This is what has been missing—these kisses. This…I’ve never felt whole kissing another man. I’ve never felt protected and safe. But Zeke forces me to feel all of it.
His lips are evil liars, but incredibly sexy and talented liars.
I’ll call him out on the lying later. Right now, I just want to kiss him. Enjoy my last moments of pleasure with this man.
He spins us around, until my back is against the wall, and breaks the kiss far too soon.
I pout.
He chuckles, giving me a wink, before he dips his head down and finds my nipple.
“Ah, fuck,” I moan, holding onto his head to keep him from pulling away again.
I thought his tongue was talented in my mouth, but it’s reaching new levels on my nipple. The sensation radiates all over my body. I’m throbbing between my legs, needing so much more than he’s currently offering. This can’t stop. Not until…
Until I let him fuck me?
Because that can’t happen. I can’t reward him like that for all the shitty things he’s done. Even if it’s a reward for myself too.
Once again, Zeke stops.
This time I do too.
What the hell are we doing?
We can’t keep doing this.
We hate each other.
We want to destroy each other.
And kiss each other, lick each other, fuck each other…
Zeke rests his forehead against mine as we breathe into each other’s mouths. I see and feel the pained expression on his face. It’s the same one I wear.
I’m so confused.
He is too.
What are we doing?
No, better question—what is he doing? If he wants me, then he has the power to take me. To force me. To take what he wants from me. He paid for it. So what’s stopping him from taking it?
I don’t want him to take anything. Being raped by a man I kinda, sorta find attractive is still a horrible experience. It’s still rape. It will still top my list of worst nights.
I reach down between our legs, and find his dick, squeezing hard.
He howls and shoves me hard against the wall, forcing me to release my grip.
I’ve awakened the beast with my touch. I can see it in his eyes. I wanted to know who he really is—this is it.
This man standing before me, with long, wild hair. An untamed beard. Tattoos covering as many scars as muscle. A ripped body he used to torture, rape, and kill. Life-taking hands. And a brain filled with dirty thoughts about me since the second he bought me.
That’s who he is. And he’s one push away from acting on it. From proving me right—that he’s a monster.
Zeke sees into my mind. He reads my thoughts. And he takes back control.
“What did Julian do to you to make you so scared of him? What did he do to you before?”
I shake my head. “Playing this game doesn’t make you any less of a monster. You’ve wanted to rape me ever since you bought me; just because you’ve earned the right to commit a sin doesn’t make you any less of a sinner.”
“Answer the question, and I won’t get to sin.”
I grit my teeth together. This is the moment. The moment where the truth mixes with sin. This is the moment where I find out the truth of who Zeke really is.
How do I want to learn the truth about him? By speaking my own truth? Or letting him sin?
I’m not ready to share my secret, not until he’s spilled his first.
But if I choose sin, will I forever feel guilty for him raping me? Because I gave him the power to do it?
No, I won’t. If I choose sin, it doesn’t give him permission to violate me in that way. Even if I choose sin, I will still fight back. I won’t let him get that far.
“Sin,” I answer.
His eyes gloss over with that single word. He needed, and feared, that answer.
Your move, big guy. Your move. Let’s see what you got. Because I’m about to castrate you.
My legs are still wrapped around his waist. I’m still gripping his shoulders, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given him permission to fuck me.
Maybe if he asked first, but he won’t.
He makes a decision in an instant; then he’s carrying me through the foyer. I assume he’s going to take me to the bedroom, but he doesn’t. He takes me to the living room.
Huh? Not a bed kind of guy? Or does he not want to bother having to change the sheets after the ensuing bloody battle?
He finds the large ottoman in the center of the room, kneels in front of it, and sets my ass down on the edge.
“Lean back,” he says.
I frown. If he thinks I’m just going to lay back and take it, he’s crazy.
“I said, lay back,” his voice deeper, more powerful than before.
I fall back automatically.
Shit, now what?
I slip my hand slowly in the back pocket of my jeans and grab the knife I hid there. I hold it to my back as he unbuttons my jeans and slowly slides them over my hips, then down my body.
I purse my lips and breathe out slowly. I’ve got this—he won’t touch me without getting castrated.
Next, he grabs my lacy panties. He takes his time undressing me.
And then I’m naked.
I close my eyes, trying to calm myself. He’s still not undressed, so I have time before he fucks me. He’s a slow, gentle giant. He won’t speed up just to rape you. He’s waited this long. He’s a patient man; he’ll wait until he’s good and ready.
I grip the knife tighter, preparing myself.
I feel his hands on my inner thighs; he gently spreads me apart.
This is it—the moment I need to attack before he does something he can’t take back.
“Siren?” he asks.
My eyes open and look at him.
He smirks at me, but his eyes say something else. They ask for permission.
Permission for what?
His eyes dip down, and I realize what he’s about to do. His jeans are still on. His hands have my legs spread, and his face is positioned just over my pussy, ready to devour me.
He wants to fuck me with this mouth, not rape me. That’s his sin—giving me pleasure.
I blink several times, completely confused.
How could this be? How is he this guy, not the monster? Or is he only this guy when he’s around me? And he’s a monster around everyone else?
Zeke hovers over me, waiting for some sign of permission. Technically he never asked with words, but we’ve never needed words to communicate.
Yes—no.
How do I decide? My body is begging me to let him kiss me there. I already know it will be the most explosive orgasm of my life. But is that giving in? Being weak? I shouldn’t—
But I feel my hips move up on their own accord.
Zeke grins broader before he licks his lips.
Wait, I didn’t answ—
His tongue licks over my slit, and I realize my hips made a much better choice than my brain would. One stroke of his tongue and I’m his. I don’t care what he’s done. I don’t care how evil his heart is. I don’t care how many people he’s killed or how many lives he’s stolen.
Feeling his tongue between my legs, over my most sensitive area while he kneels in front of me, expecting nothing from me in return, is everything I’ve ever wanted in a man.
And god is it sexy to see him giving instead of taking from me.
I lean up on my elbows so I can watch him lick me. At first, he’s slow, so achingly slow. But it only intensifies everything. I can feel every lick, flick, and breath coming from his mouth.