His hands continued on their exploratory journey, coming round to the front of her thighs. He trailed his fingertips across the front of her lace panties. For once, they matched her bra. She did a mental happy dance for coordinating today.
“Open your legs.”
She did and the scent of her arousal filled the air.
He leaned forward, pressed his nose into her crotch and inhaled. “Fuck, Grace. Your pussy smells amazing. Good enough to eat.”
A delicious heat unfurled itself right throughout her body. Her fingers and toes tingled. She wanted to press her thighs together to ease the ache in her clit. She imagined gripping his hair and forcing him to lick her. Could practically feel his wet, rough tongue sliding against her heated folds.
Zeke glanced up. The look in his eyes—dark, possessive and feral—stole her breath. “Ever had a man eat your pretty pussy?”
She nodded, unable to vocalize that she had, but they’d never quite hit the right spot no matter how much guidance she gave them. She’d always thought that maybe oral sex wasn’t for her.
He growled. “I’m gonna eat your pussy so good you’ll forget all the men who’ve come before me. I want you to come all over my face. I’m gonna make you beg to come, over and over, until you’re screaming out my name.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Her skin was one fire. Her inner walls clenched in anticipation of what was about to happen. She had no doubt Zeke could make her forget about every other man. None of her previous lovers, and there hadn’t been many, held a candle to him. He was pure masculine Alpha. Dangerous and dominating.
And she needed him like she needed oxygen.
He gave her a slow smirk that told her he knew the affect he was having. Without any other words, he pulled her panties to one side and feasted. The first rasp of his tongue against her heated core made her body jolt in shock.
“Hold on to me,” he murmured against her folds.
She felt the vibrations of his lips on hers and shuddered again. Instinctively, her hands tangled in his hair. She anchored herself to him as he licked up then down her drenched slit. He took his time, teasing her. After what seemed like an eternity, he parted her folds and sucked her already plump clit. He French kissed the tiny bundle of nerves, paying it as much attention as he would her mouth.
“Oh, oh,” she panted, digging her fingers into his scalp.
He chuckled, and it resonated deep inside her pussy. An orgasm rushed to the surface as the tingling at the base of her spine increased.
“Yes,” she hissed. It had been so long since anyone other than her trusty vibrator had given her an orgasm.
She thrust her hips forward and his nose bumped her pubic bone. She wanted to grind against him. Needing the pressure. Needing to come.
Just as the orgasm was about to burst over her, Zeke pulled back and released her clit with a wet sucking sound.
The tingling retreated. Her pussy hummed with unfulfilled release.
Zeke glanced up, a wicked grin on his rugged face. “No coming yet, Grace. You need to beg me for it first.”
His stubble glistened with her juices. It was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.
He dove back in, relentlessly licking, sucking and kissing. Every time he brought her to the edge of orgasm, he pulled back, dragging the delicious release out of her grasp. Frustration only added to the heat between her thighs. She’d never been in to orgasm denial, but she had to admit, it was hot, hot, hot.
She’d never been so worked up. So turned on.
She was a bundle of raw nerve endings waiting to burst apart on his command. When he took her clit between his teeth and delicately nibbled on the tender flesh, her knees buckled. Zeke held her up with his hands locked around her ass.
“I can’t. Zeke, I can’t...it’s too much...”
She felt every stroke a thousand fold, becoming hyper-aware of every lick and flick.
“Zeke!”
“What do you need, Grace? You need to come?” His filthy, dirty mouth drove her crazy. She loved how vocal he was.
“Uh-huh.” She couldn’t form complete sentences. Her brain had short circuited somewhere around the time he bit her clit.
“Beg me for it,” he rasped.
“Please, please, Zeke. I need to come. Please let me come.”
As he increased the pressure and the speed of his tongue, focusing directly on her clit, she screamed. The orgasm crashed into her like a tsunami. Her muscles locked. Her back arched and she dug her fingers so deep into his scalp, she was sure she’d drawn blood.
Her body shook. Her pussy rippled as wave after wave of pleasure shot through her, releasing all the built up tension.
She came apart in his arms. It felt so good, she didn’t want to put herself back together. She wanted to ride the high that was Zeke Knight forever.
Fuck yeah.
He felt like a fucking king as Grace came. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. She flew apart, gave herself up to him with an abandon that made his cock harden to the point of pain. He almost blew his load as she screamed and quaked in his arms, soaking his chin.
He continued lapping at her as the aftershocks rocked her. He growled as he swallowed her sweet nectar. Her pussy really did taste as sweet as it looked.
Locking his hands around her ass, he gently pulled her down, arranged her legs around his waist. When his jean covered cock came into contact with the heat of her pussy, he winced. He had to get inside her. Now. Before he god damn made a fool of himself.
She curled into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. She let out a contented sigh. Her vulnerability and trust in this moment made his chest ache.
Fuck.
He settled them so he could lean back against the bed and cradle her while she came down from the orgasm, stroking her hair and soothing her. He’d done this to her—tired her out, made her come so hard she’d gone into some kind of sub space.
Forget feeling like a king, he was a fucking God. She made him feel like that. Only her.
What was is about Grace that made his dick ache and his chest hurt? Fucked if he knew. He thought getting a taste of her would get the craving out of his head and his body.
He’d been so wrong.
Tasting her, bringing her to orgasm, only made him want to do it again.
She was so fucking responsive, giving him everything and more. Right now he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of it. Of her.
She stirred, stroked his neck and looked up at him, her eyes, lazy and sated. His chest puffed with pride. Man, did he want to keep that look on her face all the damn time. He felt like a caveman. Wanted her covered in his come, marked with his scent. Wanted to own her.
Jesus, where did that come from?
“Well...” she said, her voice throaty and sexy which only made his dick twitch again.
Her eye widened as though remembering she’d been the only one to orgasm. She rolled her hips. As her pussy brushed his cock, he clenched his jaw. He wanted to pounce on her, shove his cock inside her wet pussy and sate himself. But he needed to give her time. She needed to recover from the orgasm. He wanted her fully cognitive when he fucked her.
Grace had other ideas. Her hips started a slow, steady roll. With each move, his cock hardened. He dug his fingers into her hips as a warning, but the pain only spurred the little minx on.
“You didn’t come,” she whispered.
She leaned down, nibbled his jaw. Her tits flattened on his chest and he could feel her pebbled nipples poking through his t-shirt.
God damn.
“You need to come, Zeke. Let me take care of you. I want you to come for me,” she continued in that husky tone that drove him fucking crazy.
Christ, how had he ever thought this woman was prissy? There was nothing repressed about her as she reached between them and ran a palm over his cock.
His eyes rolled back and his cock leaked pre-come, grateful for the brief touch. “Oh, yeah, that feel good.�
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She put her hands on his face, making him look at her. “I can make you feel even better. Let me touch you. I have to touch you,” she said, desperately.
He nodded. How could he refuse?
She scooted down and he widened his legs so she could sit on her knees between them. A coy smile lifted the corners of her swollen lips. He couldn’t wait to get inside her mouth. He knew it would be like paradise. He wondered if she’d ever sucked cock, if she enjoyed it. On her BDSM registration form, she’d put she enjoyed oral worship, but how true was that? He was about to find out.
She flipped the button on his jeans and slowly, so fucking slowly, drew down the zipper.
A pounding on the door almost made him jump out of his skin. Grace started and yelped at the intrusion.
“Boss man!”
WTF?
He touched Grace’s cheek, offering her some reassurance. She didn’t need it. The frown suggested she was about to go nuclear on the person interrupting her fun. He resisted the urge to laugh. Was too pissed off to laugh.
“Unless the fucking world is on fire, fuck the hell off.”
“I’ve just been in contact with our guy.” It was Jay. If Jay was up here, something must be going down. “We need to go. Now.”
The world was on fire. They’d been trying to get a meeting with Chang, the head of the Chinese gang, to talk about their severance of business. It had taken him weeks of wading through violence to get to the boss. Looked like tonight was the night.
“I’m coming. Gimme a sec.” He leaned his head back and sighed. His dominance of Grace would have to wait.
Chapter Six
Grace usually enjoyed the repetitive motion of filling shelves with books. Each paper tome provided the reader with a gateway into another world. They could travel to thousands of different places, experience many adventures. It was one of the many things she loved about reading.
Today, however, she couldn’t focus. Her attention was scattered. Every time she picked up a romance novel with a half-naked hunk on the cover, she thought of Zeke. Of his hands in her hair. His lips on hers. The way he rolled her nipples, bringing her close to that edge between pleasure and pain. The feral look in his eyes as he licked her.
“God dammit.” She closed one of the boxes and stalked towards the coffee machine.
Maybe a hit of scalding caffeine would wash the taste of him from her tongue.
From the other side of the store, her sister laughed. “Someone seems a little frustrated this morning.”
Grace hit some switches on the fancy coffee machine that had just been installed. Although the engineer gave her a demo, it still had a hefty instruction manual. One she would swear was ten inches thick and needed an advanced degree to understand.
She frowned, punching another few buttons in hopes of getting the futuristic piece of technology started. “Don’t start, Kadence.” She wasn’t in the mood to be teased.
Last night’s encounter left her hanging and frustrated. She’d never known a man like Zeke Knight. He was pure fire and she knew at the end of the dalliance, she’d end up getting burned. Yet deep down, she welcomed his fire. It called to something inside her she’d kept hidden. Denied for many years. He stirred her passions in a way no other man had.
When the coffee finished brewing, Grace removed the mug and took a sip. The rich, bitter liquid scaled the roof of her mouth. It didn’t wash away the taste of Zeke Knight.
Hell.
Kadence’s phone chirped. Grace turned and watched a sly smile creep over her sister’s face.
“Anything interesting?” She asked, already suspecting the answer. There was only one thing that could make her sister that happy.
“Nothing much. Rafe asking if I wanna go hang at the tattoo store.”
Grace’s stomach flip-flopped. She understood all men weren’t like Kadence’s abusive ex. Although she wanted her sister to have some fun, she still felt extremely possessive and cautious. They didn’t really know the Knights. Despite Zeke’s promise, she couldn’t help but be a little concerned.
When her sister flashed her a pleading glance, she couldn’t resist. Rounding the counter, she threw an arm around Kadence and hugged her tight. “How about we both go take a look?”
“Thanks, sis.” Kadence’s beaming smile cemented her decision.
They gathered their jackets and Grace locked up. On the short walk to the end of Main Street a few people stopped to say hi. Small town living felt good. People were friendly, kept an eye out for each other.
As they stopped in front of the tattoo store, Grace noted the elegance design of the sign. Smokin’ Guns Ink was written in a fancy script. Intricate handguns intertwined with barbed wire and classic tattoo roses around the lettering. Roses seemed a little too girly for the Knights store, but the black, blood red and grey colors made it anything but. It was a serious tattoo store for people serious about their ink, not the drunken escapades of bachelor parties and college kids.
Kadence pushed open the door and they stepped inside. The heavy beat of Outkast pulsed through the speakers. Grace heard the whirring of a tattoo gun underneath the music. Framed pictures of previous customers proudly showing off their tats adorned the bare brick walls. It had an industrial feel—exposed pipe work and lots of metal. Exactly like the clubhouse. It was understated. Classy.
Rafe stood behind the small, metal counter staring at a Macbook. He looked up and grinned. “Hello, ladies. Welcome to Smokin’ Guns Ink.”
Kadence sashayed over to the counter, a noticeable sway in her hips. “Hey, nice place you guys have here.”
As Grace watched Kadence flirt with Rafe, she envied her easy way with men. Her sister had always been comfortable around men since high school. She’d been the popular girl. The one everyone wanted to date. After Kadence’s recent experience with the asshole ex, she was just thankful her sister hadn’t been put off men.
Deciding to quit stressing over her sister’s love life, she moved her gaze across various hand drawn sketches. They were samples with various prices. She saw a few different styles and wondered who the artists were. Rafe maybe. Probably Gabe too. He seemed more like the artistic type.
Did Zeke draw? Was he in the back with the tattoo gun marking skin? Had he penned any of the beautiful creations? Probably not. He didn’t strike her as creative.
An erotic image of him tugging on her nipples with his teeth flashed into her head. Her cheeks burned. He’d sure been creative enough last night.
“How you doing, Grace?”
Gabe’s voice rumbled in her ear, startling her. She noted the buzz of the gun had stopped.
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he motioned to the wall of images. “See anything you like?”
His ice blue eyes danced with amusement, as if he knew she’d been thinking about Zeke. How was it possible these men knew what she was thinking all the damn time? Did they have some magic mojo where women were concerned?
Maybe it’s just written all your lust-drunk face.
Grace scowled at the voice in her head. Choosing not to engage with her inner bitch, she focused on the sketches. A bad ass looking snowy owl caught her eye. She adored owls. They were regal, wise and ruthless. The black and white drawing had lots of shading and detail. She could image it sitting on her shoulder blade. A symbol of her new start.
She tapped the drawing. “This one.”
He seized her up and down, then looked back at the owl. “Good choice. It’d suit you. Keep it black and white. Classy, but with a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude.”
To hide her embarrassment at the compliment she asked, “It’s pretty amazing. Did you draw it?”
From somewhere behind her, a deep voice cut in. “No, it’s one of mine.”
Grace’s body zinged to life. Every nerve ending sparked and readied itself. Her head snapped in Zeke’s direction. When she met his gaze, heat pulsed between her thighs. She’d never been so completely aware of a man before. He was an addiction her
body craved. Last night’s sexual encounter played on a loop in her head and her knees turned to jelly.
Damn him.
He looked as sexy as always, with a white, v-neck t-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and a pair of black denim jeans molded to his muscular legs. The man wore casual like most men wear tuxedos. When he snapped off a pair of black latex gloves and threw them in the trash can, she almost whimpered. In three long strides, he stood next to her and she resisted the urge to lean into him and sigh. He smelt so damned good.
She swallowed. “Nice piece. Didn’t think this would be your kind of thing.”
He quirked a brow. “My kind of thing?”
“Creative. Artistic. I see you more as a practical, numbers type of guy.”
“Not creative?”
She shook her head. “Not like this.”
A dark, possessive look passed over his face. He leaned down, brushing her ear with her lips. “I think I got pretty creative with your tits last night.”
She inhaled sharply. Her nipples hardened.
He continued, “Do you need another demo on how creative I can be?”
Grace moistened her dry lips. Did she?
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
Her hormones were in overdrive. She couldn’t think with him standing so close, smelling like coffee and citrus, his masculine heat seeping into her pores.
Just when she was about to combust from sexual tension, Kadence interrupted. “You should totally get that tattoo. It’s amazing. Would suit you. You love owls.”
Grace took a breath, tried to steady her blood pressure, which thundered through her veins. “Maybe I will.”
“First tattoo?” Gabe asked as he casually slipped an arm around Kadence’s shoulder.
Nodding, Grace stepped away from Zeke despite her traitorous body demanding she attach herself to his arm. “Yeah. I’ve always been too much of a coward to get one. Also never really seen anything I like. I mean, it’s going to be on your skin forever, it’s a big responsibility. What if you pick an artist and they mess it up?”
She shuddered thinking of all the nasty tattoos she’d seen on people coming through the ER.
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