Rogan (Men of Siege Book 1)

by Bex Dane

  "My boy. My boy." She gazed up at him.

  "Ma," Rogan said softly and kissed the top of her head.

  Ma? My breath stuck in my throat. His mother?

  Rogan patted her back, and she turned to face the group of people behind her.

  The crowd lowered their heads and bowed.

  Bowed? Oh my gosh, what in the world was going on?

  Rogan tipped his chin, and the crowd straightened.

  We reached the top of the steps, and Rogan shook hands with the man. A gorgeous woman with sable hair and boobs rivaling Yolanda's broke out of the group and hugged Rogan. He didn't raise his arm to hug her back.

  "Hello, Rogan," she said with a giggle and a wink.

  "Chantal."

  She tilted her head and blinked at me, waiting for Rogan to introduce us.

  Rogan's palm warmed my lower back, and his fingers pressed me gently forward. "Tessa Harlow, Prime Minister Bastien Foor." He waved his hand toward the handsome man.

  "Bonjour, Tessa." He spoke with a sophisticated French accent.

  "Hello."

  "And his wife, Guinevere Foor, my mother."

  "Umm…"

  "Such a pleasure to meet you, Tessa. Call me Gwen." His mother wrapped delicate arms around me, and a floral aroma hit my nose.

  I glared at Rogan over Gwen's shoulder. Surprising me with his mother!

  "We have tea ready for you on the veranda." Gwen grasped my elbow, guiding me into the mansion.

  The crowd dispersed, and I shot Rogan another evil look for not introducing me to Chantal. He smirked and kept walking with his shoulders back and a confident swagger.

  We passed through floor-to-ceiling glass doors onto a tiered patio overlooking a sparkling lap pool and vibrant green tennis courts. Chantal took a seat on the other side of Rogan at an elaborate table set for lunch for five. A servant poured tea into tiny china cups.

  "Welcome to our island. How was your flight?" Rogan's mother asked me.

  "Amazing! We flew over pods of dolphins. And the reefs are extraordinary. My eyes were glued to the window."

  "So how'd you two meet?" Chantal wagged her finger from Rogan to me.

  "My cousin Falcon in—"

  Rogan squeezed my knee to shut me up. "Morning Glory still here?" he asked Bastien.

  "Yes." His voice turned up in question, and he glanced from Chantal to Rogan.

  "We're gonna take her out. Now."

  "Oh. We can talk more over dinner," Gwen responded.

  "We'll be out past sunset."

  "We can wait for you." Gwen's voice took on the stern tone of a mother, and her eyes turned cold, despite the smile she held on her lips.

  A muscle in Rogan's neck twitched. "Alright."

  "You sure you wouldn't like a gelding too?" Bastien asked Rogan.

  "No. One horse will do."

  A horse? Morning Glory was a horse?

  We all stood, and Chantal's eyes followed Rogan's hand as he placed it between my shoulder blades.

  "We've prepared two rooms for you," Prime Minister Foor said.

  "Of course, Bastien," Rogan answered.

  Gwen winked at Rogan, but Rogan kept his eyes on Bastien.

  "We'll see you at dinner then, dear. Have fun. The weather is ideal for a ride." Gwen took Bastien's hand.

  A ride? We're going to ride a horse named Morning Glory?

  Rogan applied a slight pressure on my back, guiding me through the glass doors to the front entrance again.

  ***

  "C'mon, girl." Rogan clicked his tongue, and the spectacular Appaloosa took a steady step from her stall, following Rogan's hold on her lead with no resistance.

  "She's so graceful." I ran my palm over her withers. "She's a hand taller than Traveler. Her spots are darker, but she reminds me so much of her."

  Rogan tossed a bareback saddle pad over Morning Glory's back and cinched the buckles around her chest. Man, Rogan's tight butt looked delicious in his board shorts.

  "Don't I need my boots?"

  Rogan's eyes traversed my body in my pink sundress and black sandals. "You got your bathing suit under there?"

  "Yes?"

  "That's how we ride here. Take off your shoes."

  We removed our shoes and left them on a bench outside the stable.

  Morning Glory paced next to Rogan as we walked over the lawn to a frond-covered trailhead behind the barn. Dew made the rocky trail slick but Morning Glory didn't hesitate.

  "She's comfortable with you."

  "It's been about four years, but I think she remembers me."

  She swayed her snout toward him and gave his ear a nuzzle with a low, soft nicker.

  "She remembers you and she loves you."

  Rogan chuckled and wrapped an arm under her neck. "Good girl."

  ***

  The jungle-like trail opened up to a stretch of powdery sand and turquoise water.

  "The blue!"

  "Your first time on a beach?"

  "Yes! The ocean is… mystical. The way it glows in the sun. And the sand, the purest white."

  We stood next to Morning Glory and let the salty wind hit our faces. "Some impressive colors here in St. Amalie," he said.

  "The world you know is the complete opposite of mine."

  "I'm sharing it with you now."

  "Hey, that reminds me." I slapped his bicep. "You surprised me, you jerk."

  "Easier if you meet her first. Guinevere Foor is… hard to describe."

  "What is she? The first lady?"

  "Her official title is spouse of the prime minister." He scuffed his feet in the sand.

  "Wow. How'd she meet Bastien?"

  "She danced with him at a charity banquet."

  "He just asked her to dance?"

  "His father set it up. He's the former prime minister."

  "Does your mom like to dance?"

  "Yes. She's known for it. The people here love to watch her dance. It eases their worries."

  "And did she dance with you when you were a boy?"

  "Yes."

  "Did it ease your worries?"

  "Probably." His gaze scanned the horizon. "She'd bust out moves in the kitchen, in a store, wherever she was. She'd forget her cares and sway her body. It embarrassed me most of the time but also made me laugh."

  I smiled up at him and squinted in the sun. "How old were you when she married him?"

  "Fourteen. We came to live here."

  "What a romantic story. I'm happy she found love after losing your dad. She does love him, right?"

  He huffed. "Someday, you will not question if a woman loves her husband. Most people marry for love."

  "Oh, right. Sorry."

  "Not your fault. Yes, she loves him. The press has deemed their relationship a fairy tale love affair."

  "And is he faithful to her?"

  He took my face in his hands. "Another inappropriate question, but yes, I think so. She's happy here."

  "The press doesn't follow you?"

  "No. They're more interested in her. There were a few pictures in the beginning, but they've lost track of me."

  "And who is Chantal?"

  He kissed my forehead and patted Morning Glory's back. "Hop on up."

  "Uh." She didn't have stirrups and she was tall. "How?"

  "Jump up."

  "Jump? Okay…"

  I crouched and popped up on her back in an ungraceful belly plop. As I slid back down to the ground, Rogan's hand smacked my butt, and his hearty laugh rang out.

  "Hey!" My feet hit the ground and, still laughing, he bent and interlocked his hands for me to use as stirrups.

  "Just teasing. Up ya go."

  He boosted me up, and the thrill of being on a horse after so long raced through me—especially a horse as impressive as this one. I patted her neck. "Good girl. How're you going to mount her?"

  Rogan had me hold the reins. "Like this." He grasped a chunk of mane in one hand, swung one of his long legs back and kicked, hooking himself on the ho
rse behind me. Morning Glory took a few steps to adjust to his weight. He settled with a grunt and slid a hand around my waist.

  Panic shot up my spine, but I tamped it down.

  "Yah!" He squeezed his legs around the horse's flanks, and she trotted down the tideline. The rub of Rogan's stomach against my back eclipsed my vision. The stunning coast, the white sand, the crystal blue water—everything evaporated.

  "God, your ass feels good bouncin' on my cock." Rogan's sexy voice hummed in my ear.

  My breath clogged my throat. This was a vacation destination and not a place to panic. But the air wouldn't come into my lungs.

  I stiffened and arched my back. "I can't."

  "Whoa." He halted Morning Glory.

  I bent my shoulders to dismount, but he held me in place. "Hey. It's alright. Stay right there." He hopped down then wrapped his hands around my torso. He lifted me off like I weighed nothing. "What's wrong?" He pressed his palm to my cheek as he bent to stare into my eyes. "You said you rode."

  "I do. Just… by myself." I stroked my fingers over the coarse hair on Morning Glory's flank.

  His eyes narrowed to slits. "You mean no one behind you?"

  "Mmm-hmm."

  "I see."

  He did his mounting trick again and slung himself up on her. He reached out for my hand.

  "I don't…"

  "Swing a leg over."

  He grabbed my wrist, hoisting me on behind him this time. "Hold on."

  I wrapped my arms around his middle and intertwined my fingers near the tie of his shorts. The strong muscles of his back pressed against my stomach and chest.

  "Better?" he asked, tilting his chin over his shoulder.

  "Yes. Thank you." The balmy air reappeared. Oxygen filled my lungs again, and the sea salt filtered into my nose.

  "Yah!" he called, and my hair flew back in the wind as Morning Glory galloped in the sand again. Rogan steered her into the waves, and she obeyed eagerly. The warm water lapped at our ankles, and Morning Glory whinnied like she loved it just as much as we did. He glanced at me over his shoulder and reached one hand back to rub my leg. "This better than dancin' in a box?"

  "Yes!"

  He squeezed my thigh. "Ready to go deeper?"

  "Deeper?" The waves reached Morning Glory's withers, and my legs sloshed in the water.

  "Can she go deeper?"

  He didn't answer, just took Morning Glory into the waves till only her snout and neck hovered above water.

  "Stand up," Rogan said as he climbed to standing on her back.

  "What?"

  "Stand up." He pulled my hands up till we were both balancing on Morning Glory's back.

  "She's so strong!"

  Rogan curled his arms around me and tugged me closer, pressing his rock hard body against mine through our thin wet clothes. In his eyes, joy shimmered like the sunlight sparkling off the water we stood in.

  He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard and wild. He tasted like salt and sun and man. I clasped his shoulders and kissed him back. Rogan's mouth consumed me. The controlled kisses from last night had turned ravenous, and our tongues warred for dominance. We wobbled, and our lips broke apart as we crashed into the water.

  We both laughed as his hands on my behind forced me to wrap my legs around him.

  "I can't swim." I clutched his neck like I was stuck up high on a pole.

  "I got you." He carried me to the tideline. "Need you on the shore," he said with his lips pressed to mine.

  Morning Glory followed us to a secluded cove at the end of the beach where Rogan lowered me to my butt on the sand. I braced my hands behind me and stared up at his dripping wet form towering over me. He yanked off his sodden tee with one quick movement behind his neck.

  Lord have mercy. Rogan's biceps doubled in size while he was away. His wet tattoos glinted, and his pecs pulsed like a ferocious warrior climbing from the sea at Normandy.

  "When I ate you at Siege, was I your first?" His voice scratched, and his eyes simmered like they had the night we danced at Siege. I covered my chest with my arms, defending myself from the onslaught that might ensue if Rogan lost his temper again.

  "My first how?"

  His brow furrowed, and he dropped to the sand with his knees on either side of me. He breathed heavy and spoke with a growl. "Don't play with me."

  "Why're you so angry?"

  "I'm not angry."

  "You sound furious, like you did at Siege, but… Oh my goodness. Could it be?"

  "What?"

  "You're fighting the urge to kiss me. Holding back your desire makes your voice scratch and your shoulders tense. It looks a lot like anger, but it's not. Am I right?"

  His eyelids lowered and he took a deep breath. "You're looking at a man who hasn't touched a woman in six months. That woman being you."

  "And before that?"

  "Four years," he said low and dark.

  "Four years? What about Tori?"

  His eyes snapped open, and his head popped up. "I didn't have sex with her."

  "I've always thought you were angry with me for tempting you."

  "No. Pissed at myself for wanting you and knowing I shouldn't take you."

  "Oh."

  His gaze skated down my body. "As you can imagine, I've been riding the edge of a blade for a long time."

  "I can imagine. How did you manage going so long without it?"

  "Mind over matter."

  "Did you uh... relieve the pressure alone?"

  "No. Not until you showed up. Then I couldn't stop. I had to or my balls would detonate. So, I'd like to know, was I the first man to put his mouth on you?"

  "Yes, but… This is hard to talk about. It wasn't my first…"

  "First time you came?"

  "Right."

  "You came with Zook before?" He inched closer, and his breath tickled my cheek.

  "Why are you asking me this?"

  "I gotta know how far I can push you."

  "I see. Well. A few times Zook… gave me orgasms with his hand. I gave myself…"

  "Go on."

  I twirled my fingers on the sand.

  "You gave yourself orgasms?"

  I nodded.

  "With your hand or you have a toy?"

  "A toy? What kind of toy?"

  "A vibrator."

  "Oh, hmm." I licked my lips. The word vibrator coming from Rogan's plump lips in his deep raspy voice sounded like a delicious dessert, not a sex toy. "No. I didn't have a toy. My hand."

  "Show me."

  "No."

  "Show me." He grabbed the string to my bikini behind my neck. With a sharp tug, the wet triangles loosened under my sundress. His eyes drank in my breasts as he yanked my wet top down. He licked his lips and stared at my nipples. "Show me."

  He wrenched my dress and my bikini bottoms over my hips and all the way off.

  I gasped. "I'm naked."

  He searched the sand next to us, grabbed two medium-sized shells, and covered my nipples. "Now you're not. Show me how you touch yourself."

  He watched my hand move toward my center. The sand scratched as my fingers skimmed my clit. I rubbed a small circle, and his eyes darkened. "Spread your legs."

  I hesitated, but did as he said because his commanding voice left no room for objection.

  "So sexy. My mermaid."

  Rogan's eyes glassed over, and he ran his tongue over his teeth under his lip. He needed to move closer and stop watching from afar. "Touch me."

  "Keeping my distance."

  "No more distance."

  He looked into my eyes, and his heated gaze seared into me.

  "No more resistance. It's time." I held my hand out for him. He placed his fingers in mine, and I set them down on my clit. I worked my hand out so his fingers rested on me. "Touch me."

  He bit his lip and moved his hand a fraction, but it was enough to send a jolt of desire through me. "More."

  The seashells dropped off when I grabbed my breasts and lifted them. My
fingers pinched my nipples.

  Rogan growled like I'd pushed him too far. Good. I wanted him to give in again. I could handle it this time.

  He shoved two fingers deep inside me and my back arched, the sand rubbing my scalp. "Yes!"

  His fingers worked inside me, and his thumb massaged my clit as he kissed his way up my belly. Like the head of a sparkler on the Fourth of July, his lips lit trails on my skin. My whole body shook when he stopped to suck one nipple, then the other.

  Finally his mouth landed on mine, and I inhaled him. We fell into a sensual rhythm, my hips and mouth responding to each movement of his hands and tongue. I could get lost in him for hours.

  My orgasm hovered on the horizon, no holding it back. His thumb drilled relentless circles on my clit. He knew exactly how to touch a woman to make her come hard. I groaned into his mouth and clenched on his fingers. A kaleidoscope of colors danced behind my eyelids as I pulsed on his hand.

  He pulled his lips from mine. Our breaths were loud and heavy as we gazed at each other. Before he could pull away, I grabbed his erection through his shorts. I cupped my palm around his hardness and pressed down. "Let me."

  He untied his board shorts and popped out his straining cock. Mercy. It was thicker than I remembered, but I'd only caught a glimpse of it before. In the sunlight, I could see all the glorious details. The head flushed a dark purple, and a vein throbbed in his shaft.

  "I want to suck it."

  "You don't have to. If you're not ready…"

  "I'm ready." I sat up and dove for his cock, but he pushed my shoulders back.

  "Lie down."

  "I swear. I won't be scared this time."

  "Lie down."

  I lay on my back and watched as he repositioned over me.

  "Open."

  I dropped my jaw and he fed his cock between my lips. "Suck it, Sunshine. As hard as you can."

  I closed around the tip and sucked him in bit by bit. He moaned and his head fell back. "Goddamn."

  He pumped into my mouth slow at first, then picked up the pace. "Your lush lips wrapped around my cock. Feels so good to fuck your mouth. Fucking heaven."

  I couldn't answer so I just kept sucking.

  "Stop now, if you don't want me to come in your mouth."

  I put my hands on his butt and pushed him in deeper. His tip bumped the back of my throat and I gagged. He slowed down and pulled out a little, waiting for me to adjust. I squeezed his thighs to let him know I was fine. Keep going.