Handcuffed by Her Hero (5 page)

Another nudge
in. Rayna tensed as her tissues stretched to accommodate him. He hated
admitting that turned him on but shit, there was no ignoring it. He loved this.
Rejoiced in pushing her. Reveled in taking her body to limits it hadn’t known
before. Celebrated that his cock would mark her in corners nobody else had. For
these few precious minutes, she belonged completely to him. Her world would
become only him.

“Damn!” She
exclaimed it as he slid deeper. Her vagina clenched tighter around his head as
the barbell in his frenulum said hello to the sensitive skin above her ass. He
pulled out slowly but plunged back in with more force. He repeated the strokes
over and over, sinking his shaft more deeply each time.

Beneath him,
Rayna went from exquisite to exhilarating. Her head arched back, her lips fell
open, her thighs bunched in beautiful tension as she tried to meet him thrust
for thrust. As he claimed her sweet cunt with his penis, he roamed the rest of
her with his mouth. He licked the salty sheen of her forehead. Bit into the
straining column of her neck. Sucked each breast so hard her areolas were
imprinted with his teeth marks.

He didn’t want
to stop there. He couldn’t. He needed to ensure he was stamped on her body and
in her memory. Deeper. He needed to get deeper.

“Spread your
legs wider,” he ordered on a growl, “and tell your eye sockets to get ready,
bird.”

Rayna wet her
lips. “M-my eye sockets? Wh-why?”

He didn’t answer
her. He showed her. He opened the firewalls, letting the blaze in his blood
take over his ass, his balls, his dick. No more gradual inches. No more
tentative prods. He slammed every inch of his hot length into her wet tunnel,
grunting in pleasure as his head rammed her cervix. Trojan stallion, meet the
gates of paradise.

Rayna’s eyes
burst wide in shock. “Oh my God!” she cried at the ceiling.

Well,
that
certainly registered down the hall on the big brother protective posse radar
screen. At the moment, Zeke didn’t give a shit about Trevor. Everything was
Rayna. Only Rayna.

He shifted his
hold to both sides of her waist, openly adoring the hourglass curve. Hell, she
was magnificent. He almost hated to summon the breath for his next words.

“The
Stratocaster’s fired up, honey.”

Rayna gave him a
shaky laugh. “No shit.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

His chest
knotted. He lowered his fingers into her hips. “I don’t want to stop.”

“If you do, I’ll
never speak to you again.”

“If I don’t,
that’s still a possibility.”

“Shut up, Zeke.”

At first, he
retorted to that by dropping his face to hers, twisting her lips in a brutal
kiss. He barely let her free before growling, “I’m going to rip you open,
Rayna.”

The woman’s
little grin wasn’t the reaction he expected. It caused him to pull back another
inch. Though he’d seen her smile so many times, this expression was something
brand new. A challenge yet a surrender. Utterly soft yet completely fearless. Sweet
God. He felt like a miner who’d discovered a new gemstone. Did he bellow in
victory about it or savor the secret in wicked silence?

She didn’t give
him time to decide. “Do it,” she pleaded. “Fuck me. Please!”

He gladly granted
her wish. He’d just referenced a stallion, now he acted like one. He drove into
her with bestial ferocity, not giving an inch of clemency, not granting a moment
of rest. He directed her body too, gripping her hard, pumping her pussy onto
him, making her ride him as hard as he enjoyed her. High, aching mewls started
vibrating from her throat. She locked her hands around his shoulders and
scratched the fuck out of his back. It was worth every painful inch. His senses
spun. The room went away. The
world
went away. There was nothing now but
the utopia of Rayna’s kisses. The silken skin of her body. The stinging bliss
if her nails in his skin.

The heaven of knowing
he was about to come inside her.

The euphoria of feeling
the tremors in her skin and knowing she was just as close.

He lifted his
head again. Waiting for him were the gorgeous green oceans of her gaze. Zeke
let himself get lost in them this time. Just this once, he’d know what it was
like to drown.

“Give it to me.”
He dug his grasp deeper, grinding her faster onto him as he speared her with
deep, long, hard passion. “Give it all to me, honey. Every drop of it is mine
tonight.”

“Zeke!” her
hands stopped where they were, though her nails turned into ten human power
drills. “Zeke. Ohhhhh!”

He caught the
last of her long cry with his lips, using the motion to tamp his volume as much
as hers. Waking up Trevor’s bro-dar was one thing. Blasting the guy’s brain to
pieces from listening to his sister’s orgasm? Though Z often had an asshole
side, it didn’t extend that far.

He roared into
her mouth as his climax screamed through his cock. His sex was flooded in white
heat. His senses swam, his logic fled. He was seared alive, consumed by the
heaven of her sex around his, her breaths twined with his, their bodies fused
into one blistering, flawless flame.

When he trusted
himself not to bellow the walls down anymore, he dragged his mouth away. His
breath still left him on heavy pants. Hers, too. His body shook every ten
seconds, racked by crazy aftershocks from what he’d put it through. Hers, too.

He lifted a hand
to Rayna’s face, wondering about the strange sensation that overtook him when
she lifted a tiny smile at him. He was breathing but couldn’t get enough air.
Everything but her seemed muted, unfocused.

Wasn’t this a
lot like drowning?

Shit.

He forced
himself to roll to his back. Pillows and sheets caressed his skin, joyously
soft, smelling like sun. After he trashed the condom, he pulled Rayna over,
tangling his legs with hers, pressing her breasts to his chest. His
battle-bruised body almost didn’t know what to do for a second. But only a
second. It picked up on its new orders pretty fast. His muscles uncoiled. His
breathing relaxed. His fingers roamed the entrancing landscape of Rayna’s back.
She trailed light fingers through his chest hair.

It was one of
the most perfect moments of his life.

She stirred a
little before whispering, “Thank you.”

“Mmmmm.” His
voice sounded distant. Satiated. “Thank
you,
little bird.”

Her fingers
trailed down. They traced the knife wound scar below his right rib, his memento
of the sting they’d pulled on King three months ago. “I mean thank you for all
of it, Zeke.”

He brought his
hand up and stroked her fingers, somehow feeling he needed to comfort her. Why
had that gratitude carried such melancholy? Hell, no. It wasn’t time for shit
like that yet. The night still owed them a few more minutes of perfection.

“That’s what I
meant, too.” He brushed her hair off her temple and kissed it.

She burrowed a
little closer. “Please stay.”

He had no idea
what to reply. It was raining harder outside. It was soft, warm, fragrant and
very naked in here.
A paradise you shouldn’t be getting used to, asshole.
This was one time. One very good fuck. Now get the hell out before you drown in
her for good.

He took a deep
breath, scrounging his brain for the usual niceties.
Early day tomorrow.
Yeah, that was always a good one.

“Of course.”

Fuck.

One night.
Friends with bennies. Nothing more. You know the drill. The pants come on after
the condom gets trashed
.
What the hell are you doing? What the hell are
you thinking?

He gave his
brain a mental flip-off. She wasn’t asking him to stay and
think,
right?
She wanted him to stay. No more, no less. She’d begged with that sweet, husky
need that always ate up his blood and made him long to find fucking Atlantis
for her, if need be. But she never wanted anything more than him.

And in this
perfect, warm moment of now, all he wanted was her.

His brain
finally relented. As soon as Rayna’s breathing evened, he felt his
consciousness slipping, too. With the sound of the rain echoing in his head, he
plunged into the deepest sleep he’d had in months.

*
* * * *

It was still
raining. But he wasn’t warm anymore. He let a slow smile curl his lips. His
little bird would help with that challenge. He reached through the sheets for
her. She had to be around here somewhere…

He realized the
bed was empty when he heard her talking in the other room.

Revision. Rayna
wasn’t talking. She was arguing. And trying to be quiet about it, likely due to
concern about waking him, which was hilarious. Since his normal “alarm clock” was
usually Hawk or T-Bomb sticking their socks—or worse—in his face, this was a
welcome change.

Maybe not
that
welcome.

Trevor was still
here. He heard the guy biting out his name like a piece of lousy fish. Didn’t
the fucker have a deposition to be at or some sap to carve up in court? It was
ten in the morning. Trevor always had people to see and places to—

Wait.

“Huh?” he
gasped, gaping at the clock again. Sure enough, the digits blared a one, a pair
of zeroes then a two. Holy hell. Half the day was gone.

He dug through
the linens for his pants and underwear before ramming his legs back into both.
As he got into his boots, he visually searched the room for his T-shirt.

The
whap
of a slammed cabinet whipped his stare back toward at the door.

“You know what,
Trevor? Maybe I should go get myself kidnapped in Asia again. Those pirates
gave me more leash than you do.”

The shirt would
wait. He was out the door and down the hall in the space of a half-dozen
strides.

The scene in the
kitchen was about what he expected. The bright lighting and rustic French décor,
down to a plate of homemade croissants and hand-iced cupcakes, did little to
eclipse the dismal atmosphere between Rayna and her oldest brother. The guy
looked like hell. His hair was more a haystack rolled in rust and his eyes were
rimmed in exhaustion. Zeke actually felt a twinge of empathy for Trev.

It vanished as
soon as the asshat opened his mouth.

“Well, if it
isn’t Sleeping fucking Beauty.”

He decided to
ignore the comment, crossing to Rayna instead. She looked like an elf immersed
in Santa’s smoking jacket, wrapped in a crimson sweater with long collars that
was six sizes too big for her, with grey leggings underneath. She’d likely
pilfered the covering off one of her brothers. One of
his
pullovers
would look a hell of a lot better.

He ripped that
fantasy up before it could get started. Focusing instead on the real-life
sprite in front of him, he pressed an affectionate buss to her forehead. “Good
morning.”

“Hi.” She tilted
her head back, clearly expecting a more intimate greeting. So much for keeping
his thoughts or his bloodstream in the realm of chaste. Still, he held back.
Kissing her like that couldn’t happen anymore. It didn’t matter how tight his
gut twisted as he watched her disappointed wince—or that damn wobble in her
chin. “I—I’m so sorry, Z. We woke you, didn’t we?”

He was grateful
for the chance to lighten the air with a chuckle. “I haven’t slept past five
for at least a year, honey. Believe me, it was time for Sleeping fucking Beauty
to get up.”

Maybe the
self-deprecation would inject a little helium to Trev’s happiness balloon now.

“‘Honey,’ huh?
What, you’re Mike stinkin’ Brady for her now?”

Or maybe not.

Zeke forced down
a deep breath as he fished a coffee mug out of the cupboard. He set it on the
counter with a
thunk
that wasn’t exactly the stuff of guy bonding
commercials. As he filled it, he tossed a calculated glance over his shoulder, one
brow raised.

“Sleeping
Beauty. Mike Brady. You’re giving me quite a range there, pal.”

Trevor huffed. “On
the contrary, Hayes. I don’t think I’ve given you enough credit. ‘Half-dressed
sister fucker’ hasn’t made the list yet.”

“Trevor!” Rayna
yelled. “For God sake!”

Z dragged a hand
through his hair. Shockingly, the comment didn’t nearly torque him to the
depths that it did Rayna. He didn’t always understand the depths of love
between siblings, but that didn’t stop him from wanting them. Envying them.

“Ray-bird,” he
said, “catch an iceberg for a second. Your brother only cares about you.” He
turned and cocked a more direct stare at Trev. “Though if he has half the brain
I think, he’ll watch the landmines he’s jumping while he does so.”

A nerve jumped
in Trevor’s jaw. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I came out here
half-dressed because I heard Rayna talking about a year of captivity as a
preferred choice to your asshole behavior.”