Page 13 of Come Fill Me

Go, Gabrielle’s voice repeated. I’ll wait for you… I’ll be here when you come back.

He was never going to see her again. Zeke knew it. Felt it. Intolerable pain ripped through him. He reached out to touch her hand again, to run his fingertips over her downy cheek. Instead, his fingers slid over what seemed to be cool linen.

Where the fuck am I?

On his next cautious breath, Zeke caught the unmistakable scent of violets mingled with musk—sweet and light, sultry and feminine.

The mist retreated, as did all hope of Gabrielle, replaced bydarkness, the smooth feel of expensive cotton beneath him and the heated weight of a female draped over his length.

Her lips brushed his in striking tenderness, her pleasantly scented breath filling his mouth.

Zeke stiffened, expecting another blaze of pain from the blood flow. Instead, each ache receded beneath soothing warmth, the kind delivered by a slug of booze or a potent narcotic.

She blew into his mouth again, her fingers stroking his biceps. Tingles dashed up Zeke’s arms. On instinct, he reacted, wrapping them around her, one hand on her smooth back, the other gripping her ass, meaty and plush, pulling her into his embrace.

Her breath caught. She tensed in what appeared to be surprise or dread, and yet her lips remained submissive against his, trembling as she parted them, yielding even more.

Bursts of heat, wondrous not painful, worked their way from Zeke’s chest to his groin, his thickening cock. It nuzzled against her cunt, dewy with arousal.

Again, she stiffened but didn’t leave him.

Her name drifted close, one Zeke knew from his visions but couldn’t retrieve. Thinking proved too difficult, the journey from near death to health, leaving him with little at the moment except raw instinct.

Tilting his head, he fitted his mouth to hers and thrust his tongue inside. She whimpered at the intimate invasion. Losing whatever restraint he’d owned, Zeke burrowed his fingers into her thick, fragrant mane to keep her from retreat as he deepened the kiss, not caring how savage it became, wanting it to be.

She’d brought him back against his will, which took him from Gabrielle. Now, she’d pay for that transgression and would see to his pleasure.

Her back arched at his hand sliding down the silky furrowbetween her cheeks, his fingers reaching her anus. She wiggled when he stroked the tight circle, and then she moaned as he dipped his hand lower, touching her cleft, her vaginal lips glutted with desire, damp with need.

Pleased, he kissed her with a right he’d taken, one she had no say in. The same as he’d had no choice in her bringing him back. With one hand, he held her head to his. With the other, he teased her clit. Delicately. Ruthlessly.

A new gasp escaped her, opening her mouth even more to his tongue. Zeke used it to his advantage, thrusting deeper, taking all he could, all she owed him, tasting a hint of the coffee she’d drunk.

And the saltiness of her tears.

His strokes paused. Gabrielle’s face flickered in his mind, her features frozen in panic as she died at the hands of Carreon’s men. A tragedy Zeke’s visions hadn’t predicted, as though the gods were playing with him, proving he was still a foolish, helpless mortal. Unbearable heartache tightened his throat and stoked his rage at his creator and enemies. No female should ever experience fear at the hands of a male. No man should allow such a thing.

Tempering his kiss, Zeke forced himself to be gentle and tender with this woman. He drew his thumb over her cheekbone and stroked her clit lazily.

Her body, so tense a moment ago, weakened against his. A wanting growl tore from the back of her throat. She suckled his tongue, wanting it deeper now, not content to have them apart. Cradling the side of his face, she tunneled her fingers through his hair, using it to hold him to her.

They kissed with the wonder of new lovers, yearning in each sigh and every moan. It proved too little. With his caring touch, her passion grew. Pushing his tongue aside, she filled his mouth with hers, grunting in what appeared to be pride at what she’daccomplished.

Not about to let her outdo him, Zeke rolled them over, their mouths still joined despite her faint squeal. Allowing her no chance to recover, taking what he knew she was offering, he used his knees to push her thighs apart. Holding his stiffened cock, he bathed the crown in her silky juices and plunged inside.

My god.

His body stilled then shuddered at her channel’s exquisite snugness and heat, the way she worked her muscles to coax him fully inside, giving him a home and returning his strength.

Indescribable sensations rocketed through Zeke. On a cellular level, he knew she was healing him. On an intellectual level, he understood she was the enemy. In this bed, confined by his weight, stretched by his hardness and size, she was a woman, lush and ripe, smelling of violets, musk, and the scent of sex.

With each of his powerful thrusts, measured and prolonged, the mattress shook beneath their weight, the springs squealing, the wood groaning.

From somewhere behind, a man murmured something, too quiet for Zeke to hear. Another answered, his comments equally low.

Their presence barely registered and certainly didn’t stop Zeke. Nothing could, except this woman’s fear, revulsion—or worse, her tears. Only they would keep him from her.

She tightened her legs around his hips, lifting herself so he could sink even deeper. His balls slapped her ass. He worked her clit with his thumb.

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