Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Shit, Blue.”
“I’ll be okay. How is Isabelle?” I ask, remembering.
“She’ll be fine. Baby too. Did he… Blue, did he touch you?” his lips tighten, jaw setting.
“He didn’t rape me. You came in time.”
Zeke looks straight ahead and nods, then we’re driving. We don’t speak until we reach the house. He parks, kills the engine and climbs out, coming to my side to open my door. He releases the seat belt and lifts me up. I’m grateful because I’m not sure I could walk if he let me. I hug the blanket to myself as he carries me into the house. I see the grandfather clock in the hallway. It’s almost five in the morning. How long did Wyatt have me?
Zeke climbs the stairs with me in his arms. We make our way to the room he’s been using. Inside, he switches on the light and carries me into the bathroom where he sets me down. He then runs water in the shower.
He watches me as he strips off his clothes. They’re destroyed. He throws them into the trash.
I glimpse myself in the mirror. See my face. The blood smeared on it, the clown-grin and I start crying again, the kind of sobbing that wracks my body.
“Shh. It’s over,” Zeke says, taking me in his arms, letting the blanket fall away when he holds me to him.
“He was going to carve into my face. He said… He said.”
“Shh. Into the shower now. It’s over. Let me clean you. Let me take care of you.”
I nod and we walk into the oversized shower stall. The water isn’t too warm but still stings when it hits my skin. Zeke is careful to clean me, using his hands to wash away blood before shampooing my hair, conditioning it.
While the conditioner sits in my hair, he washes my body again. When he’s finished, I take the body wash from him, pour some out into the palm of my hand and wash him, too, letting my hands run over smooth skin and hard muscle, taking in the curving bodies of the dragons on his arms, his back, washing his hair when I’m done with his body before taking his face in my hands and rising up on tiptoe to kiss him. To kiss his swollen lips again, to taste him.
It's different this time. He tastes different and he feels different and when he carries me out of the shower, both of us soaking, and lays me down on his bed, I spread my legs open as he settles between them.
“I need to check your wounds,” he says, voice hoarse.
“After. I need you to hold me now, Zeke. I need you inside me.” I kiss him and he kisses me, a hungry, needy sort of kissing that grows frenzied as I weave my fingers into his wet hair and pull him down to me.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I shake my head, confused. “Why?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m sorry I let him hurt you.”
“You saved me.” I sit up a little. “You saved me Zeke. You saved my life.”
His eyebrows furrow, forehead creasing.
“You idiot. You saved my life.” I kiss him again, wrap my legs around his waist. “Make love to me. Make love to me.” I’ve never said those words before. Never. The choice is not lost on me.
“Blue, you’re hurt—”
“I need you. I need to feel you inside me, Zeke. Please.”
Tears fall from the corners of my eyes. He bends his head and kisses me again, taking my thigh with his hand and drawing my leg up and then he’s inside me and I’m sucking in a ragged breath as I take him. It’s not enough, though. I can’t get close enough. I cling to his shoulders, feel his strength, the power in his arms and pull him to me as he makes love to me, moving slow and deep. He kisses me, tongue wet inside my mouth, and I kiss him back, panting for breath. We’re close, so close, there’s nothing between us and the pain I feel, the welts and cuts and bruises, it becomes a part of this, of us, because it is a part of us. Zeke and I, there’s a darkness inside us. It belongs to us, it envelops us. Finding him, being with him, this killer, this beast, my avenger, my monster, I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before with an urgency as intense as the orgasm building inside me, inside him. I see it in his eyes, feel it in the thickening of his cock, in the frenzy of the fucking.
I love him.
I love this man. This brutal killer.
I love him.
8
EZEKIEL
I kiss her, swallowing the sound of her cry when she comes. She moans into my mouth, the sound undistinguishable from that of pain. Unable to get close enough, I grind against her, needing more of her. The throbbing walls of her pussy push me over the edge, making me come hard as I hold her to me, trying not to hurt her as my fingers dig into tender flesh to bring her closer, ever closer. My cock throbs inside her warm, tight pussy, filling her, marking her, leaving a little of myself inside her. Her mouth tastes like copper and honey, blood and sweetness, mine and hers, and orgasm seems to throb and pulsate through me for an eternity and not for nearly long enough.