Sinful

by Scarlett Sanderson

  And she hated herself for it.

  Zeke never promised her forever. And she’d still allowed herself to go deeper. Stupid mistake.

  She’d distanced herself from him after the attack on the store. Gave herself space to breathe, to think without his intense presence.

  When another loud explosion ripped through the surround sound, she jumped.

  Rafe slapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head. “Who makes this shit? Honestly, it’s so bad. Everyone knows it wouldn’t explode like that with such a small amount of explosives.”

  Jay snorted. “You’d know, huh, brotha?”

  Sammy chuckled. “Come on, Jay, no one is better at making shit go boom than Rafe.”

  She watched the exchange with partial amusement and part curiosity. She’d love to know what the Knights were involved with. How far down the path of destruction they’d travelled.

  The men went back to the movie. The only sounds came from the screen or the occasional shuffle as someone reached for snacks.

  She allowed her mind to drift. She refused to look at Zeke. Refused to catch his eye even though she felt his boring into her. Instead, she watched Sammy nuzzle his chin against his woman’s neck. The woman giggled.

  She dozed off for a few minutes. When she opened her eyes, her gaze fell on Tiny. His woman shoved her hand down his pants and blatantly rubbed his cock. They kissed passionately. Tiny’s hand tunneled under her skirt and Grace saw the thin strip of a purple thong. They were clearly getting each other off in the middle of the room. No one else seemed to take any notice, like this was a normal occurrence.

  Heat flamed her cheeks. She was no prude, but she couldn’t get used to these overt sexual displays. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t take her eyes off them. The woman’s mouth dropped open in ecstasy. Tiny narrowed his eyes as she worked her hand up down inside the tent of his sweatpants.

  Grace’s clit pulsed and she squeezed her thighs together discretely. Voyeurism had never been her thing, but the more she was around public displays, the more she realized they turned her on. She enjoyed watching other couples. Watching pleasure take them.

  Her nipples tightened as Tiny sucked the woman’s breast through the thin silk of her t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and Grace could see the outline of the pink, puckered bud.

  She shifted in her seat. She could already feel the damp patch in her own panties. She was definitely turning into some kind of sex fiend.

  The woman’s lips pursed into an O formation and shame filled her as she realized how excited she’d become.

  Grace looked away, her gaze connected with Zeke’s. Desire burned in the whiskey orbs, darkening them. The intensity of his need snapped along her nerve endings, down her spine, lodging between her thighs. One look from him and she was willing to strip, crawl over, take out his cock and suck him. The image was so real, she could almost taste him on her tongue.

  She bit her lip to keep from moaning.

  He fixed her with a slow, sexy smile and quirked a brow, daring her to do the thing she fantasized about.

  Damn him.

  Unwilling to give into his dare, she picked up one of the empty snack bowls. “Be right back.”

  She skirted around the mass of people on the floor, ignoring Zeke and storming into the kitchen. The air was cooler here, less charged with sexual energy and tension. Her heated body calmed, releasing some of the raging need. She loved and hated the fact Zeke could make her so needy with one god-damn look.

  She should never have come. She needed to ween herself off him. He’d become her addiction. Addictions could be beaten. Cold turkey was definitely the way forward.

  She shook some more chips into the bowl and formulated her plan of avoidance. Suddenly the air felt different—warmer, crackling with electricity and intensity.

  The hairs on her arms stood on end. Her nipples puckered as though standing to attention. Her knees weakened, becoming loose and heavy. She tightened her grip on the bowl, refusing to turn around and face him.

  “What can I do for you, Zeke?” She could saw his silhouette in the window as he moved closer.

  His features swam in to focus. Jesus, he was handsome. Masculinity personified.

  Raw. Commanding. Dominating.

  “You’re avoiding me.”

  He stepped behind her, a mere whisper away from her back. She could smell the spicy scent of him, feel the power emanating from his body. It resonated in her core.

  “What gives you that idea?”

  Crap, she wished she didn’t sound so breathless.

  He lifted the hair from the back of her neck and pressed his lips to her exposed skin. Her fingers dug into the glass bowl, her knuckles whitening. Nope. She would not respond to him, but it was sooooo difficult when his soft lips teased a sensitive spot at the top of her spine.

  “Zeke, stop,” she said meekly, not really putting any effort into the command.

  “You sure?” He licked his way to her collarbone, biting down on the tender flesh. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to make her jump.

  Her breasts swelled. Her body primed, her inner walls clenching as she became ready for him to fuck her.

  Not this time. She wouldn’t allow herself to be swept up in the chemistry between them.

  Grace turned and stared him directly in the eye. “Not today, Zeke.” Her subconscious mind screamed at her to stop being a whiny bitch and jump his sexy bones.

  Zeke quirked a brow, ran a hand over his stubbled jaw before leaning down and caging her against the work surface. “Why are you avoiding me? I know you still want me. I can smell how turned you on. I can smell how much you want my cock inside you. Why are you backing away?”

  He licked his lips and she focused on the tiny beads of moisture left behind. She wanted to lean in and taste them. “Because it’s too much, Zeke. This whole fucking thing is too damn much. Of course I want you. I can’t stop wanting you. But as you told me at the beginning of this—you’re a bad boy and I’m a good girl. We don’t mesh. Our lives don’t mesh. And this good girl is more involved than she thought possible.” She sighed as the truth she’d hidden spilled out. “So I’m backing away. Taking some space. Giving you what you want.” She pushed at his chest. “Go back to what you know, Zeke. I can’t do this anymore.”

  As much as it pained her to turn away from him, she did. She couldn’t look directly at him. It hurt to push him away—physically and emotionally. She risked a glance at him through the window. He looked like she’d slapped him. He looked shocked. Broken. Vulnerable.

  Then the mask came down. His features shuttered.

  Talking to himself, he whispered, “Fuck it.”

  He pressed his front against her back. The hard outline of his cock prodded her ass. He gripped her arms and murmured in her ear, “We’re not done, Grace. Not by a fucking long shot. You know it, I know. We’re involved. Yes, it’s complicated. Get over it.”

  He palmed her breasts, teasing the sensitive nipples through her shirt and bra. The rational side of her demanded she scream at him to back away. Screamed at her to walk away. But the other side, the darker, needy, edgier side won out. She thrust her tits forward into his eager hands, desperate for more. He played her body like no other man. He was a maestro to her instrument.

  Slowly, he trailed a hand up to her throat, curling his fingers and stilling her movement. Breath stalled in her chest as she waited for him to do more—tighten his grip, demand something from her, anything.

  Fear heightened her excitement. Her pussy slicked and her heart pounded. From a few brief minutes of foreplay, she was ready for him.

  Instead of squeezing, he gently cradled her head whilst snaking the other hand down between her thighs. He rubbed her clit through her leggings and she moaned, desperate for the release she knew was coming.

  “So responsive. No one else can you make feel this good, can they, Grace?” He goaded as he continued petting her.

  She widened her stance, allowi
ng him greater access. Her mind whirled with pleasure and denial, and all the reasons why she shouldn’t let him do this.

  He sucked her earlobe, nibbled before soothing the bite marks. “You don’t get to come. Not until to you admit no one else can ever make you feel this way.”

  His rough, guttural tone made her moan again. She couldn’t form a sentence even if she wanted to.

  “Tell me, Grace. Admit you fucking belong to me.” He ripped open her shirt before lifting first one, then the other, breast out of their plain satin cups and toyed with her nipples. His other hand sat firmly around her throat.

  If anyone walked into the kitchen they’d get flashed. The thought of one of the others watching heightened her desire.

  She pushed her ass back, ground her fleshy globes against his groin, working his cock even though she couldn’t reach him.

  “I own these tits.” He shoved a hand into her pants and panties, found her clit. “I own this pussy. Forget the bullshit, forget that we come from different worlds. Focus on how I make you feel.”

  And hell did he make her feel good. He circled a finger in her wetness before flicking her clit back and forth. Grace curled her toes, trying to anchor herself as she became a mass of tingling, electrified nerve endings. Any second now she’d burst apart.

  Zeke was right, no one could make her orgasm like he could. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, he owned her body.

  All thought fled when he slid his middle finger inside her. He began pumping in time with the thumb working magic on her clit. Just as she was about to tumble over the edge, he stopped.

  “Tut-tut, Grace. I told you, you don’t get to come until you admit you’re mine.”

  What the hell did that even mean? Of course her body was his. Wasn’t it obvious? However it didn’t change anything else.

  He squeezed her throat. Very gently, the barest hint of pressure, yet she felt it right down to her toes.

  “Tell me, Grace. Tell me before I lose my fucking mind.”

  She could see the intensity on his face through the glass.

  Wow.

  No one had ever looked at her the way he looked at her now. Possessive wasn’t strong enough. Sheer, total ownership would be better. It thrilled her.

  How could she resist a man who looked at her like that?

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts. When she re-opened them, she stared directly at him and released what was in her heart. “I’m yours. You own me.”

  His nostrils flared and the tic in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth hard. “Zeke. Say ‘I’m yours, Zeke’.”

  “I’m yours...” She waited a heartbeat before adding, “Zeke.”

  “I need to be inside you. Say yes,” he said as he ripped down her leggings and underwear before fumbling with the zipper on his jeans.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, needing his cock inside her like she needed to breathe.

  He pushed on her back and bent her over the work surface, her leggings round her knees and her ass sticking out. In one smooth thrust, he seated his cock inside her to the hilt. He didn’t give her time to adjust to his size. To the sheer intensity of being filled by him. His balls slapped against her ass as he pounded into her. It was pure, furious fucking, like he was staking his claim on her. Showing her what possession was. No condom this time, but she didn’t care. She was on the pill and Zeke insisted he always used a condom in the past.

  Grace matched his thrusts, pushing back to meet him when he pulled out, needing him to keep fucking her, driving her mad with the incessant craving to feel him stretching her inner walls.

  “Oh, shit, Zeke, that feel so good,” she panted.

  His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to bruise.

  “Touch your clit. Work yourself for me. I want to feel your cunt come all over my cock. Give it to me, Grace.”

  She gripped the counter for balance and touched herself as instructed. She worried her clit frantically, the tiny bundle of nerves already hard and sensitive from his earlier ministrations.

  Their moans and whimpers of pleasure filled the kitchen. Surely everyone could hear them.

  “Zeke, I can’t...” she stopped touching herself and clamped a hand over her mouth to try and suppress some of the sound.

  “No,” he hissed as he slammed into her, stilled and tugged a handful of her hair sharply enough to send pain prickling across her scalp. “Don’t hide it. I want everyone to know you belong to me.”

  She removed her hand and he guided it back between her thighs.

  “Good girl.”

  This time he thrust harder and she loved every forceful shove inside her pussy. She brushed her clit. Once. Twice. “Zeke, I can’t...I’m going to come...oh...”

  “Come for me. Scream for me, Grace.”

  Her pussy clenched as ripple after ripple of pleasure shot through her system. Her legs locked. Her spine bowed as she screamed out her pleasure, not caring who heard. Her muscles trembled with the intensity of her orgasm.

  Zeke roared behind her. “Fuck, fuck,” he cursed as he shot hot jets of come deep inside her. “Own you. Mine. All mine.”

  She couldn’t think. He’d shattered all her defenses with the best orgasm of her life. Zeke kept raising the bar, ruining her for other men.

  He really did own her.

  She rested her forehead against the marble surface, relishing the coolness against her flushed skin.

  Zeke pulled out with a groan. She could tell he was still semi-erect and it sent a shiver down her spine. He turned her in his arms, her body offering no resistance as he smoothed sweaty strands of hair from her face.

  She wondered how she must look. Probably fucked, flushed and disheveled.

  “You amaze me. You’re perfect.”

  She blushed. “You’re just saying that because I let you come inside me.”

  He gave her a laconic smile. “Maybe.” He cupped her face. “Seriously, give me your trust. We have something, fucked if I know what it is yet, but don’t back away from me. We’re intelligent adults. Let’s figure this out.”

  His words were music to her soul, but she couldn’t get ahead of herself. He wasn’t offering her anything. Wasn’t professing undying love. Just figuring things out.

  At this point, she’d take it. She didn’t know how they would work either. It wasn’t like she had all the answers.

  “There is a lot to figure out.”

  He bumped his forehead against hers. “Give us a chance, Grace. Its early days. Let’s see what we are. Just don’t fucking run from me because you think I want something different.”

  Once again she saw beneath the facade of Zeke Knight—hell raiser and badass. This part of him, the part he kept hidden from everyone, made her gooey inside.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Instead of answering with words, she nodded her agreement.

  She heard the breath whoosh out of his lungs before he pressed a tender kiss to her brow.

  Tiny bellowed from the den, bursting their bubble. “Hey, when you kids have finished fucking, can we get some more chips and dips? Guy could damn near starve in here.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes and shot back, “Fuck you, Tiny.”

  “Nah, boss, more like fuck you, and a damn good fuck by the sounds of things.”

  Heat flamed her cheeks and she wondered how she’d ever face them again, but Zeke helped her rearrange her clothing before picking up the bowl of chips, drew her under his arm and steered her back to the den.

  They would face them together.

  Hopefully tonight would be the start of something good.

  Chapter Twelve

  After the initial awkwardness and a few sexy jibes from the rest of the crew, Grace settled back in to the movie. This time she didn’t sit on the couch alone. Zeke swapped with Jay and she found herself stretched out on top of Zeke, his arms around her as they watched. She could feel his erection prodding into her stomach but he didn’t make a move to do anythin
g about it, so she tried to ignore it.

  Yeah, like you can ignore the monster. Hello.

  She bitch slapped her libido into submission and focused on the screen action.

  Her sister had left with Gabe a few minutes before they came back into room. Apparently Kadence wasn’t feeling well. Grace shot her a text and Kadence told her she felt nauseous. Gabe walked her home and was making her some ginger tea.

  Grace smiled at the reply. Gabe was a good man. Her initial reaction to him and Rafe had been wrong. They might be man-sluts, but Gabe seemed genuinely smitten with her sister.

  The door knocked.

  Sammy bounced up and pulled it open before saying, “Hey, Elena. Come in.”

  He made a sweeping welcome gesture and in walked a tall woman with long, auburn hair. She wore a charcoal grey skirt suit and a crisp, white pussy-bow blouse. She carried a stylish black leather briefcase. As she moved towards the couch, Grace marveled at her four-inch heels. She never understood how women stayed upright in those things. Her own foray into heels made her look like Bambi on ice.

  “Gentlemen,” Elena said, her voice sultry and smoky.

  Elena was a total knock-out and she seemed completely oblivious to her femininity. She exuded confidence and a hands off attitude Grace admired.

  Zeke shifted, tucking her tighter against him. “Elena. What can we do for you?”

  “As your lawyer, I’m here to inform you I’ve had some unofficial reports the FBI and ATF are sniffing around.”

  Zeke tensed. “Us or the Chinese?”

  “Both.”

  “Shit,” Jay cursed.

  Elena turned to look at him. “Quite.” Her gaze fell on Rafe and for a moment, the air thinned. In one brief look, Grace felt the emotion and intensity spark between them, yet both remained silent.

  Definitely a back story between Rafe and the hot lawyer. She needed to do some digging on that score.

  “Let’s leave the business for now,” Zeke stroked her arm. An absentminded gesture that send shivers of pleasure dancing along her nerve endings. “I’ll have Sammy look into it and get back to you about next steps.”