by Lora Leigh
Parting the swollen folds, he tongued the sensitive inner flesh lazily. Flicking against the clenched entrance to her vagina, he rimmed the opening before testing it with the tip of his tongue. Pleasure seared her, burned against already sensitized nerve endings, and sent sensation clashing through her senses.
Too much. Not enough. Too easy. Not easy enough. She didn’t know if she needed more or if she needed less sensation. All she knew for certain was that his tongue was lethal. It teased and tempted, licked and tasted until Kenni was desperate for release.
She’d never felt pleasure like this. She’d never known it could be this intense, this exquisite. Lightning-swift, forked trails of lashing sensation tore through her senses, setting off explosions of such heat throughout her body that she felt tortured with pleasure.
His tongue teased and tasted her intimate flesh, his lips captured sensitive skin, suckled at it and heated it. He tortured her with such pleasure she was begging, nearly crying for ease before he captured her clit between his lips, suckled it into the heat of his mouth, and flicked his tongue over it, around it—rubbed against it.
The implosion ruptured her senses with ecstasy. Bright, livid color exploded behind her closed eyes as her body tightened, shuddering uncontrollably beneath the violent lashes of ecstasy.
Spasms tore through her, stole her breath, and left her gasping for air.
Sensation was still rocketing through her when he moved. He rose between her thighs, coming over her as a blunt, heated pressure tucked at the entrance of her vagina and began pressing against it with steady force.
Kenni struggled to open her eyes, to catch her breath. Forcing her lashes open she looked down in time to see the heavy, blunt tip of Jazz’s erection as it disappeared inside her.
Her senses screamed out in pleasure and in pain. Eyes wide, she let fascination and shock hold her in their grip as she felt her inner flesh rippling around the intruder, tightening and pulling though mere inches penetrated.
And there was a lot left to go.
“Damn, Kenni, you’re so tight,” he groaned as his lips pressed against her shoulder. “So hot…”
Kenni bit her lip, her senses so immersed in the sensations tightening inside her that she hadn’t considered he would be unable to fit.
“I’m sorry.” She wanted to please him, wanted her body to please him. “I’m so sorry, Jazz.”
He eased back as a dark chuckle parted his lips. “Sorry? Oh God, Kenni, you’re fucking exquisite.”
Pausing at the entrance his hips bunched, power gathered in his thighs, and a second later the broad, heavy flesh forged harder, deeper inside her as the fiery pleasure became a deep, burning discomfort that shocked her body and tore her free of the building waves of ecstasy pulling her into another release.
Kenni forced back a cry of pain. She didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want to disappoint him. She’d waited so long for this, for his touch, his possession. The pain would be okay soon. Surely it would.
She stilled beneath him, forced her fingers to uncurl where they gripped his back, her nails to ease from his hard flesh.
He still wasn’t fitting.
Kenni nearly whimpered at the knowledge that it would hurt again.
“Ah baby.” The deep rasping croon eased some of the fear.
She would endure much worse for this man.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay, Jazz.”
His lips eased over her shoulder, her neck. Slow, whispering caresses that had her senses pausing, waiting to see what he would do.
His hips didn’t move. Despite the contractions of her vagina around his thick length, he remained still but for the throb of the thick crest buried within her grip.
“You’re perfect.” His voice was strained, his muscles tight as his kisses drifted to the tops of her breasts. “My perfect sweet Kenni. No one’s ever given me such a precious gift.”
She’d never imagined giving herself to anyone else. Every fantasy, every desire since she was sixteen had been centered on him. His lips were easing over her upper breast to the still-hard tip of a nipple. She loved his lips on her nipples. She would endure a little pain for that pleasure.
Only it was better than before.
She was shocked at the cry of renewed need as it escaped, surprised she had the breath to make the sound.
As his lips surrounded the hard tip and he sucked it firmly inside the heat of his mouth, those hard lightning forks of sensation ripped from her nipple to the painfully stretched flesh he was invading.
A spasm rippled through the muscles clenched around his erection as Kenni felt the slick, heated slide of her response ease around the intrusion.
With every pulse and clench of the flesh surrounding his cock, Jazz’s lips became hungrier. He suckled at first one nipple then the other until the striking bolts of pleasure had her hips lifting to him, the pain of the penetration merging with the pleasure whipping around her again.
Jazz didn’t ease back at her response. Instead, one hand clamped to her hip as his lips and tongue pleasured the hard peak and he thrust against her again. The hard flesh buried to the hilt inside her, filling her, stretching her so tight around him that his throbbing length caressed all of her vagina.
“Jazz.” Her hands gripped his biceps now as new sensations began tearing at her, tearing through her.
His breath rasped as her ear. A groan tore from his lips while powerful, corded muscles flexed against her.
“Lift your knees,” he rasped at her ear. “Grip my hips, baby.”
His hand slid from the curve of her hip to her bent knee to guide it into place. Once she was positioned as he wanted his hips shifted, the full length of his erection settling deeper inside her.
Kenni whimpered at the increased sensation, her knees automatically tightening on him as a rough groan vibrated against her ear.
“That’s it, Kenni,” he whispered. “Hold on to me, because heaven help us I don’t know how long my control is going to last.”
Her lips parted to question the comment when he moved. Pulling his hips back, he shifted his erection inside her, moving against delicate responsive flesh. Pleasure clashed with pain. Her vagina rippled and clenched around him to hold him inside before the heavy flesh settled in place once again.
That slight movement ignited a trembling response.
“More,” she whispered brokenly as she shifted against him. “Do it again.”
Jazz gripped her hip with one hand, his hold tight as his breath rasped at her ear. “Ah hell, Kenni, your pussy’s so tight, so sweet around my cock.”
The erotically explicit words combined with the tingles and static pleasure had her muscles tightening around the intrusion with swift clenching spasms.
It was devastating. Fiery pulses of electric sensation began racing through her, building, throwing her ever closer to a pleasure she knew would destroy her.
“That’s it, Kenni,” he groaned, his voice tight. “Move against me like that.”
Her hips were shifting, moving against him, forcing his erection deeper.
Each hard thrust of his cock had her flying higher. The rasp of his erect flesh impaling her, retreating, only to surge inside her once again, deeper, harder, renewing the sense of pleasure-pain as he stretched her inner flesh. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned again, lifting himself to his knees in front of her.
Hard hands gripped her beneath her knees, pressing her legs back and spreading her farther. “There now, keep milking my cock, baby. Let me watch. Let me see you take me.”
Kenni cried out, the carnal intensity of his expression as arousing as the feel of his hard flesh penetrating her and his explicit demands spurring her.
Each thrust inside her tightened the bands of sensation burning and swirling through her senses. Each heavy penetration stretched delicate flesh, rasped against painfully sensitive nerve endings.
She was only barely aware of her cries as he moved harder against her, his t
hrusts increasing as he came over her again. Catching his weight on one elbow, he used the other hand to grip her hip again as his thrusts grew harder, faster.
Perspiration beaded on his shoulder, sliding along burnished gold flesh and catching in the short hairs growing across his chest.
Kenni stared up at him, caught, held by the intensity of the electric blue burning between lowered lashes. Pleasure began racing faster, harder. Slick flesh slid against slick flesh; breaths rasped from their chests as pleasured moans sounded through the room.
Her inner muscles clenched with hard, rapid ripples of response that tightened around her clit. Her nails bit into his biceps, her breathing became harder.
Kenni could feel herself unraveling.
Jazz’s gaze held hers as his erection pounded inside her, pushing her harder, faster.
“Jazz…” His name was a breathless cry; was rapture.
She couldn’t stop the explosion that tore through her and hurled her into a vortex of such ecstasy that for a heartbeat she wondered if she’d died. Wildfire consumed her, rapture hurled her from peak to peak as she heard Jazz’s heavy groan and felt pulsing heat spreading through her inner flesh.
Another blazing rush of pleasure overtook her.
Perspiration soaked her body and the flaming pleasure hurled her deeper, harder into a vortex she never wanted to escape.
She wanted to stay forever in the crashing waves of ecstasy, locked against his hard body, feeling his pleasure merging with hers. This was where she was born to be, in his arms, his pleasure …
Oh God, just let her stay here forever because reality was going to shred her soul when the danger returned.
* * *
Kenni slept.
A deep hard sleep indicative of an exhaustion as much emotional as physical.
Sitting on the side of the bed after running a cool cloth over her thighs and the swollen folds of her pussy, Jazz found himself staring into the darkness of the bedroom, more confused than he could ever remember being in his life.
He’d broken so many personal rules with this woman that he’d stopped keeping count. But tonight he’d broke one he’d set in stone.
He’d forgotten to wear a condom.
The memory of being surrounded by slick, tight muscles, the feel of her pussy milking his erection was so fucking good. So God-help-him sweet all he wanted to do was experience it again. To work his cock into the fist-tight grip of her pussy and fill her with his release over and over again.
He wanted to risk his soul with a woman who hadn’t even trusted him with the truth of her identity.
Biting back a curse, Jazz rose to his feet and made his way through the house. Checking the locks on doors and windows, giving Marcus and Essie a pet before gazing at the pups, sleeping with such innocence.
Years of moving from one lover to another, never allowing one of them to become emotionally attached to him, never letting his emotions become invested in any of them. Because they were already invested in a woman he believed was dead.
“This isn’t right,” Cord whispered as Jazz stood at Kenni’s grave site, hours after the funeral.
He hadn’t heard her brother approach, hadn’t known anyone was there. Staring at the mound of bare dirt, so focused on whatever gut-wrenching agony gripped him that nothing else had mattered.
“No, it’s not right,” Jazz agreed.
“Listen to me, Jazz, that’s not my sister in there.” Cord swung him around so fast that Jazz could only stare back at him in surprise, then in shock.
“What are you saying, Cord?” His heart was suddenly racing, an edge of hope rising inside him.
“You heard what that witness said,” Cord snapped, rage burning in his green eyes. “She was running from the hotel when she was shot. We have to find whoever grabbed her and ran with her.”
The hope died just as quickly.
“A druggie, Cord?” he whispered. “Your dad sent a dozen men to check that out, you were with them…”
Cord looked away, shaking his head slowly. When he turned back, Jazz saw the hopelessness that filled his brother’s gaze.
“What’s going on?” Cord whispered then. “There were three bodyguards with them, Jazz. How did this happen? How did it happen?”
Because the bodyguards had turned against her and her mother and attempted to kill both of them.
The hotel fire had been deliberately set—Vinny Maddox, Kenni’s father, had learned that much. An explosive device set on the floor Kenni and her mother’s suite was located on. The detective investigating the case reported that smoke inhalation had killed the mother and daughter, and the flames had destroyed their delicate bodies.
Moving from where the pups slept, Jazz made his way to the kitchen where the two silent Blanchard sisters sat with coffee and electronic tablets.
Pausing behind them he stared at the file pulled up on Kate’s screen. The investigator’s report from the fire in question.
“What are you thinking, Kate?” He turned to her, seeing the purpose in her eyes.
“I’m thinking she’ll never be safe until we figure out who wanted her dead to begin with,” Kate stated softly. “And from what she said, there’s a high chance that could be family. Perhaps one of her brothers.”
Jazz shook his head. “Not her brothers. Go ahead and eliminate them; I’d bet money neither Cord, Deacon, nor Sawyer was behind this or knew about it. They learn she’s alive then hell will hit the Kin until they find out who was behind it.”
“Let’s see if you’re right,” Lara suggested as she lifted a grainy, color photo from the small mobile printer they were using.
Taking it, Jazz stared at the vehicle that had nearly run Kenni down that afternoon.
“Where did you get this?” he asked her.
“Bank cameras.” A grin tugged at her lips. “I couldn’t get his face, but I got the side of his head. If nothing else, maybe, one of her brothers will recognize that, or the car. Everyone knows about the attempted hit-and-run,” she pointed out. “He shouldn’t think it strange if you’re trying to find out who attempted it.”
She was right.
He stared at the picture himself. There was something about the profile of the driver that nagged at him. A familiarity he couldn’t place.
“No doubt Cord will be here as soon as he hears about it,” he told them. “Hide your car in the barn before daylight. It should fit nicely in one of the empty stalls and there’ll be no chance of it being seen, even if the barn’s checked.”
“I’ll do it.” Kate rose from her seat and left the house silently through the back door.
Not even her footsteps were audible as she went across the porch. If he hadn’t known what to look for, he wouldn’t have seen her grip the railing to vault soundlessly to the ground below, either.
As he watched Kate move across the yard he was aware of Lara watching him closely, too thoughtfully. She was a dangerous woman when she let herself think too deeply.
“She’s the one, isn’t she?” Lara asked softly as her sister disappeared. “The reason why Jazz Lancing never gave his heart to a woman. Someone else already owned it.”
There was a thread of sadness in her voice, one Jazz couldn’t quite place.
“Yeah,” he admitted remembering the woman-child Kenni had been, and how easily she had snagged his heart. “She’s always owned it, Lara.”
She nodded before turning back to the tablet and sifting through files for long moments.
“Jazz?” she asked softly when he said nothing more. “Do you think you might have a brother somewhere? One who hasn’t already given his heart away, that is? Maybe one who doesn’t see the imperfections?”
The scar. She pretended she’d forgotten it was there, that it didn’t matter, but Kate had told him years before just how very aware Lara was of it.
“I think, Lara, you don’t have a single imperfection. And anyone who sees one needs his ass kicked,” he told her gently.
Lara rarely sh
owed her vulnerabilities to anyone, especially if her sister was around. Kate was incredibly protective of her younger twin. She would kill the man who broke Lara’s heart.
“Yeah, there’s that,” she agreed, her voice brighter now.
A false brightness and one he had no idea how to fix.
“We’ll find out what’s going on here.” Lara glanced back at him, her gaze set and filled with determination. “Then you can find that brother of yours for me. How’s that?”
“I don’t know, Lara.” Moving around the bar, he met her gaze again. “I think you and Kate need to head home. I don’t want you two involved in this.”
Her brow lifted slowly, a move he knew wasn’t a good sign.
“Really?” she drawled.
“This isn’t your fight,” he pointed out. If anything happened to her, or to Kate, then he doubted the other twin would survive.
“Just as we weren’t your fight when you barged headlong into that gang of bikers to save us,” she reminded him, her tone cool. “Forget it, Lancing, we’re not going anywhere, so you’re wasting your breath. And not because we owe you anything. Everyone who died trying to help her and her uncle was working alone, on their own. Gunny and Kenni stuck together, making it harder for the two- or three-man teams that went out after them. That’s why they survived, until they caught her uncle alone.”
“It’s not coordinated.” Jazz straightened then, staring at her in surprise as the truth hit him. “It hasn’t been a Maddox objective, or she would have been dead that first night. The Kin are never sent out in such small teams. It’s always a unit, always precisely planned.” And if a hit was ordered, a Maddox was always there to ensure the plan was followed.
“If that’s true, then it looks more like a few with a single objective in mind. But who would benefit from Sierra’s and Kenni’s deaths?” Lara asked.
“Answer that question,” Jazz growled, “and we’ve solved the problem.”
“If it’s just a few, then facing a group surrounding Kenni and asking questions, someone’s going to get scared and fuck up,” she guessed. “We need Slade and Zack on this.”
He nodded thoughtfully. Slade and Zack weren’t the only ones they needed on this. Cord, Deacon, and Sawyer needed to know their sister was alive and threatened by Kin. That would tip the scales.
