Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)(62)

He squeezes my ass cheeks, a growl rumbling through his chest. “I have no doubt that we will.”

Zeek kisses along my jaw, gripping my thighs roughly. We stumble into a wall and onto an end table. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tight body. I can’t help but run my hands over it, so soft and hard at the same time. Each muscle is perfectly outlined and beading with sweat.

He picks me up again, only making it a couple of steps before he plows us into my computer chair, and I fall onto the desk.

Zeek kicks the chair out of the way and places both hands on either side of me. His eyes are hooded, lips parted.

His eyes fall from mine, landing on something next to my hip. Following his line of sight, I find my duty belt.

He grabs it, taking out both pairs of my cuffs.

“Oh, no, you don’t! My voice rises, my heart racing.

He grins, boyish dimples appearing.

He turns me, grabbing my wrist. “Lie flat,” he orders.

“I don’t know about this,” I state, my heart beating hard. Last time I let him cuff me, he left.

He bites his bottom lip. “Trust me.”

Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and lower myself onto the desk, my back flush with the top. I don’t know why I trust him, but I do. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me, like he’d burn this town to the ground before he’d let someone even look at me longer than he’d like.

“Good girl,” he whispers, unbuttoning his jeans. He cuffs one wrist to a leg of the table, my arm arching over the side. Walking along the other side, he does the same thing to the other hand.

Running his hand along my stomach and hips, he makes a hissing sound between his teeth.

“Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful.” His voice comes out gravelly and strained as he wrestles my pants from my legs.

I try to lift my head to look at him, to see his tanned gorgeous body, but restraints keep me from lifting all the way up.

Using his knee, he pushes himself onto the desk and hooks his fingers along the corners of my panties, slowly pulling them off. The fabric tickles my legs as they slide downward. My breathing quickens, anticipation killing me.

Climbing over me, he presses his hand right next to my head, his face an inch from mine. God, he’s so dangerously sexy. Crazy beautiful.

His eyes narrow, his face serious. “You’re mine, Jillian. There’s no going back. You had your chance to tell me no, but that chance is gone now.” I swallow hard as his finger trails along my clit, my body bucking in reaction.

“Do you understand? Do you understand that you’re mine now?” His words are dead serious, his tone not asking, but telling.

My eyes meet his deep brown ones, which are serious and primal, telling me I will never escape him.

The things I feel for this man are dangerous on so many levels, scary beyond anything I can comprehend.

But beyond it all, I want to be his.

I want to be his obsession.

He’s dangerous and f*cking sexy, and I want him all to myself.

“I understand. Just promise me you’ll never hurt me. That if you get bored with me, you’ll let me go with some respect,” I state, my words coming out breathy.

His brows furrow. “You’re not going anywhere.” Leaning down, he kisses me so hard I feel my lips may bruise. That’s when I know without a doubt I won’t walk away from this without being completely broken. But I’d rather take that chance than not be here now with him. To feel his hard body on top of mine, to see his eyes light up when he looks at me, and the rough touch of his hands on my skin.

Pulling away, he nips at my jaw, trailing down my neck and collarbone. I lift a hand to grab at his back but the cuffs bite against my wrist, reminding me of my bindings.

He trails along my bra and down my stomach, biting at my navel. A cool breeze blows against my clit, and I clench my eyes shut, the pleasure too intense.

A warm tongue laves at my wetness and a small moan escapes my lips. The stubble on his cheeks rubs against my thighs, causing the skin to burn. He continues to lick, suck, and nip at my clit and *, my body writhing and tensing as it’s wound into a ball of pleasure and tingles.

My toes curl along the edge of the desk, and a soft cry catches in my throat.

Zeek pulls away, my body cooling instantly.

“Why’d you stop?” I pant.

Leaning over, his hands undo my left handcuff before doing the same to the right.

“I need inside of you.” His voice comes out tremulous. “Bed,” he pants. Scooping me off the desk, I spot all my paperwork, lamp, and cuffs on the floor.

“Yes. Bed,” I agree, fisting his dark hair into my fingers.

“When I’m done with you, when I feel like I’ll actually be satisfied, that tight little * of yours is going to be ruined. I’m going to tear it up, because I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of f*cking you, and I plan on doing it as much as possible.”





FIFTEEN





ZEEK


I can’t sleep. I just keep watching Jillian. The way the sheet is tangled around her soft skin, the way her lips part as she’s asleep. She’s someone I surely don’t deserve. I put up a barrier long ago, locking anything that might make me weak in a cage. Anything human, I should say—feelings, affection, hope. I was an animal; the only thing I focused on was f*cking, eating, and killing. It was safer that way. But Jillian, she pushed through the bars of my cage, taming me into someone who has compassion, into something humane. She made me feel. I don’t like it; it’s unnatural.