Intrepid_A Vigilantes Novel
Page 36
“Never make the mistake of thinking I don’t want you, Mrs. Vaughn.”
I kissed lower, down her chest, stopping to suckle each of her nipples, and lower to her stomach. When I finally reached the apex of her thighs, I was hanging off the end of the bed, the edge of the mattress pressed against my groin. Hiking her legs over my shoulders, I spread her apart and drove my tongue inside of her, setting off another sexy moan that skated down my spine. Holding her lips apart, I flicked my tongue over her clit, the scent of her doing some fucked up things to my head, as I licked and sucked, starving for the sweet juices that dribbled down my chin.
“Oh, Nick!” The desperation in her voice was a symphony to my ears, raspy, as she tried to keep from waking our son in the next room.
I drove two fingers up inside her, crooking them just enough that she grabbed hold of my hair, nails scoring my scalp.
Her thighs trembled against my shoulders, muscles taut as she fought hard to hold it together.
“Tell me what you want, Aubree. I’m not giving it to you until you tell me.”
“Make me come. Please, Nick!”
The sounds. The smells. The taste of her was all too much. I rolled my hips against the edge of the mattress, desperate to fuck her, but I wanted her to come first. I wanted to make her shatter, because watching her flush and scream and arch with climax was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. Even if she hadn’t asked so nicely, I’d have given it to her, because I was a selfish bastard, and watching her was more about my pleasure than hers.
My fingers pumped in and out, while her hands fisted the sheets at either side of me. I knew every inch of her skin. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before she’d draw her legs up, and her body would plank. Her breaths would turn to short pants. She’d soon claw my shoulders in a desperate bid to make me stop, while pleading for me to keep going, and when it all played out just as I knew it would, I smiled against her wet pussy, rubbing my short cropped beard against her clit because I knew that drove her crazy, too.
“Mmm, fuck!” she cried out, her nails digging the hell out of my skin, her whole body shaking with orgasm.
I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to the glass shower stall. Flipping on the water, I waited until it’d warmed, producing billows of steam, and pulled her inside. My dick stood painfully hard, and when I closed the shower door behind her, I didn’t waste any time taking what I wanted. Pressing her to the tiles behind her, I lifted her up and wrapped her thighs over my hips.
Like a good girl, she reached down between us, guiding my tip into her weeping cunt, and the slick welcoming heat damn near made my knees buckle.
On days when I wanted to fuck instead of making love, I’d tell her I was Alec, and she’d laugh, excusing my roughness. But Alec hadn’t been around for years. Probably because the woman, herself, made me of two minds—a ravenous motherfucker with the inclination to tear her apart, and one who’d lay down his life for her.
Water pounded against my back, creating a slippery glide, as I pressed my head against her shoulders and drove my hips up into her.
Tits bouncing beneath my hungry mouth, she tipped her head back, arms wrapped tight around my neck, holding on, clawing my back. Her moan echoed in my ear, fading to quiet when a dark cloud settled over me.
Happened every time I fucked her that way. An angry possessive beast awakened inside of me, and I slammed my eyes shut, mind locked in a silent vow that I would slay anything that ever touched her. I’d burn down the world for her and revel in the flames. Without hesitation, or deliberation, I’d both suffer and kill for the woman.
I opened my eyes, hips still beating out an unfaltering rhythm of my inevitable destruction.
I’d seen beautiful things in my lifetime, but nothing matched the look on her face right then, the way her head tipped back with my name on her lips. She was unbreakable and fragile at the same time. So breathtaking, a pang of jealousy struck my chest at the thought of me just an hour ago, not yet inside of her, brimming with so much lust and potential.
I came hard and fast, my body both carousing in its release and mourning its end.
My name echoed in the stall, while I filled her with the final jets of climax, the hot spray of the shower reverberating each mind-fucking throb of my cock, and I buried my face in her damp hair, kissing the racing pulse of her throat, while I held her against the cool tiles.
“Gonna be one of those nights, Pistol Lips.” I could feel my body hardening again for her, and I groaned as exhaustion battled the insatiable craving that rallied my muscles for another round. Still inside her, I felt her pussy contract and twitch around my cock, zaps of electricity enticing me, taunting me to go at her again.
Her head rolled against the tiles, eyes heavy with sleep, breaths deep and satisfied. “Just … a few minutes of rest. That’s all I need.”
I kissed her throat and set her back down onto the shower floor. “For a while. And then I’m going to try again.”
“Try what again?”
“To get you pregnant. I want another baby inside you. Anton obviously wants a sister.”
“What, the doll? That’s your excuse?” Her body shivered with her laugh, and she pulled me to her lips for a kiss. “You just want me big and round and waddling everywhere. Admit it.”
“You’ve no idea how sexy you are when you waddle.”
She smiled against my lips and squeezed my ass, tugging me closer until my hands shot out against the tiles to keep from falling on top of her. “In that case, I’m ready now. Sleep can wait.”
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is a marathon and sometimes it can feel like you’re running in the dark with high heels on. It’s usually about halfway through, I start to think, what the hell did I get myself into? And that’s why I’m thankful for the wonderful support group that lures me toward the finish line with words of encouragement (and bottles of wine). Here are just a handful of the hundreds of people who’ve played a role in making sure I don’t veer off the path.
To my husband and daughters, you’re always number one. I know while I’m writing the book, it can feel like you’re number ten, or however many characters are chattering inside my head at once, but you’re the reason I’m able to sit and talk to my imaginary friends at all. Thank you for your patience and understanding, particularly the days when I’m zoning out. A lot. I love you infinity. ❤️
I’m blessed to have a family who always has my back no matter what I do. Thank you for believing in me and giving me a push when I need it. I love you all.
Endless thanks to my editor and friend, Julie Belfield, who has been with me since the very beginning when I published Soul Avenged. Your feedback is invaluable and your care and attention to detail has helped make every book I’ve written better. Thank you for being an incredible mentor, and for selflessly sacrificing your sanity over my first drafts.
To Lana of Dirty Girl Romance Blog, a brave and fearless soul who jumps into these battle zone manuscripts feet first, valiantly slaughtering the purple from my prose. You never try to pump sunshine up my ass, you beta my stories to make them better, more cohesive, and I love you for it.
To Terri Rochenski, beta extraordinaire. The small details you manage to catch amazes me. Without you, my books would be riddled with stupid mistakes – a white shirt described as a red sweater three pages back or a magically disappearing condom. I don’t know what kind of coffee you drink, but feel free to send some to me. Thank you for hunting down these errors and for being so awesome!
Enormous thanks to my badass designer, Clarise, from CT Cover Creations. You took on my cover at a moment’s notice, in the thick of all your other deadlines, and it turned out better than I could’ve imagined. Thank you for your endless patience and creativity.
Many many thanks to Rafa G. Catala, whose Instagram has served as an enormous distraction for me. You make us all want to move to Spain. Thank you for capturing the beautiful face of this cover. And to the model,
who made the perfect muse for Ty’s character.
To my Vigilante Vixens – I love you all! Thank you for giving me a corner of social media where I feel happy, and for cheering me on when I need it most. I’m not the most exciting person to follow when I’m locked in the writing cave for weeks at a time, but you’ve stuck with me, even during the lame moments, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Timitra, Naliia, Cody, Debbie, Denae, Diane, Leigh, and Priscilla, thank you for being so amazing.
To the bloggers who’ve taken a chance on my stories and continue to support me – I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve introduced so many readers to my books and ask for nothing in return. I appreciate each and every one of you. Just to name a few who’ve been with me for a while now—Angela C., Lana, Eliza, Astrid, Angela R., Kelly, Courtney, Ratula, Stephanie, Mimiorphee, Loyda, CeeCee, Lilly, Gitte & Jenny—big squishy hugs to each and every one of you for all you do!
To the author friends who’ve reached out and made me feel at home in this community, thank you. As an introvert, it’s not easy for me to network and put myself out there, but you’ve made it almost effortless with your kindness and support.
And finally to my readers—none of this would be possible without you. Thank you for taking a chance on me and reading my books. Nothing I write here will truly capture the gratitude I feel for having you as a reader, but your messages and the humbling reviews you leave mean everything to me. I promise to do my best and write a better book than the last (and give you a swoon-worthy antihero, too). Thank you for letting me share my stories with you. ❤️
Other Books By Keri Lake
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
RICOCHET
BACKFIRE
INTREPID
BALLISTIC (coming soon)
EROTIC ROMANCE
RIPPLE EFFECT
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
SOUL AVENGED
SOUL RESURRECTED
SOUL ENSLAVED
SOUL REDEEMED
THE FALLEN (A SONS OF WRATH SPINOFF)
DYSTOPIAN ROMANCE
JUNIPER UNRAVELING
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About the Author
Keri Lake is a dark romance writer who specializes in demon wrangling, vengeance dealing and wicked twists. Her stories are gritty, with antiheroes that walk the line of good and bad, and feisty heroines who bring them to their knees. When not penning books, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters, and their rebellious Labrador (who doesn’t retrieve a damn thing). She runs on strong coffee and alternative music, loves a good red wine, and has a slight addiction to dark chocolate.
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