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Before the End (Beyond Series Ultimate Glom Edition)

Page 174

by Kit Rocha


  His body tightened, but he left his hands on the bed. If he moved too fast, pushed her too much... "Was I on to something?"

  "Maybe Gia was my fault," she whispered. "It didn't have to be that hard. But I was afraid to be honest because I didn't think I could make it on my own. It's different now."

  It hurt, to think of her blaming herself for something like that. "Sometimes, things don't work. It doesn't have to be anyone's fault."

  "I still need to be honest this time. Some things—maybe I'm making assumptions again. But maybe..." She pulled back to meet his eyes. "If I'm yours, I'm yours. Behind closed doors, just the two of us. Is that enough?"

  Maybe she was thinking about more O'Kane rumors, and maybe she was thinking about things that were true—the way Noelle loved having Jasper dominate her in front of other people. The way Lex wore Dallas's name across her skin.

  He let himself go enough to lay his hands on Tatiana's hips. "The public stuff—it isn't my thing. I don't need that."

  "What do you need?"

  A thousand things, but nothing as much or as hard as this. "Someone who gets me. Who doesn't want me to be anything or anyone else. What do I want?" He drew her closer. "I want it to be you."

  "I want it to be me, too." She traced a finger along his brow. "You're like the rest of this place. Too good to be true. But I want to believe."

  Trix's clothes didn't look right on her. Oh, they fit—like a fucking glove, too well in some places—but they weren't her. The flowing skirts and vests suited her far better.

  It didn't stop him from letting his gaze linger over her curves. "I think we should take this off."

  She laughed. Warm, husky laughter that tickled up his spine. "Do you want my help or my permission?"

  He slapped her hip lightly, urging her off his lap. "I want you to do it."

  Something dangerous flashed through her gaze. Something hungry. She skimmed her nails over his shoulders and along his arms as she slipped away. The corset was held together by steel hooks, and they clicked quietly as she undid them. "What do you need, Zan?"

  What he needed was simple—and not at all the filthy invitation she no doubt wanted to hear. "I need...to stop asking. It's all I've done. Ask and beg and lure and seduce, and it hasn't worked. Because you're still not sure about me."

  "Maybe you need to start asking." She stripped away the corset, and the shirt beneath was so thin, he could see the contours of her body through it. "You offer, and you give, and you promise, and sometimes I want you to be as selfish and needy as I am."

  What she described wasn't asking, not at all. And maybe that was the key. If he was too gentle, too careful, then she could barely trust herself not to destroy him. But if he demanded...

  If he took.

  He braced his hands on the edge of the mattress. "You're not naked yet," he rumbled. "Fix it. Now."

  She sucked in a ragged breath and stripped the shirt over her head. The zipper on the skirt stuck, and she jerked at it so hard he knew he'd be paying Trix for a replacement. But that seemed worth it when Tatiana shoved both skirt and panties down over her hips.

  She stepped free of the tangle of fabric and stood staring at him, flushed and breathing fast and—for the first time—completely naked. For him.

  Behind closed doors, she'd said. A thrill of heat whispered through him, tightening his balls. "On your knees, sweetheart."

  No hesitation. She sank to her knees without looking away from him, but the look in her eyes wasn't sweet obedience. It was hot, hungry challenge.

  That, he could handle. "Come to me."

  She wasn't that far away, but her lips still pursed as she eyed the distance. Her gaze returned to his as she leaned forward to brace her hands on the floor.

  She stalked toward him, her ass in the air, and he clenched his hands in the covers. "Faster, Tatiana. You're making me wait."

  Smiling, she stretched her arms out and arched her back. "Do you need something?"

  The only way to keep from reaching for her was to reach for his belt instead. "I'm not making requests anymore, remember? This time, I'm demanding." The buckle clicked free. "Come to me."

  Her gaze focused on his hands. On the belt. She wet her lips as he pulled the leather free of the clasp, and moved faster.

  He wouldn't reach for her. He couldn't, because this had to happen. It had to be her choice.

  When she knelt in front of him, Zan wound his fingers through her hair, stroking her scalp gently for a moment before clenching his hand. "Suck my dick."

  Her breath caught, but she still didn't hesitate. Just finished opening his pants, and then her fingers were on him—warm, strong fingers. She stroked his shaft and traced her thumb over the head before glancing up at him.

  "I've never done it before," she whispered. "Tell me if I'm doing it wrong."

  "I don't think that'll be a problem, sweetheart."

  She smiled and pressed those curved lips to his crown. A too-gentle kiss, until she did it again, and a third time. Her lips parted, and she licked. Quick, and then longer, her eyes locked on his as she dragged her tongue up his shaft and closed her mouth over him.

  His body moved without permission—hips arching up to her mouth, his hand urging her head lower—as pleasure rushed over him. The room swam out of focus, but Tatiana was sharp. Her dark eyes burned with lust as she took him deep, so eager she kept trying to take more even when she choked.

  He hauled her head up, but only to rub his thumb over her lower lip before pushing her back down. "Again."

  She moaned. Sucked. Strained against his grip on her hair, so flatteringly desperate. When he pulled her up again, she panted, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. "Like that?"

  "Slower," he rasped, knowing the low timbre of his voice would please her as much as the stern direction. "Use your tongue again."

  She did. The flat of it against the underside of the head, then the tip, light and teasing. She explored him, finding the spots that tightened his hand in her hair and going back to them.

  She learned fast. Fast enough to twist him into fucking knots. Zan lifted her head again and seized her chin. "Offer yourself to me."

  "Again?" She wet her lips. "I've been yours since the door closed."

  "You told me," he corrected. "Now show me."

  She drew in a slow breath and tested his grip on her hair. When he didn't release her, she shivered and crossed her wrists behind her back. She inched her knees apart, dragged in another ragged breath, and spread them wider.

  She was so turned on, her inner thighs slick, her nipples tight, hard points. Her gaze rose to his, held it for a tense, silent moment.

  Then she closed her eyes. Parted her lips. And waited.

  Yes. He hauled her off the floor, clutching her to his chest as he sank back on the bed. She landed astride his thighs, her legs spread wide, her pussy only inches from his straining dick.

  She moaned, eyes flying open, and grasped his shirt. "I want to see you," she whispered, tugging at the fabric. "Please, let me see you this time."

  He leaned up far enough to strip the shirt over his head, then pulled her higher on his body, hissing out a curse as she slid past his dick, hot and wet. She settled on his stomach, and he ran his hands up her inner thighs, until his thumbs were only a whisper away from her pussy.

  Then he stopped. "Take it, Tatiana."

  She stared down at his hands. And rocked forward.

  The movement rubbed her wet flesh over his thumbs. He waited until she did it again before moving with her, following the retreat of her hips and easing his thumbs up to circle her clit.

  "Zan—" He liked her voice like that, shaking and needy. She drove her fingers into her hair, holding it back so she could watch him touching her. "God, I'm obsessed with your hands. I want them on me all the time. All over me. In me."

  "Yeah?" He twisted his wrist, turning his hand so he could thrust two fingers inside her.

  She was tight, but wet. So wet. She hissed, eyelids drooping,
her body clenching. "You give me—oh God. Everything. Everything I need."

  "Uh-uh, sweetheart. I'm not giving you anything right now. You're taking." He curled his fingers, and her back arched. "So take it harder."

  She moaned and dropped her hands to his chest, fingernails digging in. It shifted the angle of her hips, driving his fingers deeper, and her gaze locked with his. "Make me take more."

  He held the eye contact as he pulled his fingers free of her body and thrust them back in, along with a third. It had to hurt, at least a little, but Tatiana didn't flinch back. She panted and rolled her hips in slow, tiny circles. "Do you—do you like—?"

  She was dazed, blissed out. Zan slapped her ass with his free hand. "Focus, sweetheart, or I'll stop."

  She jolted away from his slap, which only ground her harder onto his fingers. "Oh fuck."

  He spoke through gritted teeth. "Tatiana?"

  She blinked, but her eyes were glazed, her expression already dreamy, even with tension stiffening her body and her pussy clenching tight around his fingers. "Tell me you like this," she whispered. Begged. "Tell me you like doing dirty things to me."

  "I love it." He gripped her hip and took over the movements. "I love feeling you go all soft around me. Getting ready."

  "I can be soft for you." It was so quiet, so hesitant, he knew she wasn't talking about the willingness of her body. "I can be soft with you."

  She swayed, just a little. Zan drove his fingers deep, then lifted his thumb to her clit.

  She cried out with the first stroke. The second had her scratching her nails across his chest. When he circled his thumb a third time, she came, shuddering and moaning, her pussy holding his fingers so fucking tight that all he could think about was that sweet clench around his cock.

  Fuck.

  He sat up and flipped her over on the bed. Her knees hit the mattress, and he guided her hips up as he knelt behind her. Her back bowed in anticipation, but she slid her arms above her head, clutching the sheets in her fists as she rested her cheek on the bed. "I need you. I need you so much."

  "Shh." He soothed her by running one hand down her spine—and thrust into her in one deep stroke.

  She took him. All of him, with a helpless moan. She trembled under his hand, but she didn't squirm away. "You're so big like this."

  "Already told you, sweetheart." He leaned over her, his chest to her back, and groaned when her hips tilted, sharpening the angle of his penetration. "I'm not a small man."

  "I know." She rubbed up against him. "But you'll only give me what I can take."

  "Do you even know?" He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek and eased his thumb into her mouth. "How much you can take?"

  She shook her head, the movement scraping her teeth across the pad of his thumb before she licked it.

  He could show her. He'd show her everything. Zan pulled his thumb free as he slowly straightened. Another soft glide down the line of her back—but this time, he didn't stop. Not until his slick thumb nudged her asshole.

  She tensed up, but only for a moment. "It's—it's been a few years."

  "Relax." He pushed harder, testing the tight ring of muscle. "Let me fill you up."

  She whimpered. Rocked. Just a little, but back toward him. Her trembling slowed, and her body began to relax. "Okay. Okay."

  Not okay. He hauled her upright with one hand cupped around her shoulder. "Okay is when your coffee's cold but you can drink it anyway. Okay isn't when a man is fucking you, sweetheart."

  "Zan—" She reached up, clutching at the back of his neck as her body bowed. The sharp curve of her spine made her balance precarious, but every squirm worked her back against his cock, against his thumb. "I'm close, I'm close again, please—"

  He plunged deeper—into her pussy, into her ass—and groaned as she fluttered around him. She threw her head back against his shoulder, her free hand sliding to her belly. "Tell me to stop if you don't want me getting myself off all over you."

  "Why the fuck would I stop you?" He shifted the hand around her shoulder to her chest, just beneath the soft line of her neck. "Do it."

  She did, skimming her fingers down. He felt it when her fingertips grazed her clit, because she clenched so tight around him his hand slipped, locking around her throat. Her body jerked in his grasp as her breathing sped—

  She came with a ragged cry, her pussy pulsing.

  Fuck. Fuck. Her pleasure drew him in, snatching away what was left of his self-control, igniting shocks at the base of his spine. He let her go and she fell forward, catching herself on the mattress as he slammed into her.

  She gripped his cock, pulling him deeper, and the shocks exploded. Zan grunted as he spilled inside her, his entire goddamn world centered on Tatiana's shivering, clasping body.

  Then she whispered his name, soft and dreamy, and let her upper body collapse to the bed. She sprawled in front of him, boneless and relaxed, every defense stripped away. For the first time, she was completely relaxed.

  Completely his.

  He didn't have time to enjoy it. There was a sharp rap at his door, followed by the muted scratch of paper sliding under the door.

  "Damn." He settled Tatiana to the bed and climbed off, reaching for his pants.

  When he returned to the bed with the note, she'd curled on her side, her cheek resting on her outstretched arm and her body still languid. But her brow furrowed as she caught sight of the folded paper between his fingers. "Is everything okay?"

  The words were brief, concise. Be ready to roll in three hours. "Looks like we're hitting Wallace's place tonight."

  She sat up, dragging the covers to her chest. "Already?"

  "He had Jasper out doing recon. If he says it's time to move, it's time." He set the note aside. Tatiana's eyes were huge, her body tense. "Hey. We'll get her out of there. I promise."

  "And then I'll humiliate her in front of the whole sector." She squeezed her eyes shut. "But she'll be safe, right?"

  "It may not have to go down like that," he reassured her. "Just let it play out, sweetheart."

  "That's the hard part." She held out her hand, but she looked so sad that Zan gathered her into his arms as he sank to the bed. She relaxed against him, tucking her head beneath his chin with a soft sigh.

  "I'm scared," she finally admitted. "I don't even want to tell you how scared, because you'll think I don't trust you."

  "Nah, I get it. It's not about me." It was about her sister, the fact that she was in danger—and now Tatiana had to let someone else take the reins to get her out of the situation. "But I won't let anything happen to her."

  "I know." She wrapped her arms around him, cuddling closer. "I do. But I don't know what happens next, and the last time everything changed..."

  Was the day her father died. The day her whole world came crashing down. "It won't be like that."

  "I need my shop," she whispered. "I worked so hard for it. And I love it. I just wish..."

  "Wish what?"

  She was silent for a long time before she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "The fight wrecked my soap. It's such a stupid thing, but I want to cry over that more than anything else. It was my first batch for the high-end boutique in Eden, and the money would have given me breathing room."

  I'll fix it. His first instinct—and the wrong thing to say. The only way he could possibly help her would be to give her money, and the last thing Tatiana wanted was to tie up her independence and hand it to him in a pretty bow.

  He cleared his throat instead. "You can talk to Lex. She might have some ideas, maybe other ways you could sell."

  "Maybe." She sounded doubtful, but she did relax again. "At least I don't owe Dallas money for the next year."

  He tucked her closer to his chest, trying to relieve the ache there, and he couldn't hold back the quiet offer. "You don't have to owe him anything, you know. If that's something you want to think about."

  "Because of us?"

  "It could be."

  She shif
ted, sliding her fingertips down his arm to linger on his wrists. On his ink. "Maybe I'm already thinking."

  Hope lurched through him. "Yeah?"

  "If things go well..." She twined her fingers with his. "If I don't need you, I won't be so scared of wanting you."

  "Makes sense." He hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Will you stay here until I get back?"

  "Yes." She huffed. "I don't have a choice. Lex made that pretty clear."

  "You always have a choice. That's what being an O'Kane is about."

  "Well, I'm not an O'Kane." She pulled back and stared up at him. "It's okay, Zan. I made my deal. They need her alive almost as much as I do. And I know you'll take care of her."

  And after, he'd have to follow his own advice—let go a little, and wait to see how things fell out.

  Chapter Ten

  Zan had been gone for an hour when the lights went out.

  Flickering power wasn't unusual in the sectors, so Tatiana held her breath. But one heartbeat turned into five, and Six's voice rose from somewhere in the darkness to her left. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

  Emma, Ace's apprentice tattoo artist, audibly stifled a yawn. "Haven't had a blackout for a while."

  "What bullshit." A lighter clicked, and a flame illuminated Six's face. "You got any candles in here, Lex?"

  "Behind the bar." Lex rose and stretched, then swept up her half-empty glass. "Good thing we closed early, I guess. I'd hate to be peeling grabby dickheads off the dancers right now."

  Tatiana couldn't imagine how rowdy the bar got during a blackout. The whole sector would be rumbling soon, troublemakers pouring out the doors to prowl the shops and stalls. People looted. Buildings burned. Whatever tenuous grip most of them had on civilized humanity slipped.

  And Tatiana's shop was unprotected.

  As if Lex could read her mind, she made a soothing noise. "The rest of the guys'll be heading out to keep order. Don't worry."

  Tatiana curled her fingers toward her palms, but taking deep, steady breaths wouldn't calm the anxiety. "I can't just sit here."

  "This is what we do—sit tight and ride it out."

  Trust. Lex was asking her to trust the O'Kanes with everything. Her sister, their livelihood, their future. But how many places could the O'Kane men be? How many could be spared to babysit an empty shop—and who would prioritize it with people's lives in danger?

 

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