by Jenika Snow
Slamming his fist into the man’s gut, Zeke went to work on Gerald while thinking about Alessandria’s bruises. Throughout the beating, Gerald screamed, begged, and pleaded to be released, to be freed. He offered Zeke everything: drugs, sex, money, even Alessandria.
“She’s not yours to barter with, you fucking asshole.” Putting on some brass knuckles, he went back to work. After long minutes, Zeke stepped back from the mess. He’d only just started with Gerald, and the fucker had passed out.
Zeke grabbed one of the buckets that had been brought in just for this occasion. He threw a bucket of ice water on Gerald and waited for him to come around.
“Gentlemen, I want to hear screams.” He stepped back, wishing that he could have let Alessandria witness this. But Zeke didn’t want her to see this side of him. He didn’t want her to see how fucked up he really was. Zeke knew he wasn’t good enough for her, not really. She deserved the whole dream, complete with the white picket fences. Instead, she’d gotten him, and Zeke was going to make sure she was cherished and loved in every way he could.
Chapter Thirteen
ALESSANDRIA HADN’T BEEN able to sleep. It was so late; almost time for the sun to rise and Zeke still wasn’t back. The man named Shakes hadn’t said more than a few words to her. Right now, they were both in one of the rooms downstairs; the big screen TV across from them played some movie with a lot of violence, and the volume was low. Even though Shakes picked the movie, she could see he wasn’t watching it. His focus was on everything but the TV.
The sound of gravel crunching could be heard, and her heart started beating faster. Shakes was up and moving toward the window instantly.
“Zeke’s back.”
She exhaled, not realizing what a relief it was to hear that. But on the heels of that was the fact she knew what he’d been doing.
He killed Gerald.
“Stay here,” Shakes said, and then he was moving out of the room. Seconds later, she heard Zeke’s deep voice, heard him and Shakes murmuring to each other, and then the sound of the door closing filled her head. She rose, moved toward the door, and saw Zeke. He was standing in the foyer, his back to her, the suit he wore looking disheveled and rumpled. He was running his hands through his hair, and she felt the tense air suffocate her.
“You should be sleeping,” Zeke said.
She wasn’t surprised he’d sensed her.
When he turned around, she barely held in her gasp. His white suit shirt was covered in blood, unbuttoned, and his hard, chiseled abdomen showed the gruesome evidence of what he’d done tonight.
“You should be sleeping,” he said again, and all she could do was stand there and watch as he went up the stairs, leaving her there, trying to grasp what in the hell had just happened.
ZEKE HAD TO force himself to leave Alessandria standing there. He knew he looked frightening with Gerald’s blood covering him, but as soon as the fucker had sucked down his last breath, relief had filled Zeke.
He’d thought of Alessandria the entire time, avenging her, making sure she never had to worry about looking over her shoulder for him again. On the car ride home, all he’d thought about was being with her, whispering reassurances that she was safe. He didn’t want to spank her, to cause her pain. He wanted to just give her pleasure.
He went into the bathroom and turned on the water, more cold than hot. He needed to cool off, to wash the blood from his body, the night from his soul. But the longer he thought about Alessandria, the harder his cock got. He was a sick bastard, but knowing that Alessandria was safe, her tormentor dead, all he could think about was being with her.
These weeks had passed with him feeling the need to take her, claim her, make her his. He didn’t have to focus on finding Gerald anymore. Right now, he was going to clean off and get off. His erection had been plaguing him since the moment he saw her after he got back home, after he killed that bastard Gerald.
Looking at his reflection, seeing the blood splattered on his face, his dark hair mused, and his eyes sharing nothing except endless darkness, Zeke knew he was a man that could never give a woman a happily ever after. He wasn’t a man that could be sweet and kind, or make her dreams come true. But he wanted to try with Alessandria. He wanted to make her smile, to have her looking up at him because she knew he’d always be there for her, no matter what.
He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and turned from the mirror. He stripped out of his clothes, stepping into the shower and nearly groaning at how good the chilled water felt.
He washed his body and hair quickly, rinsing off the dirt, grime, blood, and violence. He moved his hand down to his straining erection, gripped the fucker, and held off his groan. He really shouldn’t do this with her downstairs, confused, scared, but he’d be lying of he didn’t admit that her fear of what he could do, her apprehension of him, turned him on to a degree.
His arousal for her was unbearable, and if he didn’t take care of his hard-on, he wouldn’t be able to keep his head in the game, which meant making sure she was fully healed, and fully understood what he wanted from her.
He gripped his shaft tighter, squeezing his hand tight around the thick girth until he clenched his jaw as pain and pleasure coursed through him. He started a slow stroke, up and down, root to tip, running his palm over the engorged head, and feeling his own pre-cum slick him up. He was breathing heavily, his arm working faster, his hand pumping harder over his dick as his climax neared. The one person that fueled his desire was just downstairs, her body the most glorious thing he’d ever seen. She might have lived a hard life, but she was pure. She maddened him, inflamed him, and drove him crazy. She was everything he wanted in a woman, everything he needed in his life, and now with Gerald gone, Zeke intended on making her his in every way.
SHE SHOULD HAVE moved on, gone to her room, shut herself in, and let him have this time to collect himself. Hell, she needed to collect herself, too. These last few weeks had been confusing, in a way. Not only did she find peace and comfort in an evil man, but she cared for him. He’d taken out Gerald because of the threat, the fact Gerald had tried to bring him down. But she knew, without a doubt, that Zeke had killed Gerald for her, too. He’d said so, and she knew that although he was dark and evil, he was also good.
Breathing out roughly, she moved down the hallway, walked into his room, and heard the shower running. She was nearly all healed, and aside from a few faded, almost invisible bruises on her body, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so healthy.
The closer she moved toward that bathroom door, the faster she felt her pulse race. Alessandria knew that if she was ever going to find a man to love her, find a man that could give her what she wanted, needed, without exploiting her and her desires, she’d have to trust him fully. She wanted that from Zeke, and unless she was reading this whole situation wrong, reading him wrong, she saw that same desire in his face. This wasn’t about sex, wasn’t about him controlling her, although she was sure it was that, too. He’d kissed her, touched her, but when he looked at her, there was more in his eyes.
She’d be honest with him, tell him how she felt, what she wanted from him. She’d also tell him that she enjoyed things, certain pleasures. Alessandria wasn’t afraid of him, and in fact, she’d never felt safer than she did with Zeke.
As she stood there, hearing the sound of the water falling hard, heard the distinct sound of Zeke’s harsh, fast breathing, something in her shifted. Alessandria felt her eyes widen, and despite the entire situation, her worry through the night, the fact Zeke killed Gerald presumably just hours ago, a fresh stream of moisture slipped from her pussy.
Oh, God, I’m sick.
But even thinking that didn’t stop her desire for this man.
Another low moan came from the other side of the door and had the adrenaline pumping through her veins harder. Was Zeke doing what she thought he was doing?
Felling another wave of arousal, adrenaline, and even excitement course through her, she pushed the door o
pen enough so that she could see inside. Steam saturated the small room, slightly suffocating her.
Alessandria slipped inside, never as bold as she was right now, and especially not with a man like Zeke. But the truth was that her body was acting on its own, moving her forward, closer to the man she’d fallen for because of his care of her in her darkest hour.
She stayed close to the door, seeing Zeke’s hard, big body on the other side of the frosted glass shower doors. She could see the outline of his muscular form, could even see his hand pumping up and down at his groin. Her throat tightened, dried, and she licked her lips. She clenched her fingers together, her hands now in tight fists at her sides. Alessandria was unable to stop herself when it came to him.
The longer she stood there watching his arm move up and down in an obscenely erotic way that clearly showed he was masturbating; she felt her arousal heighten even more. She heard him suck in a lungful of air, saw him slam his palm on the wall in front of him, and wondered if he was coming. He moaned, his arm still moving up and down, but just as she thought he’d found his release, as she could have just watching this, he stopped.
For a moment, it didn’t sound like he breathed, didn’t look like he moved. She was hyperventilating, doing everything in her power not to touch herself as she played the image over in her head on a continuous reel.
And then he was breathing hard again. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as she watched him shut off the water. Maybe Alessandria should have been smarter and left before he saw her, but she was frozen in place. Rooted to the spot, she felt herself grow more aroused as he slid open the shower doors, watched him reach for a towel, and then he was out, towel drying off. With his back to her, she took in the riddled scars.
God, who would do such a thing to him? Probably the same person or people that liked to hurt you.
He had tattoos—frightening designs that showed her this man had a lot of darkness in him, but she already knew that.
Zeke turned, faced her, and looked right in her eyes; she saw no expression of surprise. He slowly wrapped the towel around his waist, his gaze never leaving hers. She should have said something, anything, but her mouth was incredibly dry, and her throat felt like it was closing off.
“I’m sorry.” Alessandria didn’t know if she was apologizing for being in the bathroom, or watching him, or for something altogether different. She felt like an idiot as soon as the words left her lips, but she didn’t know what else to say. She had just been caught watching him, and instead of shame, she felt a fierce burning fire inside of her, claiming every inch of her.
He said nothing, didn’t break his focus from her either. He grabbed another towel, started drying his upper body and hair off, and the longer the seconds ticked by, the more she felt like she was the one on display.
“I shouldn’t be in here,” she said.
“I think you should be wherever you feel comfortable, wherever you want to go.” He moved a step closer to her. “You’re a free woman, Alessandria. Gerald is dead, you’re safe, and no one will hurt you.
Will you? I want you to hurt me in the way that makes me feel good.
“I should go.” Although she should be at her knees thanking him for saving her life, for not being a lowdown piece of shit person like Gerald, she found herself, instead, turning, ready to leave.
“Stop, Alessandria.”
She did as ordered, her eyes now closed, as she tried to catch her breath. Turning around and facing him was harder than she thought it would be. With her eyes open again, her focus on him, all she could do was take in the intensity of his body, of his size. She pressed herself against the door with enough force that it slammed shut, and she put her hands flat behind her. The wood was smooth, cold.
For a second, all Zeke did was watch her, and then he was advancing on her. When he was just a foot away from her, his hair disheveled and damp, water droplets falling down his golden scarred and tattooed skin, she couldn’t help but lower her gaze. She couldn’t help but note that he was huge, his shaft pressing against the towel, making the material tent almost obscenely.
“I should let you leave, but I find myself fascinated with you, wanting you by my side.”
Her tongue swelled, no words leaving her in a response.
“How long were you standing there, watching me?”
She knew her eyes were wide, but there was no fear. There was only this crazy intense arousal. Should she lie? No, he’ll know, and you want to be truthful with him.
“Not long.” She shook her head. It wasn’t a lie, not really. She inhaled, smelling the soap and shampoo he’d used. He placed his hands on the door, one on either side of her head and leaned forward. She looked into his dark eyes, and although she should have seen the very devil himself, all Alessandria saw was her savior.
She let her gaze travel down his thickly corded neck, over his rippling, hairless chest, along the tattoos, and stopped at an abdomen that had rolling hills of muscles. A trail of dark hair started below his navel, leading down and disappearing beneath the towel. His erection continued to strain against the fabric, causing a fresh gush of moisture to leave her.
“You’re healed.” He made the comment—it wasn’t a question—as if he were pleased, as if he was immensely happy. She could hear that in his voice.
“Yes, you know I am,” she said softly, remembering the kiss they’d shared before he left, the fact he’d seen her body, and the barely there bruises on her torso.
“Hmm,” he lowered his gaze to her mouth. “Did you like what you saw? Did you like watching me?”
His voice was deep and gravely, so sexually laced, that her whole body heated with awareness. Against her better judgment, she nodded, licking her lips again and noticing how his gaze stay trained on her mouth.
“There are so many things I want to do to you, so many things I want from you.” His voice was a silky, dark whisper of promise. “But I’d surely frighten you, Alessandria.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. “I think there are things you don’t know about me, either.”
He smirked, but it wasn’t amused. “Tell me your secrets, Alessandria. Tell me what you’re afraid to say because someone betrayed your trust.” He ran a hand along the very edge of her cheek. “You can trust me.”
She knew she could.
Taking a deep breath, she stared into his eyes. “I like my pleasure with pain.” Although she knew he knew this, that he’d heard things about her from Gerald before he killed him, that she’d probably shown signs when he’d touched her, saying it, admitting it, scared her.
“But you already knew that,” she whispered.
He leaned in an inch. “I did, baby. And you know what my secret is?”
She knew whatever he was about to say wasn’t a secret.
“I want to give you that pain you crave, because giving you pain brings me pleasure.”
She couldn’t breathe. God, she couldn’t breathe.
In the next instant, he crushed his lips against hers, speared his hand through her hair, and pulled her toward him until their bodies slammed together. Her body molded to his, and she was very aware of how soft hers was compared to the hardness of his. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, moaning when his tongue slid inside and tangled with hers. She wanted to submit, wanted to give him everything. This wasn’t about paying him back for saving her, for being kind to her. This was about Alessandria wanting Zeke more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
The bathroom was humid, the moisture in the air causing beads of sweat to dot her body as her arousal spiked.
“Give yourself to me and I swear to everything, Alessandria, I fucking swear, I’ll treat you the way you deserve,” he lowered his voice. “I’ll treat you like my Queen.”
He ground his shaft into her, his cock like steel, monstrous and ready to take her. She spread her legs wider; Zeke used the opportunity to move closer and press his erection against her mound. He broke away from her mouth, b
reathing heavily as he kissed a trail down her throat.
“Say you’ll be mine, Alessandria.”
She didn’t even need to think about it. “I want to be yours. I want to be only yours.”
“Oh, Alessandria, what you do to me.”
She let her head fall back against the door and closed her eyes, loving the feel of his tongue dancing along her flesh, claiming her, dominating her. His other hand gripped her waist, clenching and unclenching as he slowly moved it up her body. She thrust her breasts out, needing him to touch her, aching for him to caress her throbbing nipples. It had been so long since she’d felt this kind of arousal, this kind of need.
He cupped the heavy mound and ran his thumb over the engorged tip. She should have been embarrassed at how the nubs stabbed through the material of her shirt, should have been humiliated that she was being so brazen; wanting this as much as she wanted her freedom.
But do you really want your freedom? This is what you’ve wanted…to be touched and loved and to be treated with the respect you deserve.
His took his other hand and reached around, cupping her ass and lifting her slightly. She teetered on her toes, gasping as his cock nudged her clit. The t-shirt and thin cotton pants she wore were no barrier for his erotic onslaught. He slid his hand over the globes of her bottom, slipping between her cheeks, and running his fingers up and down the center of her body, right through her panties and pants.
“I can feel how wet and hot you are for me, baby.” He ran his tongue along the shell of her ear, over her cheek, and kissed her.
For long seconds, that’s all they did. And then he bit down on her bottom lip. A gap of pain left her, but on the heels of that, pleasure consumed her. Alessandria moaned, unable to stop herself.
“That’s it, Alessandria, let that pain make you feel good.”
She shivered.
“Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me right now, and this will end, Alessandria. I’m a bastard, but for you, I’d do anything, be a better man, or try to, baby.”