by Lora Leigh
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, his 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 hea
t 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 had 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.”
Tears filled her eyes as perspiration dampened her body. She fought against his hold, twisting, surging against him, needing. Oh God, she needed. So bad.
He pulled back again, ignoring her tight, smothered scream. Pausing at the entrance to her pussy, he stilled for a moment, letting her work herself on the crest. Her juices coated the condom-covered flesh as she stared down at where they met.
She pushed closer, gasped, cried out as he buried deeper, then deeper yet as his hips surged forward, his cock tearing past that last veil of innocence.
Rogue stilled. Her eyes flashed to his face from where he was buried inside her. Burning heat and liquid pleasure seemed to enfold her. She felt as though she was drowning in the contradictory sensations as she stared into the hard, savagely honed features of his face.
“I told you,” he grimaced. “Mine. Deny it, damn you.”
Rogue shook her head. She wouldn’t deny it. She wouldn’t confirm it. She didn’t know what belonging meant, and she was certain he had no idea what it meant to own that part of her.
He could have this. This was exquisite. It was desperate. It was real. This need, this burning hunger, every part of it. This she understood.
“Damn you,” he cursed again, pulled back, and buried fully inside her in one hard, long stroke.
He buried into her entire being. Rogue felt a flash stroke of emotion that made no sense as he moved over her. The cuffs fell away from her hands and she was touching him, holding him.
Locking her arms around his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his hips, her head tilted back and a low, drawn-out cry left her lips. He was moving hard and fast inside her now. Once he breached the barrier of her virginity, he didn’t let up, he didn’t stop.
His fingers tangled in her hair, turned her head, and his lips were on the column of her neck. Hard, fierce kisses, the scrape of his teeth, a nip, and the quick, hard thrusts inside her were the catalyst. The explosion when it came destroyed her. She felt parts of herself dissolving, burning, turning to ash. She couldn’t scream, she could barely breathe.
Eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling as a heated kiss was pressed to her neck, and she felt herself free-falling. She was lost to the sensations burning around her, through her. She was lost to Zeke, and she was very much afraid she just might truly belong to him in ways that might end up terrifying her later.
“Ah God!” A harsh exclamation left his lips, his thrusts became harder, ratcheting her release higher until she felt him shudder. Felt his kiss at her neck become more fierce, hotter. Marking her. He had marked her. Again.
Rogue tightened her hold on him, keeping him to her as she clenched through the final tremors of her release, and exhaustion began to claim her.
Her legs slid to the bed, but her arms remained around his neck. She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to lose him tonight.
“Don’t leave yet,” she whispered, her voice slurring from the exertion and the pleasure. “Not yet.”
“Not yet,” he agreed, his lips caressing her ear. “Not even soon.”
She wanted to whimper as he pulled back. Instead, she loosened her hold and let him move, watching as he straightened from the bed and headed to the bathroom.
She was surprised when she heard the shower running and disappointed for the few seconds it took before he returned to the bedroom.
“Come on, naughty baby.” He picked her up in his arms before she could protest and carried her to the bathroom. “We’ll shower and see if you won’t let me sleep a few minutes tonight.”
She cuddled against his chest rather than protesting that he was the one that was keeping her awake. She didn’t want to protest it, she loved it. Craved it. She wondered if she would ever have enough.
Zeke had a feeling he would never have enough of the fiery-haired little hellion he carried to the shower. Placing her on her feet, he crowded her into the glass stall before closing the door and letting the water fall
over them.
She stared up at him, her expression slumberous, and he swore his chest clenched in response to it. When had any woman affected him as this one had? He had never showered with one before. He had never soaped a washcloth and cleaned another woman’s body as he was washing Rogue’s. And she had never been cared for in this fashion.
She was a virgin. Untouched. Untried. Unmolded. Her body would fit his alone now, she would always remember his touch, always know who had been the first.
Damn, pride swelled as hard and thick inside him as his dick swelled between his thighs. She had waited. He didn’t want to fool himself into believing that she had waited for him, there lay disaster. There lay a relationship that could end up destroying the balance he had found in his life.
Holding back with her hadn’t been easy. He had freed just enough of the dominance inside of him that he could be easy with her now, gentle. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted so much more. He wanted her so wild she didn’t know her own name. He wanted her screaming out for him. He wanted her swearing she belonged to him, and to him alone.
And once she did, he asked himself, what then? Could he swear himself to her?
As he watched suds slide sensually from the slender line of her back, over the pale, full globes of her ass, the question taunted him. He had promised himself he would never vow his soul to another woman. He had done that with Elaina. With their marriage he had given her parts of himself he hadn’t been comfortable letting go of at the time. And over the years, he had learned to regret it.
He couldn’t let regret stain whatever was developing between him and Rogue. Ignoring his own needs wouldn’t work. As he watched the suds cover her rear, his teeth clenched at the needs that began to fill him again.
He couldn’t let her go. Not yet. And he knew whatever this was between them, it would be nothing as it had been with past lovers. He wouldn’t be leaving Rogue’s bed when dawn broke. He’d be lucky if he managed to get to work on time. Because he was hungry. Because this need clawing at his guts warned him he wouldn’t know a measure of satiation for many hours yet.