“Slow and easy,” he demanded, holding her still as she tried to push back, to take him with one of those quick, hard thrusts she knew would push her over the edge instantly. “Let me feel you, baby. Feel your sweet pussy milking me right in.”
A cry escaped her lips, her breath locking in her throat for a second as she felt him pressing inside her.
Pleasure-pain erupted through the tender flesh, wrapped around her clit, and sent furious pulses of building hunger through the responsive depths.
The pleasure was so sharp and sweet she couldn’t imagine never knowing it again as the fiery burn of the penetration attacked tissue unused to possession before him.
Slow and easy, just as he’d threatened. Kenni’s back arched, her vagina clenching violently as she felt her juices spilling with rapid pulses to each fiery stretch of her flesh.
Jazz eased inside her, groaning as she tightened around each inch that burrowed through her flesh. His hips shifted, moved, pushing him deeper. His fingers flexed at her hip, tightened, holding her in place.
Desperate cries spilled from her lips with each hard stroke of his cock inside her, impaling her with a mix of pleasure and pain she found intoxicating. Then he eased back, slow, easy, teasing her with the retreat. Only to return, working her tender flesh open again, penetrating it with a fiery heat that burned through her senses.
She couldn’t bear the pleasure. It tore at her, drove her higher on waves of building heat and shattering ecstasy.
“Hold on, baby,” he groaned. “Ah hell, Kenni. You destroy me.”
The next thrust drove him deeper, harder inside her.
The sudden impalement, a shock to her senses, tore a cry from her lips and the control she’d been holding on to so desperately slipped out of her grip.
She needed him.
All of him.
Kenni whimpered with the loss when he retreated fully once again, but with his return she was waiting for him. Pushing back, taking him deeper, her inner muscles clenched and rippled around him. Tremors of building ecstasy worked up her spine, shuddered through her body. A band of tension began tightening through her womb, lashing at her clit and pushing her closer to the flames waiting to explode around her.
Jazz came over her, the heat and power that was so much a part of him surrounding her. One arm locked around her hips, holding her to him as he began thrusting inside her with a speed that drove her to the breaking point with a suddenness she wasn’t expecting.
Explosions detonated through her senses, waves upon waves of such ecstasy they stole her breath, her reason, and what remained of her woman’s spirit.
Muscles clenched, locked in place. As she shuddered beneath him, each successive detonation was more intense, driving through her. Behind her, Jazz thrust to the hilt, tensing, a groan tearing through him before spilling his release in furious, throbbing spurts that extended and deepened the orgasm rushing through her. Ecstasy raged through her senses, in waves that seemed never ending until she collapsed against the couch beneath him, exhausted.
Above her, Jazz’s breathing was labored, the release he’d found coming only moments after hers. She remembered, distantly, the feel of his flesh throbbing harder, buried to the hilt as he groaned above her. But he hadn’t spilled inside her as he had before.
He’d donned a condom.
Were those tears behind her eyes, threatening to spill? Tightening her throat, she swallowed against them. And why should that bother her anyway?
Before she could let that thought break the fragile control she had over her pain, she was aware of Jazz slowly easing from her, his breathing ragged as he collapsed beside her and drew her to his chest.
And where did they go from here? she wondered.
“Don’t run like that again, Kenni,” he warned her softly, pushing the remnants of pleasure from her senses with the order.
“Or what?” Pushing away from him she sat up, found her clothes lying on the floor, and picked them up wearily.
“You don’t want to know or what. The next time I won’t be nearly as understanding, count on that.” The promise was delivered in a tone that had her swallowing tightly, wariness edging at her senses.
It was a wariness she ignored. She’d gone too far, had walked too close to the darkness to survive.
“I didn’t turn into a china doll overnight and I won’t pretend to be one so you can play the white knight,” she informed him with a bite of anger.
Rising, she drew her clothes on quickly. She felt too vulnerable, too exposed to him now. The lack of clothing as he sprawled just as naked on the couch next to her had her too eager to submit to whatever he wanted.
Submission had never been her thing.
“So I can play the white knight? Where the hell do you come up with these ideas? I never claimed to be a white knight, or to want to be one,” he grunted at the accusation, rising and jerking his clothes from the floor.
She could feel his eyes on her as he dressed as well. Glowering and intense, he wasn’t about to let the subject go and she knew it. And she didn’t think her emotions could deal with it.
She felt too close to an edge she didn’t understand or recognize. An edge where far too many emotions were teetering.
Dressed, she gathered up the leather pack she’d dropped to the floor and forced herself to leave the living room. Striding across the entry and television room to the kitchen, she was very well aware of Jazz following her.
The second she entered the puppies’ territory Squirrel broke away from the others, bounding to her with a cheerful yip and bouncing around her in a bid to convince her to play with him.
Opening the gate, she gave Squirrel a gentle pet before shooing him over to his mother. Closing the gate behind her, Kenni ignored the fact that Jazz had paused at the entrance to the television room. He stopped there, silent, his arms crossed over his chest in an arrogant, demanding stance.
She set down the leather pack she’d collected along with her laptop from beneath the bed, opened the flap securing it, and began pulling free surveillance pictures she’d taken over the years as well as pictures taken in Loudoun after her arrival that matched up to the Kin she’d photographed over the years.
“I need the DVR Zack collected,” she told him as she felt him moving closer. “Will he be here soon?”
She didn’t hear him, but she could feel the tension behind her increasing, indicating he had finally followed her.
“He’ll have it here soon,” he growled, and it was an irritable sound.
She knew what they were doing. Slade and Zack, overbearing and arrogant, would of course try to go through it first to see if they could identify who had broken into the house.
Good luck to them. She doubted they were going to get past the encryption program Gunny had created for their security.
“It won’t do him any good to check it first,” she informed him, still fighting the languor that wanted to overtake her after the incredible pleasure he’d given her. “The encryption program is on my laptop and without the program, cracking it will take him far longer than simply bringing it over here would.”
Gunny had made certain she learned the surveillance program and its encryption. The DVR, laptop, and cameras worked together. Having the DVR was useless without the laptop and its program to decrypt it.
“Have all the bases covered, don’t you, Kenni?” he asked a little too gently. “Hidden clothes and weapons, encrypted cameras and DVRs. Yet you still have no idea who’s trying to kill you. Why’s that?”
She’d known he was going to be pissed and she’d known hard questions would come with her actions. She’d known it like she knew a bee sting stung; she just hadn’t allowed herself to think about it.
“Survival. I was more concerned with hiding for a while longer, I guess,” she finally answered him, trying to contain the emotions her brothers’ presence had tempted free. “If Cord hadn’t gotten so nosy, then I’d still be hiding.”