Before the End (Beyond Series Ultimate Glom Edition)

by Kit Rocha

  "Not like this. Something softer, slower." Another inch. "I'd lay you out on my bed, I think. Not yours—it would have to be mine. It wouldn't take long to figure out just where to kiss. Where to bite."

  "Anywhere." Her leg trembled, and she pressed it against his to steady herself. "I don't think it matters. I feel so much."

  "Shh." Too much, too fast, and she'd panic. "Watch."

  Rachel was moving now, her dress spilling across Ace's legs in a token show of modesty, as if anyone could doubt what the slow roll of her hips meant. As they watched, Cruz sank his fingers into Ace's hair and hauled his head back.

  They didn't have to talk, to coordinate. He and Rachel moved as one, each claiming one side of Ace's throat, and Ace's groan of pleasure carried over the music, across the room.

  Jared bit back a groan of his own. "What do you see when you look at them?"

  The same question he'd asked her the first night, but her answer was different now. "Tenderness. Safety."

  "And fucking." Jared slid his hand higher, until his fingers barely brushed her panties. "Tenderness and safety and fucking."

  Lili's head tipped back, her throat working. "Jared—"

  "They can have all three." He stilled his hand.

  "Because they're O'Kanes?"

  Because they had each other—but that was a complicated answer, one that hadn't yet been distilled to its essence. "Yes, because they're O'Kanes."

  Her desperate grip on his shirt eased. Her fingers started to drift, up his spine and across his shoulders, before the soft tips feathered over the back of his neck, eliciting a shiver. "That's why they're all terrified of Dallas, isn't it? Because his people love him."

  Wasn't that stronger than loyalty born of fear and violence? Mac Fleming's men had lived and died for him because it was required. Dallas's people did it willingly. Gladly.

  "Love is strong," Jared whispered. "It can overcome anything else."

  Lili traced circles on the side of his throat, echoing the way Cruz rubbed his thumb over the marks his teeth had left in Ace's skin. Jared took up the same rhythm, coaxing the damp fabric of her panties against the heated flesh beneath.

  She was insanely responsive, shaking after only a few slow caresses, her breath coming quick and unsteady. Her nails pricked his skin, and she shifted her hips restlessly. Seeking.

  Not yet. He pulled his hand away, and she sighed softly at the loss even as she relaxed. "I wish I knew what to expect," she whispered, her voice edged with apology. "Maybe it wouldn't be so overwhelming."

  Maybe she still expected something pleasant but manageable. Nothing like the toe-curling, muscle-clenching, earth-shattering release of a damn good orgasm.

  Like the kind Rachel was headed toward. She shuddered as she gripped Ace's chin, turned his head toward Jared and Lili, and put her mouth next to his ear. Too far to hear the words, but Ace groaned as his gaze locked with Jared's.

  Whatever she said, it was filthy enough to turn the invitation in Ace's eyes into something deeper. Into a promise. Jared wrapped his hand in Lili's dress, drawing it higher, and leaned toward her. "What sorts of ideas did you put in Rachel's head, love?"

  "I—I invited them to have dinner with us." She turned her face until her lips brushed his cheek. "I don't know if that was all I invited them to do."

  "Yes, you do." He turned too, just far enough to graze her mouth with his. "Admit it, Lili. At least to yourself."

  She closed her eyes, her voice dropping to a husky purr. "They'd let me watch, wouldn't they? That's why Rachel told me I could learn by observation. They'd let me watch."

  Having an audience would get Rachel off, but he doubted it could put that lustful look in Ace's eyes. "I think they'd let you do more than that."

  Lili's eyes popped open. She stared up at him, shock mingling with unmistakable fascination as the flush in her cheeks deepened. "What does it feel like? Giving someone pleasure, I mean."

  Cruz was watching them now, lazily pumping his fingers in and out of Ace's mouth in a gesture so effortlessly obscene it had to be pure instinct. Jared responded the same way—without thought, without censoring his desires.

  Without holding back. He reached for Lili's hand and pulled it down to her lap, molding her fingers beneath his. "Find out."

  Lili's world was on fire.

  It was wrong. Watching Rachel and Ace and Cruz, imagining doing more than watching, and now this, her dress pushed up to her hips and her fingers pressed between her own thighs. Everything about this was wrong, start to finish.

  And it felt so, so right.

  This was the source of the ache that consumed her every time Jared touched her. His touch had always been too much, illicit and skilled and intimidating. Her own touch was clumsy by comparison, but even that had her shaking in moments.

  Something was simmering inside her, something that made every brush of her fingers—their fingers—more dangerous and more necessary.

  Jared's breath blew over her ear. "You know this is what she wants, right?" He stroked his thumb over her cheek, guiding her gaze back to Rachel. "She gets off on being watched. And watching, I think."

  It explained so much. The warmth in Rachel's eyes, the subtle tension in the store. Maybe Rachel hadn't wanted to push, but the willingness was there. To let Lili watch, to help her understand the O'Kanes and their reckless pleasure.

  Lili even understood gets off now—it was the culmination of pleasure, the moment this ache inside her boiled over. The only question was how hot she had to get before it happened.

  Rachel had one arm wrapped around Ace's neck, her eyes drifting shut only to snap open again. She moved faster, her chest heaving, and she clutched at Cruz with her other hand, her fingers wound through his hair as he reached between her and Ace.

  With a jolt, Lili realized what he was doing. Touching Rachel, the same way Jared was guiding her to touch herself. But not tentative and easy—even in faint light, the shifting pattern of his tattoos highlighted the flex of muscle. Rachel's response was immediate, her body arching as if the pleasure was so intense, she might fly out of her skin.

  Blood pounding in her ears, Lili shifted her fingers, pressing more firmly. Sensation jolted through her, and she barely dug her teeth into her lower lip in time to hold back a moan.

  The sharp sound of a zipper broke through her haze. "Do you do this when you're alone, Lili?"

  Shaking her head, she sagged back in the booth. The vinyl was smooth and cool against all the skin bared by her dress, but her own nakedness was inconsequential. The table shielded Jared's movements from everyone else in the room—

  But not from her.

  He had freed his erection from his tailored pants. It jutted up into his hand, long and thick and impossibly big. It looked rough and delicate all at once, veined and throbbing but also soft, and she watched as he ran his thumb around the flared head.

  Hazy nights spent at O'Kane parties had left her with a patchwork of blurry memories, of body parts and the ways they touched and came together. But she'd never wanted to look before. Now she couldn't look away. She watched his elegant fingers slide along his length, and felt an answer throb beneath her own fingertips, as if he was somehow touching her, too.

  So wrong. And so good.

  "Harder, sweetheart." He obeyed his own words, tightening his hand until his erection—his cock—jumped in his grip.

  Her body was buzzing. Her nipples were tight, sensitive to the rasp of her dress, but she couldn't touch them without the whole room seeing. It was a game, the kind she'd always been so good at. Control her expression, project calm. Smile, like she wasn't brazenly touching herself beneath the table.

  The thrill of it twisted her up. She let her thighs ease wider, until her knee bumped Jared's, knowing he'd be the only witness as she slipped her fingers beneath the thin fabric of her panties and sought out slickness and heat.

  He froze and shook his head. "Take them off."

  "What?"

  "You heard me,
Miss Lili." His voice was low, steady—and wrapped in unmistakable command. "Take off your fucking panties."

  Her heart raced. Goose bumps prickled over her skin. She was more raw and open to the overwhelming sensation of this moment than every other second of her life combined, but, for the first time, she wasn't afraid.

  Trix was right. He knew enough about pleasure for both of them, and the steel in his voice wasn't merely confidence—it was a promise.

  Slowly, struggling to give nothing away to any curious onlookers, she edged the fabric off her hips and down. It was a torturous process that involved enough squirming to make her whole body ache, and she squeezed her legs together once she had the scrap of lace firmly in one fist.

  He gathered the fabric in his free hand, his fingers gliding over hers as he took them. "Don't get shy. Our friends are waiting."

  Startled, she looked back to Rachel. The blonde had slowed her movements, her hips barely rocking as she stared across the space separating them. It didn't matter that the table shielded Lili's movements, or that the shadows should have protected her.

  Rachel knew. When their gazes met, Lili was sure of it. She knew, and Jared was right. Being watched brought a feverish glint to the woman's eyes, and knowing Lili was taking pleasure in her enjoyment only enhanced it.

  Only Jared could watch as Lili parted her legs again, but when her fingertips grazed her slick flesh, she couldn't keep her reaction from her face. Rachel smiled slowly, then closed her teeth on Ace's lower lip.

  Shuddering, Lili looked down—not to Jared's hand but to her own, her fingers trembling over the one part of her body she'd done her best to ignore. Pain was all she'd ever expected, the pain of being taken and used.

  Pussy. An insult in Sector Five. Not here. She wanted to form the word with her lips, whisper it. Scream it without shame, along with cock and fuck and all the other terrifying words that sounded thrillingly obscene when Jared whispered them in her ear.

  She might have, if she could have dragged in enough breath. But that was impossible with Jared so close, his hand moving up and down, stroking his cock.

  She tried to match his rhythm, but it wasn't enough. She needed something with a depth that drove her fingers in tighter and faster circles, until she'd centered on the spot that made everything in her tense with desperation.

  It felt good. Good enough to make her gasp, to leave her clutching at Jared's free hand. But frustration intruded, sharp and brittle. Maybe this was it, this trembling heat and the pulses that made her shudder. It was already more than she'd known possible—

  But there was something out of reach. Something she could almost feel, something that would turn need into relief.

  This time, there weren't just words in her ear. He whispered them, yes, but along with the barest hint of teeth on the sensitive shell. "Let it come."

  She turned blindly into him, panting against his cheek. It was impossible to relax when her muscles wanted to tense. Every part of her was wound so tight that something had to snap or the pressure would destroy her.

  Let it come.

  She stopped trying to force it and felt the pleasure. The heaviness in her breasts, the trembling in her thighs, the bright little sparks, each one a promise with the potential to catch fire, but each wonderful on its own.

  Between one breath and the next, she boiled over.

  The surge of relief was the only warning. She crushed her lips to Jared's cheek, but that couldn't muffle her helpless moan. It was as if every one of those sparks had flared up at once, hot and pulsing, and nothing else in the world existed for long, exhilarating moments.

  She wasn't made for pleasure. She was remade by it.

  He captured her mouth, swallowing her second moan and her third, urging her to ride out her orgasm. He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue sliding over hers, until her body was sated and the only thing making her mind spin was his mouth on hers.

  She broke away with a shiver and pressed her flushed cheek to his, her mouth close enough to his ear for her to whisper, "I understand now."

  "Yes?" The word trembled, but it didn't sound like weakness.

  It sounded like hunger.

  She glanced down to where his fist curled around his cock with a rougher grip than she would have dared. But she knew the bite of need now, the sting of frustration when pleasure was close.

  Without thinking, she reached for him, sliding her slick fingers over the base of his shaft. He was thick there, too thick for her fingers to meet her thumb, but the wetness made it easier to glide upward. "Like this?"

  His hand covered hers, squeezing tight. Tighter, until a groan rumbled free of his chest. "Wet," he murmured. "So wet, like you already came on my dick."

  She squeezed her thighs together against an unexpected pulse of renewed heat. The dull ache inside her sharpened into a word—empty.

  If she let Jared take her to bed, he'd work the hard flesh under her fingers deep into her body. The logistics had always seemed vaguely horrifying, but she knew better now. She'd melt for him, and he'd fill her. With pleasure, with satisfaction.

  With his cock, and this time she almost said the word out loud. She could taste it on the tip of her tongue—which brought the vivid memory of the night she'd met him. Of watching Rachel, on her knees, Cruz's cock literally on the tip of her tongue.

  Completely at her mercy. That was how Jared had described it, his whisper still vivid even if little else about that night was. And she finally understood. She squeezed her fist, and Jared's throat worked, his low sound almost as exhilarating as her own touch had been.

  This was what it felt like, giving someone else pleasure. It felt like power.

  "Faster," Jared growled, his hips twitching up with every stroke. "Christ, you're gonna make me come."

  Yes, she wanted that. Not just his pleasure, but these drunk, dizzy moments where she was a creature capable of making someone as strong and unshakable as Jared lose his grasp on control.

  She sped her movements, and he choked out her name. He swelled and pulsed in her hand, using her panties to catch most of the fluid that spurted from him in hot jets. It didn't stop it from dripping onto their entwined hands, tangible evidence of the power she'd claimed over his body, just as the lingering slickness on his shaft was proof of the power she'd claimed over her own.

  He released a long, shuddering breath and turned his dark, dark eyes on her. He held her gaze as he lifted his hand to her mouth and pushed his thumb between her lips.

  She tasted herself, tasted him. Salty and tart and impossible to separate, an arousing thought. Without thinking, she parted her lips for him, let him slip deeper, and touched her tongue to the tip of his thumb.

  He echoed the caress, dipping his head to lick the top bow of her lip, then turned her head again.

  Rachel wasn't trying to be subtle. With her head thrown back and her mouth open in a soundless cry, she rode Ace's hips with shameless abandon. Release—another word that finally made sense. So much pent-up need exploding outward at once, not just from Rachel but from Ace, who slammed his head back against the vinyl, his grimace more like agony than relief.

  "He can't come yet." Jared rubbed his thumb over Lili's lip as he pulled it free. "Not until Cruz lets him."

  At that moment, Cruz glanced at them, his gaze dark enough to evoke a purely instinctive shiver. Without looking away, he leaned close to Ace's ear and whispered something. The man's frustration melted into pleasure, and he gripped Rachel's hips and drove up with a moan Lili could feel.

  Rachel rode his shudders with abandon, her open mouth pressed to his, her nails raking his chest through his shirt. Cruz held them both, his strength and protectiveness a tangible shield.

  "They're the only ones in their world," Jared rasped. "But if they invite you in for a little while…"

  "Not me," she countered. By herself, she'd be an outsider, however welcome. Alone, even in the most intimate moments. "Us."

  "Mmm." Jared smiled, soft and slow. "Us."
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  Something fluttered inside her. Not low in her belly or between her thighs, but high in her chest, in the parts of her that had been frozen the longest.

  Us was a seductive word. The most illicit one he'd whispered tonight, because us sounded like a future they'd agreed not to agree upon. One of tenderness and safety and fucking.

  Lili barely understood love, but she already knew two things—it would be dangerously easy to fall in love with Jared, and the broken heart would be worth it.

  Chapter Ten

  The footsteps started when he was halfway home, and Jared was damn glad he'd left Lili in her own room, drunk on good-night kisses and her first real orgasm.

  At first, he chalked the steps up to his own footfalls echoing off the pitted brick walls of the taller buildings that comprised this part of the sector. The empty streets and bare alleys could do strange things to sound, play tricks with your mind. But when he varied the rhythm of his steps and the ones on his trail kept coming, steady but faster, he knew he was in a load of fucking trouble.

  There was no time to swing back around to the safety of the O'Kane compound, and nowhere to lay low. So Jared kept his pace slow, slid one hand into his pocket to close around his knife, and waited for the steps to draw closer.

  When they were right on his ass, he took a sharp left into the nearest dead-end alley—if nothing else, no way would they be able to flank him. He stopped at the back of the alley and turned to face his unexpected company.

  Three shadows spread out across the other end, backlit by the moonlight filtering down between the darkened buildings. Jared saw glints of steel—the serrated blade of a knife in one man's hand, the wallet chain hanging from another's belt loop—but no guns.

  Maybe he'd make it out of this all right, after all.

  Then a fourth man rounded the corner, moving with broad-shouldered self-assurance. He took up more space than the other three combined, and Jared focused on him immediately.

  The swagger meant he was their leader. The dramatic entrance meant appearances were important to him. He wouldn't tolerate being made to look bad in front of his crew—but Jared already suspected this was one fight he couldn't talk his way out of, anyway.