Zeke's Rule

by Jenika Snow

  “I’m tired of being scared and frightened.” She bit her lip and stared down at her lap. She’d bitten her nails down to the quick. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her waist and fought the tears that were threatening to fall. “I’m tired.”

  Zeke stood. “Come with me.”

  She placed her hand within his and was surprised when, in the next second, he led her to a large, beautiful kitchen.

  “Sit.”

  Alessandria did as he asked and took a seat. She watched as he grabbed out several items from the fridge and placed them on the counter. He didn’t speak, and she watched as he kept working. Her mouth watered, and much to her embarrassment, her stomach growled. He left the counter, and grabbed something, tossing it toward her. Grabbing it, she saw that he’d thrown her an apple.

  “Start eating.”

  It was easy to obey him, and in doing so, she found this warmth filling her. It was strange, misplaced even, but it still felt good to have commands that weren’t ugly. Taking a bite, she savored the sweet-sour taste that exploded on her tongue.

  “Gerald is never going to get to you. You swear your loyalty to me, and I will make sure the little bastard rots in hell. Give yourself a couple of months; if you want to die, I will put a bullet through your skull myself and end your life.”

  Talk about a charmer.

  Chapter Seven

  STRIKER FOUND HIMSELF coming to Zeke’s club Dominion every week for the last few months. It was the only way he found the release he needed. He tried to stay away from his darker desires, tried to sleep with the sweet butts at the Soldiers compound, but even the D/s action he got from them couldn’t give him the freedom and release he found while at Dominion.

  He sat in the cab of his SUV, stared over at the Soldiers clubhouse, and could hear the music coming from the inside. The party was going on strong, the booze was flowing freely, and the Patches were fucking their hearts out with their club whores. But even if the club was his home, and he knew he didn’t have to hide who he really was from his fellow club members, Striker had never felt like the sweet butts could handle the type of sex he truly wanted, the pain he wanted to give them.

  They might say they’d give him whatever he wanted, be the little bitches the Patches needed in the bedroom, and even one claimed she’d be his Painslut, but the fact was they truly didn’t know how to handle the type of sex, the type of experience he wanted to have with a woman. The may never understand unless they truly wanted it, too.

  He knew Steel had needed a true submissive in his bed, and the man had found it in his old lady. But what Striker wanted was total domination, total submission from the woman. He wanted to control his sub, overpower them, and give her the pain that would lead to both of their ultimate pleasures.

  And in all honesty, he didn’t know if he’d find that perfect sub, that one woman that would be able to surrender every aspect of herself to him, but in the meantime, going to Dominion at least gave him the control he needed—over women who understood how to let him take it.

  A part of him had held back, a lot, with the club whores. He didn’t want to scare them, or hurt them, because they didn’t truly understand what he wanted to have with them, if only for that one night.

  As he left club property and headed downtown to Zeke’s club, he felt the rush of adrenaline move through him, felt the need take hold of him. It was like a drug, an intoxication, and he was addicted. The club and Zeke might not see eye-to-eye, and Striker might not particularly like Zeke because he was a bastard, but the fact remained Zeke didn’t try to control what Striker did at the club. Striker went there, found a willing sub that knew how to handle the pain he wanted to administer. But despite finding women that loved the submission as much as he fucking loved the domination, Striker still felt like something was missing. Maybe he’d always feel this way.

  Striker knew one thing. No way in hell was he going to be able to find a woman, an old lady that he could do this with. Not only would he always be mindful that he might hurt her, and therefore could never fully get into the scene, but what woman wanted to be strapped to a man like him? What woman wanted to have a man that wanted to whip her, cut her, make her bleed right as she came? Hell, even if he didn’t have those things working against him, Striker wasn’t a good man. He’d done bad things, violent things, and had taken lives. He’d reveled in killing, because in the end, it had been what kept his club, and the Patches within it, safe. But unless a woman could handle all those obstacles thrown her way, Striker knew he’d probably never have a meaningful relationship.

  Do you want a fucking meaningful relationship?

  Damn, he didn’t know what he wanted anymore, but he did know he didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his miserable fucking life.

  AFTER SHE’D EATEN, Zeke had shown her to her room. She was still in awe over the fact a man that had killed two men right in front of her, wanted her in his massive, expensive home. Zeke might have told her that he wanted her here to keep her safe, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that being in his home, trapped in the elegance, security, and sheer dominance that surrounded her, frightened her as well. It was also scary given the fact Zeke knew her true intentions behind why she’d been brought to him begin with.

  She had never planned to go as far as finding anything out about him to pass on to that bastard Gerald, because what she’d been focused on was escaping and finally being free, if only for a short time. But her plans had been derailed.

  Alessandria wasn’t under the illusion she was anything but a prisoner in Zeke’s home. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that although he scared her, she also felt safe with him, far safer than she ever had in her life. It was a strange combination: fear and security, comfort and anxiety.

  She still didn’t know what Zeke truly wanted from her, and why he was really doing this, but she’d realized that she was better off with him than she was with Gerald, and honestly, even by herself.

  Looking around the room he’d placed her in, it was elegant, but bare in the decorations department. Alessandria went over to the window and pushed the drapes aside. The view was of the back of the property, and all she could see was the thick forest. She’d eaten what Zeke had prepared for her, the silence deafening between them. And then he’d shown her to this room, told her to take a long bath, and she’d done just that.

  She thought about Zeke, about the power that came from him, the fact he was so tall, so muscular. He could easily crush someone with his bare hands, or at least that’s the perception she had of him. And the dark hair and eyes made him seem like he was the very devil himself, waiting to take her down to hell and rule over her.

  Would that be so bad as long as he treated you the way he was treating you right now?

  He killed for her, fed her, clothed her, and was keeping her safe in his home. It was strange and surreal, but she didn’t want to run away, she didn’t want to escape, at least not right now. Right now, right here she actually felt like things could be okay… like she would be okay.

  So here Alessandria stood, in nothing but the thick, plush robe that had been hanging on the back of the door of the en-suite bathroom, staring out the window and thinking about what she planned on doing. She could either try to figure out how to escape, or realize that this wasn’t so bad. Of course, she didn’t know how bad it might get, but right now, Zeke had been nothing but kind to her, and God, it had been so long since someone had been kind to her.

  Chapter Eight

  ZEKE LAY IN his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He thought about Alessandria next door, and then he thought about all the women he’d used over the years. There hadn’t been a single woman in his life he could honestly say that he’d loved, apart from his daughter and his soon to be grandchild.

  Daniella’s mother had been a whore and bitch to the core, and he’d made the mistake of not wrapping his shit up when he’d fucked her, but he didn’t regret it, not when it gave him Dani.

  D
aniella’s mother had fucked anything for a price, and it was only with the threat of a violent death that she kept her legs closed while she was pregnant with his kid. Zeke hadn’t touched her after the moment that Daniella was out of her body. He’d put up with her because he did feel that kids needed their parents, even if one of them was a whore. His life had sucked when he was younger, but he’d witnessed some good in people, not all good, but some.

  Sitting up in bed, Zeke let out a sigh. He was getting way too old for some of the bullshit in his life. In his early forties already, he’d done a lot of shit in his life in order to get this far, in order to have his empire. He was becoming soft; he had to be because of what he was doing with Alessandria. Climbing out of bed, he made his way toward the window overlooking his expansive garden. He paid three men to continue the upkeep of the garden. Zeke had killed men in this house, men that had worked for him and betrayed him, and it was one of the reasons he’d sent Daniella away to school. She’d been protected with several bodyguards that he’d hired, bodyguards that were still near her even though she was with Shakes.

  His men guarded the grounds, and they knew if they fucked with him or tried to kill him, he had many ways of dealing with that shit.

  He couldn’t sleep, so he left his room, and made his way down to the main kitchen. Flicking on the light, he opened up the fridge, and even with his back to the doorway, he felt her enter the room.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Intuition.” Zeke turned around to see Alessandria standing in the doorway. She wore one of the nightgowns he’d had stocked in her room, and the long garment swamped her entire body. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked, even with the bruises on her face. Zeke saw past the discolored marks. Alessandria was here because of a bully who hid behind women.

  “It’s a little stupid to rely on senses alone.”

  “They’ve gotten me to where I am today. Didn’t your senses ever tell you that Gerald was a bad guy?” He pointed to a chair for her to sit down.

  “Not at first, but I guess eventually, yes. I guess my senses are not that great.”

  “What are they telling you about me?”

  “To fear you, but I’m also…numb.” She smiled and glanced down at her hands. “I guess I lost caring about a lot of things.”

  Zeke was going to find Gerald, and he was going to tear him apart, piece by little piece.

  “You could have tried running?”

  Alessandria laughed humorlessly. “I did, and it got me black and blue and bloodied on the ground. After that, I knew he’d kill me if I left. But where would I run to if I tried leaving you? I watched you kill two men you didn’t know without even hesitating. I’m sure killing a whore isn’t going to take much effort. I’ve got no money, I don’t have a clue where I am, running won’t help me.”

  Tilting his head to the side, Zeke dropped his gaze down to her plump lips. They would look so damn good wrapped around his cock, and the fact he was even thinking about this shit right now made him feel like an asshole. But even if he knew he shouldn’t think theses things, he was a bastard and couldn’t help the thought.

  He knew she’d take him deep to the back of her throat. He’d force the tip down just a little farther so that she was almost gagging on it, and hold her hair to show her who was boss, and then pull out.

  When he had sex, Zeke was the one in charge, no one else. The longer he stared at Alessandria’s mouth, the more he became hypnotized by those plump lips. But he pulled out of his erotic fantasies. Zeke had many kinks in life, but raping unwilling and beaten women wasn’t one of them.

  He grabbed a pan from under the counter, grabbed a bottle of milk, and poured some into it.

  “You’re right; I wouldn’t have any problem making you suffer. I’ve done worse for a lot less.” He looked at her. “But I can honestly say you’re different, and I don’t really know why I feel that way.

  “You said I’m safe with you?”

  “You are.”

  “If I go out on those streets alone, it’s only a matter of time before Gerald finds me. He has a way of hunting people down and making them pay.” She pointed to her face. “This is minor compared to some of the shit he’s put me through.”

  “Tell me what he’s done.” Zeke wouldn’t have a problem finding Gerald; he’d already put out feelers for the fucker. Apparently, the little prick had gone into hiding. It wouldn’t be hard to find him, with a little bit of time. Men like Gerald made a habit of doing the same thing over and over again, making the same mistakes. Zeke had witnessed it many times with other men and had taken out competition to make his point known. Women, even whores who sold their body, wanted and needed protection. He provided that, and in return, they made a damn good living and were safe.

  “He likes to use his fists mostly, but he delivers blows to the body with brass knuckles, I think they’re called. He’s cracked a few of my ribs using them.” She circled her wrist, and he knew what was coming next. “He likes to break bones for the sheer pleasure of hearing them crack.”

  Zeke placed the pan on the stove, but he didn’t light the burner. Rounding the counter, he watched her tense. She did have a sense of safety about her, watching him, and reacting, thinking something was coming at her. Stepping close to her, he grabbed her chin, and tilted her head back. “You go to any hospitals after any of his beatings?”

  “Yeah, once. The first time. If you find a lot of women in the area with broken bones, beat up bad, and the excuse is she fell down a flight of stairs, chances are it’s Gerald. He, erm, he also likes to make sure we know our place; and he sets his men on us. They take turns hurting and raping his girls.”

  Zeke was going to set his men on Gerald, and make sure this bastard could take what he dished out. Gerald was a pussy, and he was going to make sure he had a very long, very painful end to his miserable life.

  He traced his fingers over her bruises and the cut on her lip. “You’re not crying about what happened to you?”

  “I’m numb.”

  “But you’re still fighting.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and he watched as she blinked them away. Alessandria had gone numb to fight what was happening to her. He saw it, and he respected it. Growing up, he’d gone numb to the pain, too. It’s how he could smash his fist against a wall, and not really feel it, not care about the pain.

  “I stopped caring about what happened to me a long time ago.”

  He believed that. Running his thumb across her lip, he was mindful of her wound. He gently pulled it down, and when he gently let it go, he watched it bounce back into place. His dick twitched, and he couldn’t help himself, no matter how sick he found himself right now. Stroking his finger down her neck, he rested it at her pulse. Her heart was beating fast, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw they were dilated. There was something different about this woman. She was calling to him, and yet he couldn’t put his finger on why.

  “I want a little taste.”

  She didn’t pull away as he lowered his head. Dropping his lips to hers, he brushed them across hers, and she moaned. Her hands moved up and gripped his shoulders. Zeke waited for her to push him away, but she didn’t. Staring into her eyes, he saw she was shocked, and he deepened the kiss a little. He wanted to smash his lips against hers, and ravish her mouth until she was moaning at him in pleasure. Zeke stopped himself because of her cut lip.

  “Do you want a hot chocolate?” he asked, pulling away.

  For a split second, he was sure he saw disappointment flash in her eyes but he couldn’t be sure. He needed to find out what made Alessandria tick before she drove him crazy.

  His cock was thick, hard, and begging to be inside her.

  Chapter Nine

  ALESSANDRIA DIDN’T KNOW what had happened. Well, she did, and although she’d liked Zeke’s mouth on hers, she’d breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t pushed anything. The truth was she saw the sadist in Zeke,
knew he was the type of man that liked pleasure with a bite of pain. It was clear in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her.

  Or maybe she was so desperate to find that happiness in her life, to find someone that would give her what she wanted, but not hurt her or exploit her.

  All her life, she’d fought with the desire inside of her, the dark, twisted feelings of wanting the pain. At first, she hadn’t known what it meant, why she’d felt the way she did. Alessandria had hid those dark desires, and the one person she’d admitted them to, the one man she thought she could trust, and changed her life and thrust her into a living hell.

  Although it hadn’t even been with Zeke a full day, in his care, she already felt like she was living another life. She could look at him. Feel his desire for her, see it in his frighteningly handsome face, and she knew that he might be the man that could change everything.

  He would be the man that changed everything. He already had in so many ways.

  Here she was, in his mansion, lying on the bed, in the room, that he’d given her because he wanted to protect her, keep her close…be with her? Did she understand what was going on? No, and she didn’t know if she ever would.

  Zeke told her he wanted to protect her, to take Gerald down because he was a lowlife. Zeke was in the same degrading, vile business, but he wasn’t like Gerald or any of the other men she’d encountered during her travels through hell.

  Alessandria had told him she was numb, and she was, but she was also broken and she wasn’t sure if she could ever be fixed. But when Zeke had kissed her, there had been a moment of realization, of shock, that she’d enjoyed it, wanted more of it. But then her fear of the past had risen up, and she’d been thankful he’d stopped and not pursued more with her. Did she think Zeke would want something from her in return for the safety he was providing?

  Yes.