Page 15 of Come Fill Me

Again, he leaned close, a strand of his hair tickling her cheek, his breath hot, sweet with restored health. Her body responded traitorously, her fingers relaxing, her sheath tightening around his cock.

He murmured, “You’re coming with me.”

She stilled at his choice of words. Not the same urgent suggestion that she had to come with him, but that she would…whether she wanted to or not. She gritted her teeth. Already he was showing his true nature. What an idiot she’d been for imagining him an innocent boy rather than a brutal man. How could she have felt shame and remorse for bringing him back? How could she have allowed herself to weaken again within his embrace?

“Like hell,” she whispered.

“You don’t have a choice.”

From behind, Carreon said, “Take him.”

Chair legs skidded over the polished wood, followed by the smack of shoes as his lieutenants approached.

The young man who’d once mounted Liz reached out to grab Zeke’s shoulder.

As though he didn’t exist, as though none of them did, Zeke kept his full attention on her, not even trying to hide his naked passion and resolve, so male and unashamed. Beneath it, there appeared to be a hint of mercy.

No. That wasn’t possible. She turned her face from his then flinched at a heavy crash in the hall, the sounds of shattering stone and splintering wood.

Snatching back his hand, Carreon’s lieutenant bolted to the doorway.

A barrage of automatic gunfire erupted from the hall.

Liz sucked in a breath. Zeke pulled out of her and scrambled off then grabbed Liz’s arm, hauling her from the bed. Her outraged cry was no more than a strangled croak. Clawing his hand, she fought to release herself.

Zeke yanked her to the doorway. Two of Carreon’s lieutenants lay in puddles of blood, their foreheads and shoulders torn away by bullets. On the other side of the hall, she saw the man who’d once used her so thoroughly. The back of his head was gone, his blood sprayed in a wide arc across the ceiling. Beads of the plasma dripped down, falling on a fern’s feathery leaves, filling the coolish air with its metallic stench.

A wave of nausea rolled over Liz. She should have turned away from the carnage but couldn’t. This man’s hand, like those of his companions, rested on his undrawn gun.

Where was Carreon?

Zeke pulled her from the room.

Pounding his forearm, Liz glanced down the hall. At the end of it, one of the Spanish credenzas lay on its side, its shattered wood having gouged a hole in the pavers. A burst of white light flashed from the left of it, accompanied by the sound of renewed gunfire.

Who was shooting? How had they breached the mansion’s security? Had they killed Carreon? What about her father? Was he—

Her thoughts stalled at Zeke tugging her in the opposite direction, forcing her to follow him.

She resisted, pressing the soles of her feet into the smooth pavers. Zeke jerked her forward. Liz scratched his hand, arm, and shoulder.

“Stop it,” he growled.

“Not until you let go of me.”

He halted so quickly Liz bumped into him. Before she could regain her balance and flee, Zeke bent at the waist and slung herover his shoulder.

Liz’s breath whooshed out on a shocked cry, her arms flailing helplessly, smacking his back.

Zeke hurried down the hall.

“Goddamn you,” she spat. “Put me down.”

He tightened his arm around her.

She pummeled his kidneys.

“Motherfuck,” he roared then brought his palm down on her ass, again and again, as hard as he could.

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