Swallow (Kindred, #2)

ONE-2

“Take off your panties,” he said, and she was sure he was going to take her here, against this wall in this darkened basement hallway.

She’d already given in to one of his commands, and his attention was enough to arouse her into forgetting about the plans she’d made. Picking her skirt higher, Zara found the elastic of her thong and pulled it down, past the lace summits of her hold-ups. Bending at the waist, her face was in his crotch when the fabric got to her ankles. He got closer, close enough that when she looked up, her nose brushed the solid length of him that was throbbing beneath his shorts.

Stepping out of the panties, she left them on the floor and grabbed the waist of his shorts with intentions of freeing him, but Brodie had other ideas. He intercepted her wrist, and while she was still bent over, he turned and dragged her towards the stairwell.

This was his house, they were alone, not even Art was around to happen upon them, but that could’ve been why Brodie chose to hurry her up to his bedroom. Screwing her in the hallway, without any concern of being discovered, was another reminder of what they’d lost.

Brodie got her up to his bedroom and didn’t slow when he reached the door, he got them inside and dragged her over to the bed. Her dress was still hanging on her arms, but when he flung her face first onto the mattress, he grabbed the hem of it and tugged it down to expose her. Zara pushed onto her hands to look around, the first thing she noticed was the blackness of the space she’d once considered a haven. The room was a mess, beer and bourbon bottles were on the bedside table with empty glasses and dirty plates beside them.

When she got the chance to come in and clear up, she did. But his erratic moods sometimes left her feeling unwelcome. Often Brodie flat out demanded that she leave him alone and get out.

His fingers skimmed down between her a*s cheeks and around until he made contact with her feminine threshold. Plunging the digits deep into her, he circled and spread them to expand her inner passage, testing how her body would yield for his c**k.

“Your p***y’s all juiced up, baby,” he grumbled.

She always got wet when he talked, whether it was dirty words about what he wanted to do to her, or commands meant to put her in her place, Zara gave her heart and her trust to the man she loved without reservations.

Brodie worked her for a few seconds and when he pulled her hips upward, she knew he was going to enter her from behind. Zara let herself be contorted, let herself be pushed and pulled for his pleasure because she gave him something no other woman did, he had everything he needed right here. Zara was his and although he hadn’t spelled it out yet, she knew that Brodie belonged to her. She gave him what he needed whenever he needed it and the possessive nature of his rough hands were enough to show her how grateful he was for her sticking by him.

Once he had quenched his desire in her body, he would need sleep, meaning she might still have time to show face at the wake. But Brodie had been her priority since the day that Art died and that wasn’t going to change now. She’d stay here, in his room, in his bed, for however long he wanted her there. Everything was secondary to her love for him and once he emerged from the isolation of his grief, their connection was going to be stronger than ever.

He massaged inside her, curling his fingers to explore her g-spot and twisting his hand to abrade her with his knuckles. His actions made her tense and relax all at the same time. Brodie was a combination of contradictions that proved how complex his character was, he wasn’t a killer who reveled in the scent of blood. He was a good man with morals of his own, even if they didn’t match the morals of the masses.

Preparing herself for his entry, she began to sway forward and back, using his wide fingers as a tool for her release. But while one hand was delivering pleasure to her, the other grabbed her arm and flipped her to her back, then with his shins over her thighs and his weight pushing into her shoulders through the heels of both hands, he growled down at her.

“You want out of here so bad?” he asked with a sneering smile that reeked of menace. “Prove it.”

This was his sport. She never refused to play these role play games with him because for every second she tried to get away from him, she’d spend twice as many seducing him or lying in his arms when they were done.

Taking a moment to build up air in her lungs, she kept her expression tight. When her eyes pinched, he lunged down, trying to snag her bottom lip, but she turned her head away and began to struggle.

“Get off me,” she said, trying to lift her legs, but she couldn’t kick out, the solid mass of his powerful thighs gave her as much room as a concrete block would. Still, she wriggled, turning her face away from his every attempt to kiss her.

“You’ve got something I want,” he said and bit her earlobe.

The pain was pleasure. There was no fear here, only stimulation. Brodie was strong. He worked hard on his body to make sure it was a weapon able to protect her. Trying and failing to free herself from his control was a reminder of how resolute he was to have her. His potency intoxicated her.

His weight came down to pin her pelvis onto the mattress and the pulsing proof of his intentions pressed itself into her. On feeling him so near, she began to writhe against that pleasure, but he surged forward making it impossible for her to move.

Releasing his grip for long enough to tear the strip of fabric between her b*a cups, she shrieked. That was one of her favorite bras and if she’d known this was going to happen, she wouldn’t have worn it. But her chagrin was erased when his stubble tickled her cleavage and moved deeper until the rough hair on his face scratched on the sensitive skin of her breasts.

Using the tip of his tongue, he licked his way to one n****e, circled it, and then crossed to the other. She expected the same delicate touch, instead he stole her n****e into his mouth and sucked it so hard a spear of pain shot through her and settled against the heat of her engorged center.

“I have to go,” she said, but her resistance was lessening.

“You give me what I need,” he said. He chose that moment to elevate his hips to free himself from his shorts. She sensed, or maybe hoped, that he meant those words because that admission would mean more to her than any game. “You’re my horny little plaything.”

The game wasn’t over, and she was pulled back into it when Brodie rose up to grab her inner thighs, he pulled her legs apart and leered down at the swollen pink flesh of her glistening vulva. Zara was ready for him, her body was on fire, her nerves fizzling, she wanted this, wanted his hands, his mouth, his d**k, all of it. Being intimate with Brodie was a rollercoaster, there were ups and downs, and just when you thought you had a handle on what he’d do next, he’d flip her upside down in a loop-the-loop.

“That’s what I need,” he murmured and curled his fingers around his shaft.

His hand moved up, then back down. He squeezed himself from hilt to head. Watching him pleasuring himself while remaining fixated on her body was a new kind of thrill. Even though it seemed like he was committing a private act, she wanted to be a part of it.

Sitting up, she barely got her balance before he seized her throat to pin her against the mattress. He came down over her so their upper bodies were parallel. Her knees made contact with his thighs, so she rubbed her legs up and down his, but the fabric of his shorts was still around his thighs and made complete skin-to-skin contact impossible. But she wasn’t disappointed.

Her throat was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t squeezing, just using his hand to keep her right where he wanted her. From how his other arm moved, she knew he was still pleasuring himself. But the intensity in his eyes, that wouldn’t leave hers, was a connection deeper than the one they were going to make with their bodies.

“Baby,” she whispered and stroked up his torso. “Talk to me.”

His brows snapped down. His frown was always an indicator of his annoyance. He widened his knees to spread her legs farther and she gasped at the burning ache in her upper thighs, but he pushed forward and impaled her with the organ he’d been caressing.

Because he was f*****g her so fast, she couldn’t breathe right. His frown was still there, fixed on her, pissed off that she’d let a moment of intimacy creep into their game. Brodie didn’t shy from intimacy, but he liked to be the one who initiated softer moments. Somehow, he’d known she didn’t mean she wanted dirty words from him. She wanted to know his heart because until he confessed his grief, there was always a chance it would consume him.

Her eyes closed as he shunted her body up with his powerful thrusts. His frame receded from hers, she relaxed for a beat, then tensed to rise up and meet his plunges with her own. Being a part of his body, for these precious unions, cleared her head and centered her thoughts in a way no other exercise or meditation could. Brodie was her rock and when she was with him, she never doubted her decisions.

All she needed from him was this commitment, and given what he’d recently lost, it meant a lot that he trusted her. It would have been easy for him to reject everyone. He could’ve retreated inside, cancelled all security clearances except his own, and disappeared from the radar forever. Instead, he was sharing his life with her. It just so happened that at the moment, his life existed inside the McCormack Manor walls.

Hot, wet bliss burned her veins and she had to grab his shoulders, to use him as traction, because she was losing her ability to keep up. Brodie batted her arms away and grabbed her hips, holding her at the angle he needed to increase his pace further. Just as she screamed out his name and the meteors of o****m shot through her body, Brodie cursed, surged forward, and released his liquid into her.

Seconds of silence flitted between them. As soon as he made eye contact, she opened her mouth to talk, but he scowled again, let her go, and got off the bed to head for the bathroom. He slammed the door and she heard the click of the lock. He was done with her and now she’d been dismissed.