by Leigh, Lora
“Zeke, please,” she whispered as the pleasure began to build and tighten between her thighs.
“Oh, you please me very much,” he promised before his lips pursed over her clit and gave her a sucking little kiss.
Her hips arched as excruciating pleasure tore through her from the caress.
“Easy, baby,” he crooned as he lifted his head. “Just feel good for me.”
His lips returned, another kiss, the feel of his fingers easing through her juices, moving lower, lower, then touching, caressing the entrance to her rear.
Sensation whipped through her; it drove white-hot spikes of pleasure through her clit, her womb. Heat whipped through her, bonded her to him.
His fingers were as wicked as his mouth. He drew her dampness from her pussy back to the tiny entrance of her rear. He stroked, he massaged, then one broad finger slid inside her, stretching the opening and sending flares of heat racing through her.
She wanted more. Needed more. She could feel her mind dissolving as she cried out, arched, and drove his finger deeper only to cry out in protest as he retreated.
“Turn over, Rogue.”
He didn’t give her time to turn. Before she could catch her breath he rose between her thighs, gripped her hips, and turned her to her stomach.
Rogue felt the hands at her hips pulling her to her knees.
His hand smoothed over her rear, then landed in a series of small, heated taps that had her shuddering, shaking from need as he used the fingers of his other hand to lubricate and stretch her rear.
She was panting for breath, feeling the burning stretch of his fingers, the tension in the air, the hunger that seemed to sear every inch of her flesh.
She was crying out his name, lost in sensation, lost in the pure dominance of what he was doing. The significance of the act swirled through her head. A sense of submission, of bonding wove silk-covered chains through her psyche.
When she felt the broad head of his cock against the opening she stilled, barely able to breathe now and definitely unable to protest.
“Are you mine, Rogue?” His hand smoothed over her rear before he used both hands to part the cheeks of her.
“Are you mine?” Her voice was strangled, the need to own as much of him as he owned of her tearing inside her.
“Always yours now, Rogue.” His voice was heavy as he held her still and pressed inside her. “All of me, Rogue. Take all of me.”
“Oh God, Zeke.” Her back arched as burning pleasure tore through her. Her rear parted beneath the pressure as jagged lightning-hot sensations began to race through the nerve endings there.
She thought the pleasure couldn’t become more brutal. She thought she had experienced everything she could know about the extremity of sensation.
When the broad head popped inside the tender entrance, Zeke paused. She was lost in the flames of that small penetration when she felt another one.
“Zeke!” She tried to scream his name, but the breathless sound was more of a weak plea.
She felt the vibration of the vibrator tuck against the entrance to her pussy. Felt his wrist moving against her thigh as he impaled her slowly with it.
“There, baby,” he crooned behind her as the toy slid slowly inside her, parting her, working every nerve ending with an insidious, buzzing caress.
When it was lodged fully inside her she thought she was going insane from the pleasure. The vibration of the toy inside her set mini-explosions off inside her nerve endings. Her pussy flexed around it, her rear tightened around the intrusion easing inside it. She was a singular mass of sensation and she was drowning in the pleasure-pain filling her.
“Easy,” Zeke groaned behind her.
Easy? She didn’t want easy. She wanted it all.
“Here, baby.” He grabbed her arm, eased it down until her hand was between her thighs. “Hold it inside you.”
Rogue whimpered at the demand as her fingers curled around the heavy base. He pressed her hand forward, pushing the toy fully inside her until the thick, rough extension that rose from the base began to massage her clit.
She lost her mind, her senses. Sensation tore through her as Zeke began to move behind her. His hands gripped her hips; his cock surged into her ass as he began to fuck her with long, even strokes. She was filled, stretched, burning, and aware of each and every stroke against nerve endings that were too sensitive to bear the pleasure for long.
Her pussy was filled, stretched tight with the buzzing toy. Her ass was on fire from the heavy strokes he was pounding into her now. She could feel every pulsing throb of his erection, each thick vein that ran the length of it.
Her head dug into the mattress as his hands tightened on her hips, and she felt the pleasure begin to build to critical mass inside her.
Every bone and muscle in her body began to tighten. She lost control of her senses, of her body. Fiery flames raced over her flesh and exploded in her womb as a long, agonized wail left her mouth.
Shock waves of destructive ecstasy flamed out of control and tore through her sensitive flesh as pinpoints of sensation ruptured inside her.
She screamed his name, the muscles of her rear tightened, trying to lock his erection inside her. Her pussy clenched on the vibrator, tightened. Her clit exploded in a cataclysm of sensation that raced to her pussy, her womb, and every point beyond as she heard him cry out her name.
He thrust inside her hard and deep, his hands tightened on her, the hard muscles of his thighs pressed into the backs of her legs, and within seconds she felt his release.
The feel of each shockingly heated spurt of semen inside her threw her higher, harder into the maelstrom of rapture.
She was flying through space and time, locked in a pleasure so intense she wondered if her heart could bear it.
Her back arched, her nails dug into the blankets, and finally, with one last powerful explosion inside her, she was flung into a place where only heat and pleasure resided. Where she knew nothing, felt nothing but the sensation coursing through her.
She was left shaking, trembling in exhaustion when it was finished. She had collapsed to the bed. Zeke covered her, still buried inside her, his lips at her neck, his groans still filling her ears.
His hands still gripped her hips, his lips were pressed into her neck, his kiss as fierce as the hold he had on her.
“God, yes,” he groaned. “Ah God, Rogue.”
His voice was tormented, breathless. Behind her, his chest rose and fell harshly against her back as her flesh spasmed in pleasure around his cock and the erotic toy still pressed inside her.
At least the vibrator wasn’t buzzing any longer. At some point he must have turned it off. Damned good thing he had, because she doubted she had the mental capacity to do it.
But she had emotional capacity. Her heart, her soul, and she knew she had just given both to Zeke.
EIGHTEEN
She was going to destroy him. That was the singular thought in his head as Zeke carefully covered Rogue with a blanket after she slipped into an exhausted slumber. She slept as deeply as a child, curled up in the center of the bed. Red gold lashes feathered her cheeks, her pink lips free of lipstick, her face free of makeup, she looked like some innocent little fairy come to tempt his mind to insanity.
She was doing a damned good job of making him crazy, too. Because he knew he wouldn’t let her go after tonight. She was his, and now she was going to have to deal with the man she had tempted from the darkness.
She could handle him, of that Zeke was certain. The problem was would she want to handle him once she learned the ground rules?
Checking to make certain she was sleeping deeply after their shower, he cleaned the vibrator he had placed in the drawer of his bedside table after she had been at the house the last time and returned it and the tube of lubricating gel into the drawer.
He had known it would come to this. He had known that when he got her in his bed, where that loss of control would lead to.
After kiss
ing her brow gently, he dressed and left the house. It was still dark, though dawn wasn’t far away. Which meant he didn’t have much time to do what he needed to do.
He was in control now, but he hadn’t maintained his control earlier. He had known the moment he bared her pretty ass to his gaze that he was severely out of control. Thank God that she hadn’t realized the line he had been riding. But he had known. He had known and he hadn’t been able to pull himself back from the brink.
It had been all he could do not to spank her as he wanted to, and that was only because he had been so desperate to test her sexual submission to him.
She was innocent, as of days ago, a virgin. She wouldn’t have known the implications of what he was doing to her, and she shouldn’t have accepted it so easily. There should have been a measure of fear, of wariness from her. He had expected to have to ease her, gentle her. Instead, she had lifted that pert little butt right up to him and invited him to do his worst.
He wiped his hand over his face as he started the truck’s engine and reversed out of the driveway. She had taken a part of him that night that he didn’t think he would ever be able to give a woman. She had stolen his heart when he had believed he didn’t have a heart to steal.
It wasn’t just the sex or her submission to it. It wasn’t any one thing, Zeke realized. It was the realization at the moment he had taken her that she didn’t just belong to him, but he belonged to her. Because in all the years that he had known of the dark sexual core he possessed, he had never known a woman like Rogue.
She was adventurous, wild as the wind, but steady, honorable. She was a woman that would love a man with every ounce of her heart, and he knew she loved him. It had been in her eyes, in her sighs, in every response she had given to every touch he had bestowed.
She was his, and protecting her was his right, ensuring that she was never, ever harmed was his privilege. Making certain he never lost her because of the job that meant so much to him was imperative.
That part would be harder than what he was setting out to do tonight. Tonight, he would make certain one particular man understood that he was never to lay his hands on her again.
Keeping control when he had driven up on the scene had nearly been impossible. Giving in to her demands that he release Jonesy had been even harder. But he had realized something about Rogue a long time ago. She would lay down her own life for a friend; she had proved that when she had defended Shane and lost her own reputation. He wasn’t going to risk such a confrontation, especially in public, over Jonesy.
No, he would take care of Jonesy privately, just between the two of them while Rogue slept.
It didn’t take more than a half hour to arrive at the Bar. It was close to four in the morning now, but Jonesy’s truck was still in the parking lot, as Zeke knew it would be.
The bartender was usually in the bar until daylight, leaving just as the sun peeked over the horizon and didn’t return until just before the evening shift. His assistant bartenders along with Rogue opened the bar at five every evening except Sunday.
He pulled his truck into the front lot and shut off the engine before leaving the vehicle. The front door was locked until Zeke strode up to it and pounded on the heavy panel.
He didn’t have to wait long before it was pushed open and Jonesy stepped outside, his expression wary. Bald and heavily muscled, Jonesy was a bull of a man that most men were uncertain of antagonizing.
Zeke intended to do more than antagonize him.
“Change your mind about arrestin’ me?” Jonesy’s broad face twisted into a sneer as he faced Zeke, his heavy fists clenching. “Ain’t you scared Rogue might cry a little bit if you do?”
A hard laugh left the bartender’s throat at the statement. As though the thought of Rogue crying amused him. It sent a spurt of pure undiluted rage building inside him.
“Whether or not Rogue sheds tears over you isn’t what concerns me, Jonesy,” Zeke drawled. “The bruises you left on her arm tonight does.”
For a moment there was a flicker of regret in the bartender’s eyes. It was gone just as quickly and replaced with a hateful sneer.
“She don’t ever listen to reason,” he bit out furiously. “That girl waded right into that fight as though it was her business who was slingin’ fists. Better a bruise on the arm from me than a snapped neck from someone else.”
Like hell.
Zeke didn’t intend to stand around arguing with the other man; he had come here for a reason.
“This makes the second time you’ve laid your hand on what belongs to me,” Zeke state softly. “You don’t touch what’s mine, Jonesy, not for any reason. No way, no how.”
“Last I heard no man had papers on that girl,” Jonesy grunted. “I been watching out for her for four years now. Where the hell were you when she needed someone at her back? You were whorin’, Sheriff. Sleeping with tramps and trash while I was watching after Rogue. Now you think you can waltz right in here and treat her like you treat your flybys? Not while I can still talk some sense into her.”
“Like one of my flybys?” Zeke’s eyes narrowed.
“Yeah, your fly-by-night little whores that you keep hanging on a string. You know, Sheriff, the ones you hide in the day and fuck at night? Or was I wrong about Rogue? Maybe hangin’ with that Walker trash has rubbed off on her after all.”
That was it. Zeke saw the haze of red that descended over his eyes. Before he could hold back the impulse, adrenaline surged through his veins. His fist flew, collided with Jonesy’s rock-hard jaw, and sent the other man careening into the side of the building.
Jonesy was a bull of a man. The hit that took him by surprise wasn’t the only one it would take to make him realize who was the top dog in Rogue’s life. Zeke would rather kill him, hell, he’d rather lock him up and see him suffer, but he knew Rogue would never stand for it.
That meant going at it man to man.
The fight that ensued was one of the hardest fistfights Zeke had been in, possibly in his life. Jonesy’s fists were like hams and slammed into flesh like bricks. Zeke’s kidneys took a bruising and if Zeke wasn’t mistaken, Jonesy may have lost a tooth.
“You bastard!” Jonesy cursed when his fist missed Zeke’s jaw.
A second later a strangled, “Fuck you!” tore from Jonesy’s lips as Zeke kicked him back against the cement wall of the bar.
Jonesy’s nose was bleeding, his lips were split, there was a cut beneath his eye, and he was holding his stomach where Zeke had landed a hard kick only moments before.
Jonesy surged away from the wall. This time, his broad fist connected with Zeke’s jaw, throwing him back as stars exploded before his eyes for precious seconds. It gave Jonesy the opening he needed to slam another fist into his kidneys and another hard right to his jaw.
Zeke buried his fist in Jonesy’s gut, threw him back, slammed his fist into his stomach again, his jaw, and another to his kidneys.
The bartender went to his knees, coughing, wheezing as he held his stomach.
“Touch her again, and next time, you’ll spend time behind bars,” Zeke warned him, his own breathing rough, tearing in his chest as he dragged Jonesy up by the torn collar of his shirt and threw him back up against the wall. “Do you understand me, Jonesy?”
“I didn’t hurt her,” Jonesy coughed roughly. “I wouldn’t hurt Rogue.”
“Do you understand me?” He slammed Jonesy’s head against the wall. “Answer me, damn you.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I said you don’t touch her again. Ever,” Zeke snarled.
“I don’t know about you, Zeke, but I think he understands now.”
Zeke froze at the sound of Rogue’s voice behind him. He could feel his stomach tighten now with a sense of dread. Hell, she was supposed to be at home asleep.
“We’re fucked,” Jonesy wheezed out a whisper, his eyes widening as he stared back at Zeke. “Shit. Damn. She’s gonna de-ball us.”
“Let him go, Zeke.” Her
voice was soft, the enunciation of each word carefully precise.
Zeke eased his grip on Jonesy’s shirt, grimaced, and once again met Jonesy’s gaze.
“Stay out of this,” he warned the bartender softly.
“Way out.” Jonesy nodded quickly. “So far out I’m just a memory.”
This was bad and Zeke knew it. He clenched his teeth, exhaled, then turned to face the wrath of Rogue.
A cab was pulling out of the parking lot behind her. She stood there, dressed in the leather skirt she had worn the night before and his white shirt. The shirt hung below the skirt and made the black platform heels look even more wicked than they had before.
“You’re supposed to be at the house,” he said, keeping his voice firm, even. “I left you there for a reason.”
She looked around him where the entrance door to the bar slammed closed behind Jonesy. Jonesy was running like a rat off a sinking ship.
“So you could beat up my friend?” Anger glittered in her eyes and flushed her face as she moved slowly toward him, each step slow and careful.
Wild, waist-length red gold curls swirled around her in the early dawn light. Violet eyes glittered with fury in her pale face.
She looked like an enraged fairy intent on murder and mayhem. And it was his ass she was intent on murdering.
“So I could come to an understanding with your friend,” he told her, wiping his mouth with his arm as he moved, striding toward her and gripping her arm in a firm hold.
“Let me go!” She jerked at his hold, her expression twisting with fury. “Don’t even try to touch me.”
“Upstairs.” Zeke hardened his voice as he pulled her to the door Jonesy had gone through earlier. “Now. I’m not going to fight with you in the parking lot.”
“Why not, you fought Jonesy in the parking lot,” she screamed back at him, trying to kick out at him as he pulled her to the entrance. “You can damned well fight me here.”
“Jonesy is a whole other matter, Rogue.” Zeke tamped down the frustration rising inside him. He kept his control firmly in place. The situation with Jonesy was resolved as far as he was concerned. Man to man. He had a feeling Jonesy wouldn’t forget the consequences of manhandling Rogue again.