w
hile one of his hands gripped my thigh, the other was gentle on my face. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he whispered.

  The earlier nervousness was gone, replaced by a feeling of not only need but adoration, and something much sweeter, so much more dangerous that I shoved it to the side and concentrated on our bodies.

  Then he pushed inside, slowly and surely, never once looking away from me. I took a stuttered breath as he slid in farther, the burn present but not painful. Instead, I felt full, like every empty place in my body, my soul, my heart, had been consumed by Cruz. My eyes stung with the perfection of it, and I blinked back the tears as our bodies merged completely.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, softly wiping away one I hadn’t caught.

  “More than okay,” I assured him. I moved a fraction of an inch and was rewarded by a burst of deep pleasure that was unlike anything I’d ever felt. “God, that’s amazing.”

  “Just wait,” he promised, sweat dotting his forehead.

  This man was huge, so strong, so powerful, and yet he was so completely tender and careful with me. I tilted my hips and then rocked them back as he slid within me, dragging through my most sensitive flesh.

  “Penelope. God. Don’t. Give yourself a second.” His forehead puckered, and his eyes slid shut as he groaned.

  The sound was gorgeous, and I wanted to hear it again immediately, so I rocked again, this time a little more forcefully. “I’m okay,” I promised, knowing he held back on my account. I wanted all of him—no holding back, no pretending we weren’t wild about each other. Just every raw ounce he had to give me.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Watching me carefully, he pulled out until he was nearly unsheathed, then slid back in with a moan.

  Holy shit, that felt good.

  “You’re so fucking tight. Perfect.”

  “More.” It was the only word that came to mind. He felt so good that I could nearly taste the pleasure, sweet and heady.

  Forehead braced on mine, he slowly pumped, starting an unhurried, sensual rhythm that made me gasp every time he left me and moan softly with every rejoining. “Faster,” I begged. “God, please, Cruz.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” His breath was slightly unsteady, the muscles in his arms rigid.

  “Don’t hold back. We only have tonight here.” Then we’d be on the ship—where we had to hide, had to sneak kisses. Had to cover our moans, or worse—stay away from each other.

  His mouth consumed mine, the motions of his tongue in time with his thrusts, as the rhythm picked up—stronger, harder, but not faster. I brought my knees up to take him deeper, my cries echoing off the walls of our room.

  God, this…this was worth everything. He was worth everything. Just the ability to hold him, to take him inside my body, to show him without words how I felt about him was worth every time I had to keep my eyes off him, every time I couldn’t claim him.

  Since I couldn’t tell the world he was mine, I branded him with my body instead.

  The man pushed me on and upward, his pace never slowing, never changing as my body coiled around his. My nails scored his back, and I braced my feet on the bed, rocking to meet him with every thrust.

  “God, baby,” he moaned. “My Penelope.”

  The hand that cradled my leg slid up the inside of my thigh, until he’d moved a thumb between us. He expertly stroked my clit, swirling and rubbing, taking every thought out of my head except the buildup of pressure in my belly that was slowly drawing me inward.

  “Cruz,” I whimpered, then yelled. How could he build me up like this again? Bring me to this edge so quickly?

  “Right there. Can you feel it coming?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then let go.” He pushed in, giving my body the exact pressure it needed to let go as he slammed home, and I saw stars. My vision faded, the edges going black as I came, too consumed to even scream.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he said softly as I drifted back down.

  My breath came in giant gulps as his thrusts increased, our sweat-slick bodies sliding together as we met over and over again.

  I locked my ankles and braced my hands against the headboard as his rhythm became frantic, his face taut with tension and wonder.

  Then he pushed one more time, so deep that I gasped, and he shuddered above me with a deep groan. My arms cradled him, and I tried to take in every detail of this moment, from the pounding of my heart, the shortness of breath, to the way his weight stopped just short of crushing me.

  He sucked in a shaky breath, and then rolled us to the side, brushing a damp tendril of my hair from my face.

  We stayed like that for precious minutes, looking at each other while our breathing steadied, his hands lightly stroking my waist, my hip, my arm.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Better than. I’m just about perfect. That was perfect. Is it…is it always like that?” I hated asking, but I needed to know if it was as earth-shattering for him as it was for me, or if it was simply another time he’d had sex.

  “It’s never been like that for me,” he answered softly, his thumb sliding across my lower lip. “Everything about you is a revelation.”

  I snuggled closer, tucking my head under his as his arms wrapped around me.

  “You are the scariest, most addictive woman I’ve ever been around, and after that, Penelope, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of you. Are you sore?”

  I took stock of my body, noting the slight throb coming from between my thighs. “A little.”

  I winced as he slipped free.

  “Wait here.”

  Rolling over, I openly admired his ass again as he made his way to the bathroom. A flush later, I heard running water.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Drawing you a bath. It should help with the soreness.”

  “You are a prince among men,” I told him, stretching as he came back in, the water steadily flowing in the bathroom behind him.

  He bit his lip, his eyes taking on that gleam I knew was desire as he looked over my body. “I wish I had pure intentions. I’m just hoping I can get you comfortable enough to take you again before we have to go back to the ship,” he added with a wiggle of an eyebrow. “I wasn’t kidding about not getting enough of you. How the hell are we going to keep this under wraps? I’m pretty sure my need for you is going to be impossible to hide.”

  “I guess we’d better make the most of our alone time,” I suggested as he effortlessly lifted me into his arms.

  Room service and two more orgasms later, I fell asleep curled in his arms, realizing that he’d ruined me for anyone else. I wasn’t sure anyone could ever hold a candle to tonight—to Cruz.

  When I woke a few hours later, it was to the click of our bedroom door as Cruz walked back in. I blinked, sleepy-drunk and trying to make sense of what was going on. “Is it time to go?”

  He placed a thick envelope into his bag and started stripping.

  “No, baby. I just needed a walk,” he said softly, kissing me on the forehead.

  He stripped, and I forgot all about his late-night need for fresh air as he replaced my breath with his, taking me slowly, sweetly, carefully, but with no less passion than before. I came apart under him, unraveling so completely that I wasn’t sure I was me anymore as much as I was his.

  Finally spent with bone-deep exhaustion, I tumbled into a deep sleep and, for once, my reality was even better than the dreams that waited for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Penna

  At Sea

  “Something is different,” Rachel said the next evening as I studied at our dining room table.

  I looked up from my calculus book and took a sip of my post-workout protein smoothie Landon was torturing me with. “With what?”

  She sat down across from me, folded her arms, and narrowed her eyes. “With you.”

  I felt the sudden urge to swipe at my forehead just in case “Gave Up M
y V-Card” had been tattooed overnight. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re happy,” she accused.

  “Happy is a crime?”

  “Happy is odd for you, lately.”

  I did a quick assessment. Physically I was sore in a way I’d never experienced before. Because you’ve never had someone inside you before, duh. Emotionally…huh. “I guess you’re right. I’m kind of happy.”

  “Who is he?”

  I scoffed and took a completely obvious sip of my disgusting smoothie. “What the hell does your boyfriend put in these?”

  “The tears of my enemies. Now who is he?”

  I shut my math book and stood. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, okay,” she mocked. “Seriously. You didn’t come home last night, you’re all secretive in your room lately, and now you’re all glowy and shit. I know one thing does that to a girl, and it’s a guy, so who is he, Penna?”

  “Maybe I’m happy because I aced last week’s geography test. Maybe I’m happy because I’ve been getting enough sleep, or because I’m back in the gym. Exercise causes endorphins, you know.”

  “Uh-huh. So does sex.”

  I rolled my eyes at her and took my book to my room, dropping it on the stack that consumed my desk.

  “You know I wouldn’t tell the others, right?” she asked softly, leaning against my doorframe. “I owe you for so many things, and you were there for me when you most definitely didn’t have to be, given our history. I just want to make sure that you’re okay and that you know I’m here. Leah’s here, too, just…you know…down the hall.”

  I smiled and hugged her to me, squeezing her tiny frame. “Yes, I know. And thank you. I promise that if it’s something that needs to be talked about, I’ll do the talking with you, okay?”

  She pursed her lips and openly glared at me before softening when she realized she wasn’t going to win this battle. “Yeah. Okay. Fine,” she threw over her shoulder and left me in peace.

  Rachel was right. I was happy. All the shit with Brooke, my parents’ selfish defense of her dismissive cruelty, it all faded away with the thought of how simply, beautifully happy I was with Cruz. And that had been before the sex. Now I was just blissed-out on cloud nine.