Rogue (Phoenix Rising)

by Brynley Blake

  “Give me one more, baby.” He’s pounding into me, and although I feel that familiar overwhelming tightening in my core, the thought of another climax is unimaginable.

  I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  “Don’t tell me you can’t do anything.” The reprimand is sharp and punctuated by a particularly sharp thrust of his cock inside of me that makes me gasp and has my pussy already beginning to spasm. “You’re mine, and I assure you, you can do anything.”

  He continues to fuck me hard and fast, daring me to contradict him. Once again, the pressure builds, and I’m suddenly teetering on the edge of the unknown darkness only Noah can take me to.

  “Come for me, baby.”

  With a keening wail, the dam breaks again, and this time I’m going to drown in the flood of sensation that pulls me under, past lucidity and into some dark, sacred place I’ve never been before. I’m dimly aware of Noah’s war cry as he comes with great shuddering thrusts, but I’m at his mercy, finally conquered and broken by pleasure.

  He carries me below deck and gently cleans between my legs with a warm washcloth before tucking me in under the covers. He climbs into bed next to me and pulls me to him, holding me in the dark, seeding my dreams with images of him as I fall asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Noah

  I wake up early, and no matter how hard I try, or how seductive McKenzie’s warm and naked body feels curled against me, I can’t go back to sleep. Last night was incredible. Nothing had prepared me for the sight of her sweet pussy and ass cheeks clenching again and again as the orgasms came one after another when I finally took her from behind.

  But this morning, something’s bothering me—niggling away in some corner of my mind—although I have no fucking clue what it is. All I know is that it has something to do with McKenzie. Obviously, the fact that someone is after her—and possibly trying to do her harm—is a concern, and one I need to figure out. Soon. But this is something else. Something more…personal.

  I finally get up, leaving her in bed with her blonde hair spread over the pillow, and go up on deck. It’s a beautiful morning, and dawn is creeping across the sky, setting fire to the ocean as the two kiss at the horizon. It will take us about six more hours to get to Malaysia, where we’re planning to dive. I figure since I can’t sleep, we might as well get on our way so we can arrive earlier.

  I pull up anchor, unfurl the sails, set our course on the GPS, and turn on autopilot, desperately wishing I could go for a punishing run to either figure out what the hell is bothering me or forget about it. Instead I turn on the satellite phone and check in. Although I told McKenzie there’s no wifi on the boat, I do have a pricey little satellite phone that I use for email, messages, and the occasional phone call, should I need to make one. Which I most definitely do. If El Gato has someone else after McKenzie, I want to know about it.

  I punch in the numbers, waiting as I’m patched through the web of lines before the world’s most-wanted drug kingpin comes on the line.

  “Have you found the guns?” he snaps.

  “Not yet, but I’ve seen the bucket list—the list of clues Prescott left behind. The girl—his sister—showed it to me. I just need a little more time to chase down each item on the list.” I don’t dare say her name out loud in case the memories of being buried inside of her creep into my voice and betray my feelings for her.

  “Ditch the girl if you have the list,” he says dismissively. “You can go faster without her.”

  “She has the list,” I correct. “And the knowledge of her brother and his activities that I need to determine what’s a clue and what isn’t. She’s indispensable; she can save me valuable time. The girl stays with me. Unharmed.”

  “Lighten up, gringo.” He chuckles. “I don’t care what you do with la güera. If you want her to warm your bed while she leads you to my guns, it is, how do you Americans say, no skin off my nose.”

  “Then you haven’t sent someone after her?” I press.

  “Not since Costa Rica, no.”

  “She said there were men with guns when she was in Costa Rica. You sent them?” I keep my voice even, with no hint of the fury I feel. If he discovers how I feel about McKenzie, she becomes a bargaining chip, and I can’t afford that.

  “Si.” It’s dismissive, and I know full well his trademark shoulder shrug that goes with it. A man like El Gato doesn’t have to justify his actions to anyone. “At the time, I thought the simplest solution was to get the list from her and let you decipher it. But my men failed, and she disappeared. Another attempt with force would have drawn attention I don’t need. Besides, you seem to be enjoying her, and a warm female body is better than a cold one.” He laughs at his crude joke. “Where are you?”

  “En route to Malaysia. The girl and I are diving in a specific area detailed on the list. It’s the last thing Prescott added. Hopefully there’ll be something worthwhile to learn there.”

  “Keep me posted. I want the guns. Without them, we don’t have a deal.” He’s of course referring to handing me El Jefe, the man I’ve waited three long years to see dead.

  “Stay away from the girl. There’s also no deal if she gets hurt. No girl, no guns.”

  It’s a bold and possibly foolhardy thing to do, but I want him to stay away from McKenzie, even if it means one day I’ll pay the price for it. I hold the phone long after the line has gone dead, my mind running through the options. Although talking to El Gato has cleared up what happened in Costa Rica, it doesn’t explain who was on the boat digging through her bag. Or the incident at the caves.

  “Good morning.”

  I look up at the sound of McKenzie’s soft voice, still raspy with sleep, and my cock stirs to life.

  “Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”

  She walks over to me, and I notice all she’s wearing is the It’s More Fun in the Philippines shirt. And I mean all. Her nipples are indecently erect beneath the thin fabric, and I get a tantalizing glimpse of her pert, round little ass as she steps over the rigging to come and stand next to me. I instinctively caress her bare ass, reveling as always in the feel of her soft skin and enticing curves.

  “I had a dream.”

  “A bad one?” I want to banish every bad thing that has happened in her life that could haunt her dreams.

  She sits in my lap, straddling me so we’re face-to-face. “Very bad.” She’s got an impish gleam in her eyes.

  My eyes narrow. “What kind of bad are we talking about?”

  “The kind of bad that gets me spanked and fucked.”

  She shifts in my lap, kneeling so she can unbutton my shorts and pull my cock out. I groan, capturing her wrists and holding them behind her as I bend to take her nipple between my teeth through the thin fabric of her shirt, tugging gently with my teeth. Now it’s her turn to groan.

  “Let me touch you.” Her soft request catches me off guard.

  “What do you mean?” I slip my hand under her shirt to cup her breast.

  “I like being powerless to you, and I love the way you restrain and control me and make my body respond to you. But sometimes I want to touch you. Unencumbered.”

  It’s what I wanted for her last night—to be unencumbered. Free to feel and experience everything without worries or distractions. And yet, what she wants to experience is me. I release her wrists, humbled by her.

  “You can touch me anytime, sweetheart. I love the feel of your hands on me.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize they’re categorically untrue. I do love the way she touches me, but I’ve used the excuse of exploring kink to keep her from getting too close. Every time we’ve fucked, I’ve made damn sure I’ve kept all the power and control, most of the time actually restraining her physically, as if by preventing her from touching my body, I can keep her from touching the deeper part of me that I keep off-limits—the part that I closed off to everyone after Sarah and Maggie died. It’s been at my pace, and I’ve given and taken what I
wanted. But somehow, she’s managed to break through the bonds I’ve tried to impose on her. She’s already way past touching me. I’ve lost control. She owns me, whether she realizes it or not.

  I release her hands, and she touches me greedily—stroking my chest as her eyes darken with desire. She threads her fingers through my hair as she rubs my jaw, smiling as I move my head so the rough stubble of my morning beard scrapes against her palm.

  Then she leans over to kiss me, and the floodgates open. I pour myself into the kiss, everything I’ve held back from her cresting like a wave before breaking, engulfing her as I give her everything, opening myself wholly to her. I bruise her lips with mine as my tongue invades her mouth—licking, sucking, and devouring her.

  She pulls back, slightly breathless, a faint smile on her lips.

  “What?”

  “You can’t help taking control even when you’re trying to give it to me.”

  “You want me, you get all of me. This is how I am.” It’s a simple admission.

  “I know. I love that about you. Now kiss me again.”

  That she knows who I am, and what I demand, and not only wants it but craves it, makes me want her even more. I kiss her again, hard, and as we kiss, she lowers herself oh-so-slowly onto my stiff cock. Her pussy sheathes me like a scabbard custom-made for its sword, perfect and snug.

  “Not worried about anyone seeing us this time?” I tease.

  “If I was, I certainly wouldn’t tell you.” She grins as she leans forward to nip at my jaw. “But no. I have a T-shirt on. If anyone sees us, they’ll just think I’m sitting on your lap.”

  It’s adorable how she thinks she’s in charge. I pull her T-shirt off in one swift motion. “Sorry, sweetheart. I want your breasts. Unencumbered.”

  She shivers deliciously as I skim my fingertips lightly across her spine, which in turn makes her wiggle on my cock. Liking how it makes her move on me, I smile and do it again. She laughs, squirming against me as I hold her firmly impaled on me, and the low, sweet sound of her pleasure is intoxicating. With my hands on her hips, I deliberately flick one tight little nipple with the tip of my tongue. She groans, her eyes closing.

  I tease and torment her nipples, one and then the other, grazing my teeth across each stiff peak before sucking it, loving the way it makes her squirm in my lap. I bite down lightly. She moans as her head falls back. Deciding to test her limits a little, I bite harder, eliciting a sharp cry of pain as her head snaps forward. Her eyes are wide with a hint of trepidation as she struggles to pull away.

  “Shhhh.” I move to the other nipple, taking it between my teeth. She starts to fight me as the pressure increases, and without letting go, I give her a throaty “nuh-uh”, reminding her I’m in charge. She fights to remain still, her face etched with a combination of determination mixed with apprehension. But it’s her trust in me that slays me, and how she responds to what I demand of her. The way she gives herself over to me is fucking intoxicating. And if the wetness coating my dick is any indication, it’s a turn on to her, too.

  Gripping her hips, I lift her up, and then slam her back down on my cock, making her gasp. But she loves it. She wraps her hands around my neck and rides me as I urge her on—deeper, harder, faster—until her stomach grows taut and I can feel her pussy start to quiver. My own muscles are tensing with the impending release, and I fuck her harder, meeting her need to be a willing and active participant with my own craving to possess her—body, heart, and soul. We’re well matched, and we drive each other higher and higher until we’re both trembling on the edge.

  “Come with me.” Instantly, her sex clenches around me like a vise as her body convulses in response to the command. Her sweet pussy rippling over my hard shaft sends me over the edge, and we come together, holding on to each other for dear life as the storm of ecstasy consumes us.

  Afterward, she snuggles into my chest with my cock still buried in her. I wrap my arms around her, savoring the feel of her next to my heart. She idly strokes my chest, and I wait for her to say what’s on her mind.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she finally says.

  “Of course.”

  “Why don’t you want kids? You were great with Paige. I couldn’t help but notice how natural you seemed with her.”

  I stiffen slightly.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” she says softly. “It’s none of my business. We barely know each other, really. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  I hate the hurt I hear in her voice. I tilt her chin up with my forefinger, forcing her to look at me. “It’s not that. I would say we know each other intimately in all the ways that matter.” I sigh, letting her go. “It’s just not a pretty story. I want to protect you and make you smile and make you come so many times you pass out. You know, basically ruin you for any other man,” I admit. “I don’t want to drag my shit into your life.”

  “You don’t have the market cornered on shit in your life. I already have plenty of my own. Sharing part of yours with me, like I’ve shared part of mine with you, doesn’t ruin my life. Life is a package deal. The shit comes with smiles and orgasms. I want all of you, Noah.”

  She’s trusted me with everything—her grief and her tears, her life, her dreams, her brother’s list, her body, giving herself over to me completely and without reservation. The least I can do is give her this.

  I press her head back down so her cheek is resting against my chest. It will be easier to tell without those expressive blue eyes betraying every emotion she feels for me. Even though it’s been almost four years now, I still don’t want pity. Especially not hers. I’m long past wanting sympathy; I just want revenge.

  “I’d always wanted to be a Navy SEAL, ever since I was a kid. I went to college because my dad made me, but I signed up for the navy the day I graduated from Penn State. The weekend before I left for BUD/S training, I saw my girlfriend, Sarah, for the last time before I shipped off to basic training. We’d dated since I met her right before our senior year in college, and I loved her, but I knew deep down she didn’t deserve the life I’d have to offer her as a SEAL—here today and gone tomorrow, sometimes too quickly to even have a chance to say good-bye, unable to talk to her about work, missing her birthday, or simply holding her when she’d had a bad day. And she wasn’t the kind of girl who could hold her own very well, so I broke up with her.

  “She cried, but she said she understood. And she asked me to make love to her one last time before I left.” If there is one single moment in time that defined the rest of my life, that was it. “So I did. And then I kissed her good-bye and stepped into my future without a backward glance. After I completed BUD/S training, I went back home for a few weeks before I got my first assignment, and Sarah told me she was pregnant.”

  I remember the day like it was yesterday. Her big eyes scared, her voice wavering as she broke the news to me. “Sarah was fragile, and not very independent or resilient. Back then, it was what attracted me to her. There’s one thing that makes dominant men tick—and I was dominant, even though I didn’t know what to call it then—and that’s that we want to be needed as much as submissives need to be wanted. And Sarah definitely needed me. She aroused my protective instincts.” I trail my finger along McKenzie’s jawline. “Now I know what’s truly intoxicating is a woman who’s badass enough to hold her own but chooses to rely on me and put her trust in me.” I feel the curve of her cheek as she smiles.

  “At any rate, not acknowledging the baby or taking responsibility for my actions was unthinkable. Sarah and I got married at the justice of the peace office two weeks before I shipped out on my first assignment as a Navy SEAL. I served a couple of tours in Afghanistan, and my little girl, Maggie, was born while I was gone. The first time I laid eyes on her, she was three months old. Sarah handed her to me, and she immediately curled her little hand around my pinkie finger, studied me for a solid five minutes with her serious gray-blue eyes, and then smiled. I swear, I lost my heart that day. No one told me being a fa
ther would be like that—that I’d spend that moment on with my heart living in someone else’s body.

  “I didn’t get to see her nearly enough, but I loved every damn minute I had with her. I’d typically be gone for three to four months at a time, and then I’d come home for six weeks and play dad. I’d take Maggie and Sarah to the beach, and I’d read Maggie books and give her piggyback rides and watch her play. Then I’d have to say good-bye and go back to what felt more and more like my real life with my team.

  “After a year or so in the Middle East, my unit was sent to Mexico to wage the war on drugs. Mexican law prohibits foreign military and law enforcement agencies from operating on Mexican soil, so even though our mission was to take down El Jefe, the head of the Nuevo Leon cartel, which was the most powerful drug cartel at the time, we couldn’t plan a strike to actually go in and take him out like the team that was assigned to take out Bin Laden. The ‘official’ U.S. position was, and still is, to provide technical, logistical, and training support to the Mexican government.

  “So that’s what we did. We trained the Mexican military and created a force to take down Francisco Dominguez, also known as El Jefe. But it was a losing battle. The drug cartels rule with fear and own everyone—including most of the local police and government officials—and they’d often pay the vigilantes we were training to come work for them, or they’d kill them or their family members if they didn’t.

  “It was pretty clear if someone was going to take out El Jefe, it was going to have to be a special forces team, and we’d never be able to admit to doing it. A couple of years into my tour there, my commanding officer told me that because of my skill as a sharpshooter, I’d been chosen as the guy who was going to take down Dominguez. We had intel on where he was hiding, and it was planned down to the letter. SEALs leave nothing to chance.

  “I’ll never know how Dominguez found out, but somehow he did. Just a testament to the drug cartel’s reach, I guess. He was waiting for us, and by the time it was over, I’d been taken prisoner. I was blindfolded and left for a good day or two in some hellhole up in the mountains. When they finally came to get me, I figured my time was up. They took me to Dominguez. He was shorter than I expected, and oddly polite. But the thing I remember the most about him was his eyes. They were completely dead. He said he had Sarah and Maggie.”