Текст книги "Reap"

Автор книги: Tillie Cole

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

His pectoral muscles, marred with deep scars and ink, pounded heavily as his breathing grew labored. “You,” he rasped. My stomach and thighs clenched. Reaching down, he picked up my hand and laid it flat on his torso. I gasped when he began to steer my palm over his abdominal muscles, his jade eyes blazing with need. “You cleanse me,” he said, his clipped English and heavy Georgian accent growing thicker. “You touch me.”

He pushed my hand ever lower. My breath hitched as my palm ran over the head of his cock. “Zaal,” I moaned as my free hand lifted to rest on his bulging bicep. I was overcome by him, by this inexplicable pull between us.

Zaal’s hand over mine, we placed our joined fingers over his hard length. His jaw clenched and a growl rumbled in his throat. His eyelids grew leaden. I watched in fascination as his long black lashes swept against his high cheeks, his tongue licking along his full bottom lip.

My index finger, free from his hold, ran along the tip, pre-come kissing my skin. Zaal stilled, a deep groan surged from his lips, and before I’d known it, his strong hands had fisted the material of my thin sweater and ripped it in two.

Instantly, my breasts were bared.

Zaal panted as if he couldn’t draw his next breath without touching me. And my tether was strained. I thought of the necklace around my neck, its significance, the memory, the giver of the gift. But I became lost in that trusting sea of jade. The pull of Zaal’s draw, and the truth that I’d never felt this viscerally connected to another person in all my life, well, I tried to push it away … but could not.

Zaal was without restraint, tormented by the primal need to take. To take me. To own me. I could see it in every tense muscle, every protruding vein. He wanted to fuck me.

And, Lord forgive me, I wanted that, too. Damn the consequences, I wanted the man I’d sworn to always hate. I was fired with need.

Leaning to his side, I lifted Zaal’s red scarred wrists, once manacled by shackles and chains. I brought them to my breasts, my hands covering his as I silently urged him to touch.

Long calloused fingers grasped at my flesh. Hot shivers traveled like flares to the apex of my thighs. His touch alone sent me close to the edge. If this flicker of pleasure was a taste of what was to come, I wasn’t sure there would ever be any going back.

For a moment I had to question whether this betrayal with Zaal—against my family—was worth it. I cast my gaze across his identity tattoo, the scars from Lord knows what, and then his face, open, trusting, and handsome. Those beautiful innocent eyes. I sighed deeply, a sense of accepting peace flowing through me. It was worth it. Pure instinct told me he was worth it.

I chose to follow my heart.

Zaal’s face flushed as his hands explored. Meeting his gaze, I couldn’t look away from his hungry face as I snapped the button of my jeans. But Zaal looked down to watch, his hands palming my flesh more and more, his fingers grazing over my erect nipples.

I rolled my jeans down my legs and kicked them to the side of the room. Nerves overwhelmed me, engulfing my skin with hot shivers.

Tension built to a heady storm as our body heat clashed. Zaal’s rough hand still stroked my skin, his fingers tracing south.

I stood only in my black lace thong, a flimsy barrier from being completely bare, completely vulnerable.

My heart drummed.

My thighs clenched.

My pussy pulsed.

And then he moved. He moved until he was flush to my front. Flesh to flesh, sharing space. “Talia…,” he whispered, his warm breath skirting down the side of my neck.

“Zaal…,” I whispered in reply, my eyes closing at his nearness.

Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head. Zaal hissed through his teeth as he glanced down. He towered over me, dwarfed me with his sheer size.

Zaal’s hands smoothed up over my waist, teasing me inch by inch. A low rumble sounded in Zaal’s throat, making my pussy flood with wetness. Then his hands skirted over my breasts, up the sides of my neck, and landed on my cheeks.

We stood there, suspended in the moment; his hands cupping my cheeks, breathing in each other’s air. The pulse in my neck raced, then my eyelashes fluttered in anticipation of what was to come.

Our desperate gazes met.

He took a deep breath.

Then he whispered, “You are … for me?”

And I knew I was done.

Trampled, heart-flattened, done.

You are … for me? Four simple words that smashed through any barrier between us.

“Zaal,” I moaned and, with my hands threading over his broad round shoulders, I lifted to my tiptoes. Zaal’s eyes widened in surprise as I drew in my mouth toward his. His hands, on each side of my face, tightened. His breath slipped through his lips with a nervous exhale.

Eyes remaining open, I brushed my lips over his. Zaal stilled. He panted into my mouth, which hovered in anticipation next to his. Zaal’s warm sweet breath caused my pussy to ache with need.

I expected Zaal to crush his lips to mine. That a man of his size, with such a primal persona, to overpower me, to control me, to dominate me. But he stayed still, body tensed. I pulled back slightly, only to see his eyebrows drawn. His pupils were dilated, the whites of his eyes shining brightly. His nostrils flared. The three moles to the left of his cheek had me entranced as they twitched with nerves.

Then it hit me—Zaal didn’t know why my lips were touching his.

I sighed. The heat of realization melted in my chest. He’d never been kissed.

Zaal’s hands were cupping my cheeks like his grip was the only thing keeping him grounded. Keeping him from falling.

Smoothing my hands up the sides of his thick neck, I threaded them through his now-soft ebony hair and lay them on his cheeks. Zaal’s eyelids lowered, his anxious eyes fluttering to relax at my touch.

“Zaal?” I whispered. His eyes bolted open, that jade green stare catching mine. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Frown lines laced his forehead. His cheek twitched. “I … I don’t understand. You speak … differently from what I know.”

English, I thought. He struggled with understanding English.

Zaal’s face searched mine. He was Georgian. I didn’t speak Georgian, but most Georgian Mafia knew Russian. I prayed he did, too.

“Potzeluy,” I offered. Zaal froze, his gaze drifting above my head. His expression was one of deep concentration, as though he was trying to remember how he knew the word. “Do you know the word?” I pushed.

His head dropped and he nodded. “I think … I think…” His head lifted and he pulled me to his lips with his hands still on my face. My heart fired off beats like a cannon in battle. His lips moved until they hovered next to mine. “They, our lips meet. They meld.” A crease between his eyebrows formed. He asked, “How? How do I know this?”

I swallowed as his panicked eyes searched mine for an answer. Before I could reply, his face paled. His hands shook against my cheeks. Zaal’s eyes squeezed shut. His lips parted. “I think … I think someone used to kiss me … before I belonged to Master?” Sweat beaded on Zaal’s forehead. My stomach fractured at the lost look on his face. “Tal … Talia … who would have done that?”

I didn’t know what to do. Did I tell him the truth or did I soothe him? I chose the latter. He was shaking, flustered. I wanted to make him feel safe.

“Shh…” I hushed, then moved my mouth to caress his lips and pleaded, “Potzeluy menya.”

Kiss me.

Zaal tensed. He whispered, “I will try.”

In seconds my lips melded to Zaal’s. A long moan resonated in my mouth. I used the grip on his cheeks to pull him closer.

A deep hum sounded in Zaal’s chest. Wasting no time, I pushed my tongue into his mouth, his taste bursting onto my tongue. For a moment, Zaal’s palms slipped from my cheeks, the deepness of the kiss catching him off guard.

I kept going. I took from this primitive man what I wanted, what I needed. At first, the kiss was clumsy, as his innocent tongue tentatively met mine. I became breathless the more our tongues dueled. Zaal became more confident. His grip tightened and he pulled me to his hard chest, the impact knocking precious air from my lungs.

I pulled back, gasping for oxygen. But Zaal stayed close, his pupils wide, dark, and love drunk. I panted, still at the edge of his swelling mouth. His lips were red and flushed. I flicked my tongue out and ran it along the seam of his bottom lip. Was it possible? Zaal’s hard cock seemed to swell even more; its length pressing hard against my stomach. I cried a breathy moan and captured his bottom lip between my teeth, before releasing it and staring into his eyes.

Zaal froze. Completely froze; causing my body to follow suit.

His green eyes blazed and his hands dropped. With a sudden, almost deafening snarl, his large hands yanked at my panties, ripping the black lace thong in two.

The chill in the air beaded my nipples and washed over my clit. Zaal stepped back. His stormy gaze dropped to between my legs. His hand gripped his cock.

Beads of sweat dropped down onto his damp chest. And those eyes, they roved, they devoured my naked body. They shone bright, flaring with need. As I watched his scarred tattooed hand stroke his long cock, my thighs grew slick with wetness.

Zaal growled low as my hand lifted, then skirted down my stomach. My heart raced as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Then I reached the top of my pussy. Zaal’s hard breathing seized as my fingers crept lower, down to run along my folds.

And he broke.

Whatever control Zaal had, snapped. He plowed forward.

With a shocked gasp, Zaal took me in his powerful arms and crushed his mouth to mine. The grunts and groans pouring from his mouth caused me to claw and rip at his back. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Zaal’s cock met my pussy, its length dragging along my folds, scraping against my already-swollen clit.

Tipping my head back, I cried out. Hands losing purchase on his burning skin, I raked his hair. My fingers wrapped around the long strands and I ground against his length.

Zaal’s mouth broke away from mine, a loud roar sounding in my ears. Suddenly, Zaal’s knees dropped to the floor, his firm grip not releasing me as he took me down also.

The head of his cock probed at my entrance and I cried out against his neck. Zaal groaned. Hands holding my waist, he flipped me onto all fours, his huge body closing in behind me.

I called out in shock, but lost all rational thought when his head lowered and his wet tongue swiped my pussy, licking over my folds, to finally land on my clit. He was relentless in stroking, probing, and sucking.

I could barely see, my skin shivering as he assaulted my clit, sucking and swirling his tongue. My juices flooded into his mouth. When his tongue stiffened and plunged into my hole, a white light blistered behind my eyes as I broke apart. I came so hard my arms gave way and my forehead touched the carpet.

I came, wave after wave cresting and stealing my breath. But Zaal never stopped, savoring every ounce of pleasure I could give. He lapped at my wetness, his strong hands spreading my pussy to reach every last drop.

I fought for breath, trembling on the ground, when I suddenly felt Zaal behind me. I felt his wide hard cock brace at my entrance, his rough fingers grasping my hips.

Desperately needing to see him, I turned my head. My heart missed a beat at the sight. Zaal, every muscle in his huge body protruding and strained, stared at my pussy. His face was primitive, tense with need, flushed with need. His teeth were gritted and a look of intense desire took hold in his eyes.

Then, as if sensing my stare, he glanced up, and that look he was wearing so strongly ebbed away, only to leave adoration in his beautiful expression.

“Zaal…,” I whispered as his hands flexed on my skin. His jaw clenched, and releasing one hand, he guided his cock to my entrance. I thanked the lord I was on the birth control shot. I wanted Zaal raw. I wanted him flesh to my flesh.

I never moved my gaze from his. He never moved his from mine. But as the head of his length pushed into my hole, my wet warmth engulfing him, his traps and neck corded as he slammed himself inside me.

I screamed out as he roared, the joined sounds of our sex echoing off the bedroom’s walls. And then he began thrusting. Hard, rough, and fierce. Zaal’s untamed hair hung over his face, masking the wild expression on his features. He looked every inch the unpolished savage I’d believed him to be.

Zaal’s cock pounded into me. The sound of his slapping hips against my ass made my clit throb more and more. His cock stroked against the spot that was always out of my reach, pleasured shivers shooting up my spine.

I was so close to exploding, but as I looked into Zaal’s face, his eyes now closed, lost in our moment of pleasure, I knew I didn’t want to be on my knees. I didn’t want him braced behind. I wanted to see those jade eyes. The very eyes that had triggered my obsession with a Kostava. I wanted to feel his powerful body thrust on top of me. I wanted him nursed between my open thighs.

Fighting the building pleasure taking hold, I murmured, “Zaal…” But he was lost in a haze of pleasure. Lost as he fucked me, owned me, possessed me.

Zaal ripped a roar from his mouth as my core squeezed hard, choking his length. Lifting on my weakened hands, I forced myself forward, Zaal falling out from within me.

His eyes snapped open as I rolled onto my back. His face screamed predatory danger; pupils dilated and teeth gritted in frustration. He reached down to my waist to flip me back on all fours. I held up my hand.

Panting, searching for air, I shook my head vigorously, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Stop … Zaal … please…,” I breathlessly begged. He stilled.

“I need … I need … you…,” he fought to say, his English pronunciation nearly unintelligible as he fought to remain calm.

I stared at his rolling muscles, sweat dripping on his olive skin and that huge cock, rigid against his stomach.

“Take me like this,” I said through broken breaths. Zaal’s cheek twitched. His forehead creased in confusion.

I slowly lay down on my back, spread my legs, and held out my arms. Zaal’s gaze ran over my begging body, lingering on my wet, open center. My breasts ached at the thought of him back inside me. I needed to feel him fill me. I needed him to own me.

Then a wash of insecurity filled Zaal’s face. A thought suddenly struck me: he’d never taken anyone like this before. The Jakhuas truly did treat him like an animal, only letting him fuck from behind.

“I don’t understand?” Zaal’s guttural and desperate voice confided.

My heart dropped at the apprehension spreading across his face, as he clenched his fists by his side.

“Come here,” I prompted, coaxing him to come closer with my fingers. Zaal, breathing too fast, bent on all fours and, with the power only a predator could possess, crawled slowly over my awaiting body.

He stared down at me, the ends of his long hair tickling my breasts. He stared into my eyes, waiting for further instruction.

I pressed my hand against his face. His cheek nuzzled against my touch. “Take me like this,” I whispered. His eyes widened. I smiled, and heard a hiss pass through his clenched teeth. “Take me as you look into my eyes, with your skin brushing against mine.” Zaal hung on my every word as I guided his oversize chest down over my breasts. I whispered into his ear, “Come in me, like this.”

A growl built in his throat as he lowered himself down. His thighs lay in between mine. Skirting my hand down between our bodies, I palmed his cock, slick with my wetness. Zaal groaned, his mouth dropping open at the feel. Placing his rigid cock at my entrance, I pushed the head inside and said, “Take me.”

Zaal’s eyes met mine as he thrust forward and filled me to the hilt. Zaal’s strong arms braced on either side of my head, but as he rocked back and forth, I noticed he wasn’t as rough, he was filling me, taking me, but he was feeling me, slowly and deliberately owning me.

Zaal’s eyes watched my mouth as I licked along my lips. His breathing hitched at the sight. Guiding my hands up his taut arms, Zaal lowered to thread his arms under my shoulders. I gasped as his hard chest pressed against mine.

This close, I could make out every line of his handsome face, the three moles to the left of his eye humanizing this man. Zaal stared at my lips and his thrusts paused.

We lay here breathing each other in, joined in the most primitive way. I smoothed back his long black hair from his face, and felt a fissure in my heart. This, right now, in this very moment, something soul-shattering passed between us. He’d come into my life like a storm. A storm I didn’t want, one I’d prepared all my life to hate, to fight. But it brought with it refreshing rain. It cleared the skies and brought out only warmth.

Zaal was saving me, liberating me from loneliness.

My throat was chock-full with emotion as I lay here, staring into his eyes. Then Zaal took a long breath, traced his nose along my cheek and whispered, “Potzeluy.”

Kiss.

Feeling my body fill with warmth, I cast Zaal a watery smile and guided his mouth to mine. His long hair cocooned us, protecting us in our own space. His full lips were like butterfly wings, whispering against my lips. This was in stark contrast to the animalistic rage and primal presence he exuded.

But when his tongue pushed through to my mouth, my tongue tentatively meeting his, Zaal’s hips moved, his length pushing harder into me.

We kissed. He thrust. My hands explored. My palms met hot skin: his shoulders, his waist, and his back. With every sensation of my touch, Zaal’s pace increased. His lower abdomen dragged over my clit. Crying out, such sensitivity almost too much to stand, my hands gripped on to his ass. Zaal roared into my mouth.

He devoured me with his mouth.

He dominated me with his strength.

But my heart, my heart was giving itself to him. With every thrust he made inside me, another piece of my heart broke and melded into his.

Zaal’s hips moved faster and faster, his movements jerky and erratic. Pressure built in my spine. I almost came undone as Zaal’s moist lips dragged across my cheek, peppering me with kisses and swipes of his tongue. He traveled to my neck and I cried out as his damp chest grazed against my hard nipples.

“Zaal,” I moaned, my voice hitching.

“Talia,” he grunted back. My fingers kneaded his ass, driving him even further into me.

I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the desire surging through my veins, the want and need for this man lit me up from the inside. Zaal’s skin brushed against my clit; pounding, circling, teasing. I dug my nails in, bit down on Zaal’s shoulder, and burst apart, as the most intense orgasm of my life tore through my core.

I came, coating Zaal’s cock. The walls of my pussy clenching, I gripped Zaal’s dick until he began to snarl. The sounds pouring from his mouth were vicious and raw, but everything told me how he felt—that he was feeling the same magnetic draw as me.

Zaal’s unrelenting hips suddenly stilled. His head whipped back, neck corded. He thundered as he came, his cum bathing my pussy with warmth. It was enough to take me over again, but my attention was fixed on Zaal’s face … on the pure pleasure our joining had brought to him.

As the last of Zaal’s thrusts jerked into me, he dropped his forehead to my shoulder. I ran gentle fingers down his spine. My eyes were closed as he shrouded me with his warmth. Then it was just us.

Joined.

Replete.

Melded.

As we lay in each other’s arms, a tear slipped from the corner of my eye. The betrayal to my family was complete; realized and profound. But so were my feelings for Zaal.

Weeks of watching him pace back and forth in the basement, held captive in chains, gave birth to my obsession. Watching him leech whatever drug they’d pumped in his veins, as he lay—broken—on the floor, had given birth to my compassion. Watching him slumped against the wall, shackled, with lost and lonely eyes, gave birth to my affection. But lying here, taken and warm in his arms; well, that had opened my heart.

Zaal was in my whole heart.

The hammering of his strong pulse began to slow. His soft breaths on my neck evened out. My hands continued to trace the ridges of his spine. Then Zaal lifted his head.

My eyes met his, and my heart cracked.

Tears filled his eyes, a disbelieving expression possessed his face. “Zaal?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

Two tears fell over his cheeks and trickled down his olive skin, then down onto my chest, rolling over his identity ink. My heart constricted at this devastating sight, then completely shattered when he sucked in a stuttered breath and asked, “I … I am truly free?”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held him tight due to the look of utter disbelief on his face.

“Yes,” I assured, and nuzzled into his neck. “You’re free, Zaal. That man can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe. You’re free. There’s no more pain.”

His arms around my back tightened as I spoke those words. His breathing was heavy and I could feel the water from his eyes dropping into my hair. “Shh…” I soothed, stroking my hands through his hair.

Zaal stayed like that for minutes, still buried inside me. Eventually he lifted his head. I swallowed at the way he stared at me like … like I was his everything. “Because … of you?” he asked.

I held my breath.

“What?” I whispered.

“Free … because of you?”

I pressed my hand to his face. “No. My brother freed you. I was already at the house when you were brought here.” I glanced down. Redness filled my cheeks. “I watched you in the basement. After weeks spent watching from afar, I … I finally had to see you in person.”

Zaal’s frown was prominent as he mulled over what I’d divulged. I stroked my finger along his cheek. “Do you remember anything about the night you were freed?”

Zaal’s face contorted as if he was in pain. His hold on me tightened. “I … I remember pain, rage. I remember the chains and wanting to kill. Then venom and pain leaving my body. Then weakness, confusion.” His top lip hooked into a flicker of a smile, and he added, “Then you.” He exhaled through his nose. “Your small hand on my skin.”

Zaal’s panicked eyes fixed on me. “Why did your brother free me?”

My body froze at his question. Zaal’s tense jade irises implored me to answer. But I didn’t know what to say. He was still weak, still recovering. I wasn’t sure he should hear about his twin brother, his family, the experiments he’d been forced to endure, from my mouth.

Distracting Zaal from his question, I bent his head and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Shh. Let’s get some rest. All will be explained in good time.”

Zaal’s tense body relaxed with a relieving exhale. I palmed his cheeks. “Shall we go to bed?”

Zaal’s face expressed confusion again. He looked around us. “We are already on the floor.” I frowned at his strange reply, then my stomach sank. We are already on the floor.…

God, I thought. My stomach turned over. He’d never slept in a bed. It was why he took me on the floor. He didn’t know any better.

“Zaal.” I spoke with authority to command his full attention. “You’re free now. And you’ll sleep in my bed, with me.”

His face showed no understanding, so I pushed slightly on his arms. “Stand, and I’ll show you,” I directed, but Zaal didn’t move. “Zaal?” I pushed harder, but he still didn’t move.

“You will stay with me?” he asked. I caught a tinge of panic in his voice.

My heart bloomed, and I rolled my head to kiss his arm. “I won’t leave your side,” I assured.

Zaal’s green eyes shone, but he pulled back, his length slipping from within me. I moaned at the sudden feeling of loss.

But suddenly I gasped. My head lifted to stare at Zaal. His fingers were running over my clit and further down. I jerked, still too sensitive, when two of Zaal’s fingers pushed within me. I was rooted to the floor. When, unexpectedly, he pulled out his fingers and promptly sat back on his heels.

I was so turned on I could barely think straight.

Gathering my wits, I shakily got to my feet. Zaal was still on the ground, his eyes watching me like a hawk. I moved toward him and held out my hand. He took it without hesitation. Rising slowly to his feet, Zaal’s six foot six height eclipsed the fading sunlight streaming through the blinds at my window.

Walking behind him, I ran my hand over my bed. “We sleep in here.” Zaal’s assessing stare narrowed when it met the comforter.

Releasing his hand, I walked around him. Then he lightly grabbed my wrist. “Where do you go?” His voice betrayed an edge of panic, so I stroked my finger along his forearm. I blushed as I stated, “I’m going to cleanse myself.”

He looked down my body, clearly wondering why. Then he fixed his gaze on my pussy and his cum coating my thighs. His face turned stormy. He pulled me back, wrapping me tightly in his embrace. “No,” he ordered aggressively. “You stay with me, like this.”

My pulse raced, blood coursing through my body. The way he dominated, he owned, he possessed inflamed my already tingling skin. A finger lifted my chin. I found myself falling into his deep green gaze. “Do not cleanse,” he said in his strong Georgian accent.

“I won’t cleanse,” I assured in reply. His hold on me relaxed.

Leaning over Zaal, I pulled back the comforter and climbed into bed. Zaal was standing beside the bed, looking down. I tapped the mattress and said, “Climb in, Zaal. Rest with me.”

It took a few seconds, but Zaal did climb into the bed next to me. Immediately he held me in his arms. I inhaled the musk of his warm skin and turned to look him in the eyes.

As we stared at each other, somehow I felt different. This man, and what we’d just experienced, had changed me. He was changing me. A small smile spread on my lips as I caught sight of those beautiful three moles on the side of his face.

Zaal drew in a breath. Inching closer, he whispered, “Potzeluy.” I closed my eyes.

Without hesitation, I pressed my mouth against his. It was soft, it was tender. I felt like my prayer had been answered.

As I pulled away, Zaal’s fingers stroked over my hair. Adopting a serious expression, he repeated quietly, “You are … for me?”

Ignoring everything but Zaal and I, our magnetic attraction, and what we’d just shared, I tipped my forehead to meet his, whispering, “Yes, Zaal … I think I am … for you.”