Nauti Deceptions

by Leigh, Lora

  “Oh God. Zeke.” She felt it. His teeth rasping over the tender tip, sending a flood of sensation racing to her clit and the depths of her pussy.

  Her muscles spasmed inside, clenched, and a sense of emptiness overwhelmed her.

  She tried not to watch him. Watching his lips tugging at her breast, feeling his tongue curl around the swollen tip triggered sensations that bit into her womb with sharp, erotic teeth as her heart pounded out of control.

  But she was still in control. She assured herself she was. Until his lashes lifted, then his knee bent and pressed between her thighs as he lowered his arm and pulled her hips forward.

  Oh Lord, have mercy. The butter-soft leather slid over denim, pressing his thigh firmly against the swollen, sensitive flesh of her pussy until she was riding his thigh.

  It was exquisite. It was the most pleasure Rogue had ever known in her life, and she was desperate for more. She whimpered at the need, at the pleasure.

  She wanted to hold him to her, desperate to feel every sensation, every chaotic emotion raging through her. This was Zeke, and she had waited so long, had dreamed for so long.

  “Let me touch you,” she moaned, straining against the hold he had on her wrists as his head lifted, his lips raking over the valley between her breasts. He nudged the camisole over her other breast, kissed around the enflamed tip of her nipple, and without answering or giving in to her plea, drew it into his mouth.

  There was no such thing as control in Zeke’s arms. There was only this. Flashpoints of pleasure that seared her, left her trembling, damp with perspiration, and shaking as his hand slid down her stomach to the low-rise band of her pants.

  The snap and zipper were dealt with quickly, efficiently. The edges spread apart as he slid his thigh back and pressed his hand inside.

  Rogue froze. Even the breath seemed suspended in her lungs as his fingers inched lower, lower.

  She was slick and wet. She could feel it against the crotch of the thong she wore. The swollen inner lips were heated, slick, bare of curls, and awaiting his touch.

  His fingers paused just above her clit. His head lifted from her breast with one last lick to her hypersensitive nipple.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  The question shocked her. It tore through her mind with all the implications of the truth that might cause him to walk away from her.

  “Oh really, Zeke,” she chided breathlessly, weakly. “I’m a bar owner and a biker chick. Do you really think I’m a virgin?”

  Brave last words. She almost snorted at her own daring in lying to him. It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t find out the truth soon enough if this continued.

  The sharp little nip to her lips and the narrowing of his gaze was a warning.

  “That was a nice, evasive little answer.”

  She gasped as he released her wrists, only to swing her up in his arms and stride into the bedroom. Within seconds she was bouncing on the bed, pushing at her hair as it fell over her eyes and feeling his hands at her hips, dragging her pants over her thighs.

  He didn’t waste time. Evidently, he must have felt as though he had already wasted enough time. Her shoes were slipped from her feet and the pants tossed to the floor before she could protest. If she meant to protest. She was certain she didn’t.

  Why would she protest? He was staring between her thighs, his expression tight, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he straightened and began unbuttoning his shirt quickly. Just his look was enough to make her breath short and labored, enough to cause her heart to tighten and ache with the emotions racing through her.

  And this was more than a casual fuck to him as well. What tomorrow would bring she had no idea, but for now, this meant something to him. Dark emotion shadowed his eyes and tormented desire filled the air around them.

  “Take off the vest,” he ordered.

  There wasn’t a request in his voice, it was an order, plain and simple.

  It made her shiver. The dominance in his expression, in his voice, it was wild and erotic and called to the wildness Rogue had fought to keep in check inside herself, for so long.

  Her fingers fell to the vest as she sat up. It slid easily from her shoulders.

  “The camisole.” His shirt fell to the floor before he sat down on the edge of the bed to jerk his boots off.

  Rogue pulled the camisole off as she fought the disconcerting feeling of being naked in front of him. No one had seen her naked since she was a child. But Zeke was seeing her now.

  He rose to his feet, his hands going to the belt that cinched his hips. He unbuckled it quickly, confidently. The snap and zipper on his jeans came next. Then he was shedding them along with the snug boxer briefs he wore. The material slid over his powerful thighs and released the heavy length of his cock to her avid gaze.

  She’d had him in her mouth. She’d tasted his release. But she hadn’t really seen his erection until now. Hard, thick, heavily veined. The crest was dark, flared out, and flushed with an excess of lust with a small drop of pre-cum gracing the tip.

  Rogue licked her lips, the remembered taste of his release sizzling her senses.

  She was reaching for him when his hands landed on her shoulders. One knee braced on the bed, he pushed her back, loomed over her, his head lowering, his lips taking hers. He took the kiss he wanted. His lips captured hers, held them imprisoned as his tongue slid between them and conquered hers. The kiss was hard, erotic, so sensual that the pleasure of it slammed into her senses, igniting the lust already flaming out of control.

  The rasp of his chest hairs against her nipples had her arching close, crying out. Pleasure shouldn’t be this extreme. It shouldn’t be filled with such wonder and such desperation.

  One knee slid between her thighs, pressed high and firm until she was rocking her clit against the heavy muscle of his thigh. And it was so good. It was blazing. Hot. It was so much pleasure, so many sensations that she wondered if she would survive the inferno.

  She had waited so long for this. So many years. And now here she was, naked, lying beneath his heavy, muscular body, her hands touching him, her fingertips catching each flex of his hard biceps as his kiss ravaged her senses.

  “Now.” He pulled back, stared down at her, his gaze hard, brilliant, the color of raw gold as he watched her with predatory awareness. “Now, Rogue, you get to see why I waited. Why I tried like hell to stay away from you. We’ll get to see just how brave you are.”

  ELEVEN

  How brave would she have to be? It was a distant thought that raced through her brain. There one second, gone the next as he pulled back from her and reached down for his jeans.

  When he returned he tossed a condom on the nightstand and in the next second she saw the flash of handcuffs just before Zeke caught her wrists, pulled them up, and had her secured to one of the found iron pipes that made the headboard of her bed.

  Her eyes flashed up to where the cuffs circled her wrists, then back to Zeke in surprise. There was no teasing smile on his face, only pure, dominant lust as he stared down at her.

  “Is this supposed to scare me?” She jangled the metal restraints and let a smile shape her lips. “Oh, Sheriff, the fantasies I’ve had about you and these cuffs.”

  He didn’t grin back. His fingertips ran from between her breasts to the mound of her pussy, his gaze following the path they took before returning to hers.

  “Frighten you?” he asked. “No, Rogue, this shouldn’t frighten you at all. I’d never hurt you.”

  The tone of his voice had her heart rate increasing. It was darker, rougher, as though the hunger that glittered in his eyes was at the edge of slipping the leash she could sense he had on it.

  She wasn’t frightened, but she was wary. Zeke wasn’t joking, he was intent, fiercely controlled. Her heart was racing in her chest as his palm flattened on her abdomen and his lips lowered to her neck.

  “There’s a reason why you don’t want me to touch you?” she asked.

  “There is,” he admitted, hi
s voice rough. “I want you to feel every touch, every sensation. Don’t worry about anything else. Just feel.”

  His teeth raked over her shoulder. Heated pleasure jumped through the nerve endings there and seared her with heat.

  “What if I want to touch you, too?” she gasped.

  “Too bad.” His hands stroked down her side, fingertips pressing, feeling her.

  “Not into mutual pleasure, huh?” She breathed in roughly as he parted her thighs, his head lifting, his gaze locking with hers.

  “I’m into you, Rogue,” he said then. “And very soon, I’m going to be so into you that you won’t know where you end and I begin.”

  A cry fell from her lips as his teeth raked over a nipple, then his lips closed over it. He didn’t stop there, he lingered long enough to have her arching, writhing beneath his touch before he went to her other breast, tortured it with pleasure, and stoked the arousal burning inside her higher.

  There was something about Zeke’s touch that stole her mind. She would have never trusted another man enough to restrain her, she knew she wouldn’t. But with Zeke the progression of fantasy to reality seemed natural. It was white-hot flames licking over her body where his tongue touched, but it felt natural.

  It was Zeke. Hard, intent. The man she couldn’t get out of her head, and he was touching her.

  Rogue heard the moan that fell from her lips and would have been surprised by the desperation in it if she had been able to actually think clearly. She couldn’t think, she could only feel. Feel what he was doing to her. Feel his hands spreading her thighs, his lips traveling from her breasts along her abdomen, the way his hands pulled her legs apart and he lay between them.

  “I’ve dreamed about tasting you here again.” His lips were at her hip bone. A kiss, a little nip that had her arching and crying out at the pleasure.

  “So pretty.” The backs of his fingers slid along the swollen flesh of her flesh. “Flushed and damp. You’re so wet for me, Rogue.”

  She could feel more of her juices easing from her vagina, coating her inner lips, tormenting her with the need for his touch.

  A jerk of reaction tore through her body at the first fiery lick against her clit. A wild cry spilled from her lips as sensation raced along through the tiny bundle of nerves and sent spasms of pleasure clenching her womb.

  Her feet dug into the mattress, her eyes opened, and she became lost in the sight of what he was doing to her. Gently, tenderly, his fingers parted the folds. His jaw tightened for long seconds before his lips parted and a breath of air struck the ultrasensitive bud of her clit before his tongue stroked through the slick folds.

  Jerking, moaning, Rogue felt a landslide of pleasure begin to explode through her body. She trembled beneath him, anticipation and hunger building inside her as she fought to hold on to some part of herself.

  She was losing herself in his touch. She could feel it. Every cell of her body was reaching out for him as her heart opened, her soul melted, and she felt herself melding to him.

  “Damn, you taste like candy,” he rasped, his voice tight, rough. “So fucking sweet I could drown in you.”

  But he licked instead. From the fluttering opening of her vagina to the hard throb of her clit. One slow, long lick as she watched, breathless. His tongue hovered over the bundle of nerves then, flickered around it, stroked, and caressed and sent her flying into a maelstrom of complete eroticism.

  The pleasure was torrential. It washed over her, through her, built and rose until she was swamped with sensation with each lick. Then his lips pursed as they covered her clit to deliver a gentle, ecstatic little kiss that nearly sent her flying into rapture.

  Sensation after sensation slammed through her system. Her womb clenched with it, her sex was drenched in it.

  She wanted to close her eyes. She wanted to revel in the pleasure tearing through her. But she wanted to watch. She wanted to stare in his eyes as she was now, and watch as he enjoyed her, tortured her, left her shaking, so close to release she could feel it burning at the edge of her mind.

  “Go over, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Go over for me.”

  His lips closed over her clit. He sucked the little bud into his mouth, his tongue caressed around it, over it, flickered against it, and she exploded. Like a catapult, sensation flew inside her, exploded, vibrating through her body with a violence that had her screaming out his name as she arched to him and felt the quaking sensations tear through her.

  Rapture. It was ecstasy. It was bright lights in front of her eyes and sparks detonating one explosion after another through her senses. It was feeling him touch her, inside and out. It was knowing she would never be the same after Zeke’s possession.

  And he didn’t stop.

  She screamed his name again as his hand slid beneath her rear, clenched, and lifted her until his tongue could plunge inside her. The quick, fierce thrust had her melting, then imploding. Her senses were rioting with the overwhelming pleasure. Perspiration ran from her flesh as her fingers clenched the iron bar her hands were cuffed to.

  Shudders tore through her body. The pleasure was torturous, extreme. It singed every nerve ending, sent flames racing across her flesh, and left her wilder than she had been before.

  She wanted more.

  Opening her eyes she stared back at Zeke as he rose between her thighs, his fingers rolling the condom over the stiff length of his cock.

  For a second, she considered telling him it was her first time. She almost allowed the words to pass her lips. But she forced them back. She didn’t want gentle and tender. She wanted Zeke as he was now, primal, hungry, his gaze reflecting the wildness she felt tearing through her as well.

  “Lift to me.” Still sitting on his knees, his hand gripped her hip, pulling her up his thighs until her legs draped at his hips and the heavy width of his cock head pressed against the sensitive folds of her pussy.

  “Oh God,” she breathed out, feeling the heat and hardness through the latex as the hard crown pressed against her, into her.

  Seeing Zeke, muscles tight and bulging, his hands holding her hips as he pressed against her, stole her breath, her senses.

  He watched her as though nothing mattered but her—taking her, touching her. The feel of his erection stretching her, pressing deeper fed the wild need burning inside her. She bucked closer. Needing more. She didn’t want slow and easy. She wanted to go wild beneath him, yet he restrained her, held her, watched her, and eased in by only the barest inch before pulling back.

  “What are you waiting for?” Bucking against him, she fought the restraints at her wrists and glared back at him.

  He was trying to kill her. He had to be. He was torturing her past bearing.

  But he was just as tortured. Sweat rolled in a thin, damp line down the side of his neck as he stilled, staring down at her, his golden eyes fierce and intent. Desperation hovered in his expression, in the tight lines of his face as hunger glittered in his eyes.

  “I need you,” she whispered the plea, begging for more. If he stopped now, could she bear it?

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his voice dark and low. “Say it, Rogue. Admit it. You’re mine.”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t belong to him, she didn’t know how to belong to anyone, and she knew he didn’t know how.

  “Say it, Rogue.” He pressed deeper, stretched untried tissue, heated it with his strength and hardness. “Tell me. Mine.” The words were a snarl, a growl of ownership as his cock dug in deeper, parted her flesh, and sent a hard, fierce jolt of electric pleasure racing through her.

  “Maybe,” she gasped desperately. “We can negotiate. I promise, we’ll negotiate. Later.”

  Negotiate? Oh Lord, where had she come up with that one? She stared back at him and might have laughed at his expression if the need wasn’t pumping hard and fast through her veins.

  She had managed to surprise him. She liked that, loved it. He may have the upper hand on her here in the bed, but she still ha
d the ability to affect him as well.

  She jerked at the cuffs again. If only she were free. If only she could touch him, tempt the control that seemed as iron hard as the flesh barely buried inside her.

  “Negotiate?” he asked carefully, his eyes narrowing, his hands flexing on her hips. “You want to negotiate on whether or not you belong to me, Rogue?”

  “Yes,” she promised breathlessly, nodding, trying to thrust against his hold. “Later.”

  A smile curled at the ends of his lips. It wasn’t a comfortable smile.

  “Oh, bad baby,” his chuckle was dark, knowing. “Negotiate this first.”

  He slid deeper, pressed inside her slow and easy until the barrier of her virginity drew him to a halt once again.

  Mocking amazement widened his eyes as he felt the shield of her virginity. “Why, Rogue, would you have lied to me?”

  She shook her head quickly. She hadn’t lied. She really hadn’t.

  “Don’t stop, Zeke. Please don’t stop.”

  “You lied to me, sweetheart.” He glanced to where his erection was buried no more than an inch inside her. “What if I want to punish you for that?”

  “Technicality,” she gasped, tightening around the flesh she held captive. “We’ll argue later, damn you. Fuck me, Zeke, before I die for it.”

  She bucked against him again, her hips jerking against his hold enough that she was nearly free, that she felt a hard stab into the fragile barrier. But she felt pleasure as well. Enough that it stole her breath, left her gasping and twisting in his arms in an attempt to experience more, to know where the sensations racing through her were threatening to take her.

  Hard, calloused hands held her hips still as he moved against her. Slowly. His cock slipped back, then returned. Slow, easy, shallow thrusts that had adrenaline pumping through her system and hungry flames burning around her.

  “Not enough,” she cried out, her hands clenched around the bars of the bed. “Not enough, Zeke. Please.”