The Vigilantes Collection

by Lake, Keri

  “I’m tired of always having to be in a state of constant control. Control of myself. What I say. My actions, for fear that what I do or say will result in punishment.” My words arrived fast, tumbling from my mouth before I had the chance to stop them. “I want to lose control.” I leaned forward, against the pressure at my neck that eventually fell away, and brushed my open mouth against his throat, trembling at the sensation of being so close to heaven I could almost touch it. “Help me. I want to lose myself with you, Nick.”

  Pulling back, I studied him, the carved-out perfect cheekbones, a chiseled jaw that ticced as he stared back, and the scruff that’d set my world on fire mere minutes ago. His pupils seemed dilated, eyes bigger, wider. Excited.

  Like a predator’s.

  Grabbing my left ankle, he lifted my leg, the awkward contortion forcing me to scoot back when he set my foot flat on the countertop. At his grip of my right ankle, I raised my other foot atop the counter. I sat completely spread before him, exposed, and when his gaze fell from mine, my stomach clenched. The wetness probably glistened like a goddamn disco ball in front of his eyes.

  “Touch yourself, Aubree.”

  His demeanor had changed from the kitchen. Before he’d seemed rushed, uncontrolled, hungry. He was suddenly calm, much more calculated in his movements.

  The rebel inside me wanted to lash out, tell him to fuck off, because no one told me what to do anymore. His command was different to Michael’s, though—his voice holding a fascination that lacked the sadistic undercurrent of unexpected pain.

  Touching myself in front of a man was nothing new, but a tickle in my stomach brought forth the realization that Nick made me nervous, like I didn’t want to disappoint him. He’d brought new sensations to the fore, and I desperately wanted more, was willing to become a slave to it, so I slid my finger over my swollen mound and confirmed what I already suspected as I teased the tiny knot there. Soaking wet.

  His eyes remained fixed on me, while I skimmed my fingers up and down my cleft, and he grabbed hold of his undeniably proud cock, stroking himself as he watched me. Fucking hell, the sight of him could make a woman do the unthinkable, like come on demand, with his dark, menacing tattoos, the angry shift of his jaw and the controlled glide of his hand along his shaft that had his biceps flexing with each pull. He wasn’t doing it to get himself off. It was probably written all over my face—I wanted him. I wanted that beautiful cock inside of me, and the man was teasing me with it.

  Well, two could play at that game.

  I closed my eyes, tilting my head back against the mirror, and plunging two fingers inside myself, I moaned. “You do things to me, Nick. Things I’ve never felt before.” A heavy basting of lust dripped from every word, and when I fondled my nipple, his grunt had me opening my eyes and brought a smile to my face.

  Tongue raking across his teeth, he cupped my jaw, looking down at me with intensity, so much intensity. His chest expanded and contracted, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath. His hand skated down my stomach, across my clit, and I jerked as his finger danced along my seam. He gripped my throat again with the other hand, not hard or violent, almost in reverence.

  At the nudge of my palm, I slid my fingers from between my thighs, tensing, as his curled around my wrist and lifted my hand to his face. His gaze flicked to my captured fingers then back to me, before he inserted them into his mouth, and goddamn, my pussy twitched, as he licked them clean.

  The moment with him felt incredibly erotic, intimate, as if we’d stripped ourselves out of skin and connected on a level I’d never reached with anyone before him.

  Even though his eyes appeared feral and capable of violence, I trusted him. I wanted him in all his dangerous potential. Craved the dark glint in his eyes that warned he could fuck me in more ways than one.

  He leaned forward, the skimming of his teeth along the shell of my ear sending a jolt of anticipation running through my body. “I need this, Aubree. Give this to me.” His deep voice tickled my ear, more commanding than before, but not in a way that put me on edge. Moving his hand to my nape, his kiss landed at the base of my throat.

  I wanted his dominance, craved his demands. I didn’t have the best track record with men, but something inside of me told me he was different. Just as much a killer as any I’d been with before, but different. Passionate. “Take me.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. Confusion? Fear?

  “Nick?” I stroked a hand down his cheek, and he blinked, pupils shrinking, revealing more of the blue.

  He yanked me to the edge of the sink, wrapped my legs around his hips, and slid inside me, jackhammering, violent, needy. He filled me completely, so deep, I had to lift my ass to keep him from plowing through me. A throaty, almost animalistic sound ripped from my chest as, like animals, we fucked. His fingers laced through my hair, alternating between squeezing and releasing. My breasts bounced with each hard slam into my body, not cruel or mean, but ravenous. Urgent, as if the world might come crashing in on us at any second, and all we had was right then.

  Without so much as a flinch of warning, he pulled out of me, and my body went cold, desperate to be filled again, neither of us having reached climax.

  Sliding his hands under my ass, he lifted me off the sink, carried me to the bed, and pushed inside of me once more. “Aubree.” His husky voice gushed like a dark, wicked chocolate inside my mind. “Can’t get enough of you. You’ve got my head so fucked up right now.”

  I loved that I made him that way. As he pounded into me, I felt unbreakable, fluid and relaxed. Beautiful, too. Like a blind man watching the sun rise for the first time, he never took his eyes off me. From the bliss of never wanting it to end, to the pain of needing climax, he seemed to read my expressions like an opened book, and shifted with them, keeping me on edge, keeping himself from release. His abrupt changes—the slow, easy glides, to spurts of railing into me so deep, he damn near touched my womb, the pull of my hair and gentle strokes along my face—told me chaos swirled inside his body. As if he yearned for something darker, but fought to rein it in. I’d seen it in the bathroom, a flicker of confusion before he took me hard and fast. The man was an enigma. A torn mind. One I yearned to lose myself in.

  “Please,” I begged, clawing at the edge of pure ecstasy, a steady vibration running through my muscles, so desperate for release, I could’ve cried. What felt like an hour must’ve passed. “Oh, God please.”

  He slowed his hips, rolling them against me. “Not yet. A little longer.”

  I wasn’t used to such control. So different. Not cruel, or painful in the way to which I’d become accustomed. His demands were laced with a promise—of pleasure for us both.

  Pausing, he flipped me onto my stomach and drove into me, faster, harder. Powerful thighs beat out a cadence of pleasure with each smacking of our skin, never once faltering in pace, while the sounds of his cock gliding inside of me left me wanting to be ravished.

  “When you come, Aubree, I want you to come apart,” he told me. “Explode into a million pieces. Scream my name so loud, this whole goddamn city will know who’s fucking you.”

  A sharp sting to my ass accompanied the echo of a smack, and I cried out. Tighter, I wound into myself, every muscle trembling, stomach flexing and relaxing with each slam, slam, slam from behind. I reached down and pinched my clit, head rolling against the pillow. Yeah, yeah, yeah. A moan droned inside my mind.

  His grunts and groans excited me as they rippled through my body, titillating my beaten muscles. I felt like a ball of livewires bouncing against the mattress, looking to ground itself. Every touch, every caress exacerbated by the tension so taut, I could’ve snapped. My stomach coiled, my pussy clenching him, milking him. Sweat covered both of us, a slick coating of toil and exhaustion.

  I prepared myself for the pain of another missed climax, gripping the bars of the bed, burying my face in the pillows, but still he kept on. Desperation pulled at my stomach, and I lifted my ass to meet his thrusts, wonder
ing if I’d regret the expense of energy.

  A string of curses was all my parched throat could form. How the hell could he hold out so long? He hadn’t come yet.

  Higher, I climbed, clinging to the edge. Oh, Jesus, yes! Please!

  He yanked my hair, and that was all it took to shatter around his cock. Heat blazed through my muscles and cooled to a wash of tingles. He pulled out and warm seed pooled in the small of my back.

  “Fuck, Aubree, you little pistol. Motherfu—!” Spurt after spurt, it shot out of him

  He released my hair, and my head fell to the pillow. Languid. Exhausted. A slow, morphine drip of satisfaction swam through my veins, making my heart pound. I tried to catch my breath as my hips fell to the bed.

  Drawing me into him, he kissed my shoulder. No pain. Only pleasure. Intense pleasure that would take hours to recover from.

  I couldn’t move. Could scarcely breathe.

  As though two men with their own level of stamina lived inside of him, Nick had kept me tense, wired, and ready to snap, before delivering a series of the most powerful, world-rockin’ orgasms I’d ever experienced. No other man had ever brought me to the pinnacle of pleasure the way Nick had, and I feared, none ever would.

  In my captor’s arms, I drifted asleep. Sated. Warm. Safe.

  * * *

  I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Three in the morning. We lay in a tangle, his arm draped over my side, cupping my breast. Nick’s body twitched, his tip pressed against my ass, and suddenly I missed the feel of him inside me, needed him filling me. I squirmed in his grasp, hoping to rouse him again.

  He groaned, his long deep breaths turning to a sharp inhale, and his grip tightened, rolling my nipple between his fingers. From behind, he wedged his knee beneath my thigh, lifting it enough to spread my legs, and pushed two fingers inside me.

  “How’d I know you’d be wet?” His deep voice tickled my ear, penetrating despite its drowsy slur.

  I laughed and reached behind, gripping the back of his head, as he pumped his fingers from behind. Withdrawing, he smeared the wetness between my ass cheeks and over my hole. He did it again, lubricating the entrance, before pressing the tip of his cock there.

  I exhaled a captive breath. “Wait.” Anal had been forced on me once, an experience that’d left me wary of anyone coming close to touching me there. “Nick, I don’t …”

  “ Fuck. I’m still half asleep—I’m sorry, Aubree. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I just ...” I squeezed the top of his thigh. “I just don’t want to bring any bad memories into this. With you.” Craning my head brought my gaze toward the ceiling, the cracks and peeling paint there somehow matching the way I saw myself— not quite as I used to be. “I still want you, though.”

  He slid his tip down to a more comfortable entrance, and as he pushed inside of me, his cock grew, pressing against my walls. He didn’t move at first, just held himself there for a moment, but a shuddered breath told me he couldn’t remain still for long.

  Reaching back, I gripped his thigh and ground against him in slow, erotic circles, digging my nails into his tightening leg muscles. He kissed my shoulder and, with his leg wrapped around mine, rocked into me. Calm, gentle, lazy. No pain, only pleasure as we lay side by side.

  His draped arm moved from my breast to the juncture between my thighs, and those magical, strong fingers slid, feather light across my clit. The slow rocking relaxed me, put me in some erogenous trance, and I found myself meeting each thrust like a well-timed machine—a perfect machine that matched each push and pull, like waves crashing against a shore. Bringing his hand to my face, he inserted his fingers into my mouth, allowing me to taste myself. As I sucked, his thrusts hastened. Faster. He held tight to my jaw, fingers still lodged inside my mouth, before he his hand fell back down to my cleft and rubbed my clit.

  Closing my eyes, I accepted the easy glides that filled me with each slam from behind, while my mind painted a vivid picture of what we must’ve looked like from a birds-eye view: his body curled into mine, rutting against me, my body arched, paralyzed in his grasp. Heat scorched my muscles, my head tipped back until his chin hit my shoulder, lips brushing the ridge of my ear.

  “You’ll be the death of me, Aubree.” He whispered my name with an air of power that crumbled my defenses. “I want more of you. Can’t stop. I want to stay buried inside of you forever.”

  “Nick. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” My walls gripped him with each deep drive, and I reveled in the muscle control. His scent penetrated my nose, the warm spicy cologne mixed with the thick aroma of sex that had my muscles burning with tension as I clung to the edge. My stomach clenched. Heat flared, a wildfire of lust spreading through my veins.

  Light exploded behind my eyes, rippling through my body like an aftershock. Blinding pleasure trailed it, coating my hot muscles with a cool tingle that left me numb, weakened. I called out his name, and when he pulled out of me, his body shuddered, breaths broken by moans and curses.

  We lay breathing, just breathing.

  “I feel so warm. So good. No one has ever made me feel so good in my whole life.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the confession, at the sadness and pathetic truth that a stranger, a man I’d only known a couple of weeks, had shown me more reverence than any other man I’d ever been with. I’d been used for so long, I’d forgotten how pleasurable sex could be.

  “I will obliterate any motherfucker who lays a hand on you again.” His sleepy voice carried almost a drunken slur, as his arm tightened around my body, as if claiming what was his. “I’d kill for you.”

  In his bed, amid the darkness, the destruction, the ruin, he fixed me. His gentle hands delicately fastened together the pieces of me that’d become so broken and scattered with no hope for convergence. As I lay beside him, the soothing tap of rain against the window, I felt whole.

  33

  Nick

  The heady scent of sex and the sweetness of sugar filled the bedroom, when I opened my eyes to faint rays of sunlight trying to peek beyond the dark drapes. Sweat coated my body, made more apparent every time a wisp of October air drifted through the window that must’ve been opened sometime in the night. Brushing across my skin, it cooled the heat that burned inside of me.

  I hadn’t slept so goddamn good in ages, and even then, every muscle sagged with exhaustion, as if I’d gone to battle and lay in the aftermath of war. The sweet floral scent intensified, long, silky locks of hair tickling my face, and soft skin passed beneath my fingertips as I dragged my palm along the smooth contours of the woman lying next to me. I had to lift my head from the pillow to believe that it was Aubree Culling.

  Aubree.

  What the hell?

  I hadn’t finished sex inside of a woman in years.

  She stirred against me, arching as she stretched, and I caressed the curves of her body, needing to touch her just to be sure it wasn’t another dream. I’d had so many of her in the last week.

  “Mmmm, good morning,” she purred.

  I pushed the hair away from her ear and whispered, “Shower with me.”

  With a smile and nod, she rolled onto her back, mid-stretch. “I feel amazing.”

  I made her feel amazing? I rubbed a hand down my face and rose up from the bed, heading toward the bathroom. Flipping on the shower, I turned to find her standing naked and perfect in the doorway.

  She tipped her head. “Who’s Alec?”

  A jolt of electricity shot up my spine. “What?”

  “You were … talking in your sleep last night. You said Alec is going to kill you.”

  “Alec is no one.” I spun back around and stepped inside the stall, hoping I wouldn’t have to say something regrettable to drop the subject as I beckoned her inside.

  She placed a hand on my chest, not looking me in the eye. “You’re an enigma, Nick. I feel like I’ll never fully know anything about you.” Her eyes met mine. “And that’s okay. The way you make me feel …” She smiled an
d nodded. “That’s okay.”

  Knots unfurling inside my stomach, I dragged my fingertip along her temple then pulled her inside with me. I wished I could tell her everything, because she made me want to get fuckin’ spill-happy, the way she spoke with such understanding. She seemed to know all about shields and secrets and keeping my cards hidden. That only came courtesy of her own pain and suffering—her own demons I was certain I’d never know about.

  That was the thing about pain, it came with a universal understanding for those who survived it—don’t ask, don’t tell.

  Hot sprays of water pulsed against my back, and I leaned forward, seizing her lips in a kiss to say I’m done talking. Rising up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back, as if to reply I agree, let’s get back to sex.

  I’d screwed shit up royally, because after last night, having Aubree so much as glance in my direction would make her tackle bait. I turned her around and pulled her into me, resting my head in the crook of her neck, kissing the side of her throat, down to the base, and across her shoulders. She felt small and right, her curves pressed into my body in all the right places. Together, our bodies melded perfectly, like two halves of a whole. Paired with her words from moments ago, a realization struck me. We fit the only way two fucked up people could possibly fit together.

  I saw darkness in her beauty, and she saw beauty in my darkness. Yin and yang. Black and white. Beauty and scars; fury and forgiveness. She should’ve been my nemesis, but in her, I found something I didn’t know I was looking for. I shouldn’t have wanted her. Sex with her was forbidden, after all, as I was the loveless villain, and she the prized possession of a man who’d taken everything from me. Every instinct screamed inside of me to kill her. Destroy her. Break her, the same way I’d been broken. By the law of the streets, she was my retribution.