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And he was right, she had given him her heart.
“I didn’t give you my freedom,” she panted, trying to find some fragile threat of independence. Surely there was some lingering shred of independence inside her somewhere?
His head lifted as he gripped the sides of the shirt and tore it apart. Buttons were scattering as his lips stole hers in a kiss that she was certain fried any ability she could have had to speak, let alone think.
His tongue delved between her lips, tangled with hers, and
the taste of him went to her head with the same force as a narcotic. He was inside her, so much a part of her that she didn’t know how to fight him.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as she gave in to the kiss. A part of her knew he was right. Jonesy had a temper that she had always pampered and had to watch out for. He only really respected men willing to put up their fists.
It grated on her pride. But pride was a weak ideal when Zeke seemed to wrap around her. When he was kissing her as though he were drowning in her. Despite the split lip and the bruises she knew must be marring his body, still his lips slanted over hers as his broad hands cupped her rear and lifted her to him.
“Tell me you belong to me. ” He nipped her lips, then licked the heat of the rough caress away. “Now, Rogue. Tell me you’re mine. ”
She shook her head as his head lifted and he stared down at her with predatory intent.
“But you are. ” His lips slid to her ear. “Mine to hold, to protect. ”
But was she his to love? The thought whispered through her mind, then evaporated as he turned her, his hands smoothing up her arms and flattening her palms against the wall.
“Zeke. ”
“It’s okay, baby. ” Her hair was swept to the side, his lips tasting her neck, spreading heated kisses along the sensitive column as his hands cupped her breasts.
He palmed the sensitive mounds; his fingers rubbed over her nipples before he encased them in two fingers, working them gently. Waves of incredible pleasure began washing through her. Rogue tipped her head back against his chest, a moan parting her lips.
“You burn me alive,” he whispered against her ear as he moved one hand from her breasts.
She could feel him behind her, working his jeans loose, releasing the heavy length of his erection, and she whimpered in longing.
“I have a bed,” she panted, though the thought of moving at the moment wasn’t high on her list of priorities.
“Who needs a bed? Fuck, Rogue, I don’t think I can wait that long. ”
She felt his knees dip as his arm slid around her hips, lifting her and holding her in place as he pressed her legs apart with his foot.
“Damn, gotta love those high heels,” he groaned as she felt the head of his cock press against her, hot and iron hard.
Dizzying weakness flooded her, pleasure overcame any objections she could have even thought to have as she felt the slow, stretching impalement of her pussy. A strangled cry left her throat, heat flushed her, inside and out.
It was a damned good thing he was holding her, because she would have melted to the floor otherwise. Violent pleasure tore through her as his erection worked inside her.
Slow, torturously so as her slick juices flowed around him.
“I can’t stand it,” she panted. Because it was too good. Because there was something about this position, about having him behind her, controlling her responses, her movements, that made her feel more fragile, more feminine than ever before.
“Should I stop, Rogue?” He paused, buried to the hilt inside her now, throbbing and thick, filling her and stealing her senses with a pleasure she couldn’t fight. “Tell me to stop, Rogue, and I will. ”
Her fingers curled into fists against the wall as she felt perspiration gathering along her body. Her skirt was pushed to her hips, his shirt slid over her shoulders and hung at the bend of her arms. It was decadent, wicked. The position, her half-clothed state, and the feel of him inside her added to the sensations rioting through her.
How could she ever live without him now? How could she survive without the feel of him taking her, possessing her?
“Don’t stop. ” Her lashes drifted closed as she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. “Please, Zeke. Don’t stop. ”
He moved. A slow, gliding retreat, then a hard, fierce thrust that had her back arching and a strangling cry falling from her lips.
He gripped her hips with both hands now, holding her in place, holding her up as he began fucking her with hard, even strokes.
