He would never have trusted her in the hands of anyone else. He wasn’t exactly like Ice, who enjoyed a bit of exhibitionism, or Storm, who preferred to be a voyeur. They’d been taught that from the time they were little. Encouraged in it. His training had taken a different turn. He hadn’t realized until he was with Breezy that it had stuck with him in the way Ice’s and Storm’s trainings had stuck with them.
He needed to look at her face in the throes of ecstasy. He needed to see her in every position he demanded, giving him that. Giving him whatever he asked her for. It was all about proving she was his. He knew that. He also knew it was completely fucked up. Still, right now, he gave into his needs. He hoped in fulfilling his own, he was meeting hers. He hadn’t taken the time to find out before; now he needed to know. She had to get off on it, not just want to please him.
Her hands went to his neck and she held him to her. He was rough because that was his way, but one hand slid between her legs to feel her response when he pulled his head back to look up at her. “You like the idea of pictures for us, baby? My cock in your mouth? Inside you? Taking you in every way I can? You like the idea of that?” He kept his eyes on hers, refusing to allow her to look away. “We can look at them together anytime we want.”
A fresh flood of liquid heat coated his fingers. She nodded slowly. “Mostly, I like the idea that I don’t know someone’s taking the photographs so any time it could be happening.”
He leaned into her breast, caught her nipple with his teeth and tugged, watching her face the entire time. The gasp. Her breath exploding as another rush of cream found his fingers. “Get on your knees, Breezy. I’ve waited three long years to feel your mouth on me again.”
She slid her hands down his chest and leaned in to kiss him. That fire was there. Instant. Hot. She gave him everything without hesitation. Then she lifted her head. “Those photographs are ours alone.”
It was both a statement and a question. Hell yeah, the pictures were just for them. He nodded. “I’ll make sure no one else ever sees them.” His heart hurt, it pounded so hard with exultation he could barely breathe.
Breezy slowly sank to her knees between his thighs. His fist was already surrounding his cock. He felt like titanium. So hard. It was perfection. Her lashes fluttered and then a sea of green was looking up at him. Waiting. Hungry. He wanted that look on her face recorded for him for all time. A shudder went through his body. Hot blood rushed through his veins. An electric pulse slid down his spine. He held them both there, stretching the moment out, drinking in her look.
“You want this, baby? You want my cock?”
“You know I do.”
“It’s been a long time, Bree. I’ll try to be gentle, but with you, control goes right out the window. I start out feeding you and giving you what you want and then it’s all about me.”
“I get off when it’s all about you,” she reminded.
That was the fucking truth. With Breezy, it had always been all about Steele, because he was a selfish bastard and he took everything she gave him and more. The worst of it was, he would always need her to be all about him. That was never going to go away for him. He needed her adoration as much as he needed air to breathe. He didn’t deserve it, but he’d try. For her, he’d try.
“You tell me when you want or need something, baby. I might not notice . . .”
She threw her head back, exposing the clean line of her throat. “You’ll always notice, honey. You see everything.”
He did, but now he vowed to double his efforts to watch closely. To make certain she never had to do one fucking thing she didn’t want to do. He knew her favorite color, not because she’d told him but because he’d observed. He knew what kind of towels she liked, and the house was stocked with them. He’d gotten everything with Breezy in mind. And she wasn’t going to do the cleaning. Not ever again. Not in their house and not in the clubhouse.
He noticed everything about her, that was the truth. She didn’t like loud noises, the kind that startled her. She liked to be aware of anything coming at her. He’d chosen the house because he knew he was going to find her. He had Code on it already, but once his club was settled, he had planned on getting on his bike and tracking her down. The house, with its wide-open spaces, high ceilings and state-of-the-art security system, was just for her.
Every stick of furniture had been chosen with her in mind. The dishes and cutlery. He knew what she liked almost better than she did. His woman didn’t know how to be pampered—not the way she deserved—and that was about to change. Looking down into her upturned face, his heart nearly exploded.
He’d always faced reality and the many flaws he had, but he’d learned even more about himself in the time she was gone. He had always thought himself strong, a rock the others could lean on, but without Breezy, he was crumbling inside. Breezy. So young and so mature. So willing to give others whatever it was they needed. Who protected her? She’d been out there on her own without any protection, and that was on him. On his shoulders. He should have found a different way.
He’d panicked once he’d learned her age—and once he’d known he was really in love with her. He didn’t know the first thing about a relationship, and other than Savage and Reaper, he figured he was the most fucked-up human being in the world. He’d said terrible things—things he could never take back.
He wanted to kiss her, but kissing would break the spell he’d woven for her. That mesmerizing sexual web he’d caught her in.
“Stop holding out on me,” she whispered, the smile fading. “I’ve waited as many years as you for this. It makes me hot, but I’m going to have a heart attack if you don’t let me have what I want.”
“Try asking nice.” That was another thing he got off on. He liked to hear her say over and over to him that she wanted him. Or needed him. He liked her to ask him. Beg him. Plead with him. Breezy, being Breezy, only took so much and then she made her own demands.
“I need your cock in my mouth, Steele.” She wasn’t being a parrot. She wasn’t snowing him. She meant it. She loved sucking him off, blowing him big. She enjoyed it and she had made an art of it. “Please, honey.”
“What do you like most?”
“The way you taste. The way your cock stretches my lips and fills my mouth. The heat of it too. The way your face looks when I swallow you down. I love that look on your face.”
Just the matter-of-fact way she stated what she liked made his blood rush hotter. He loved the look on her. Greed. Hunger. Adoration. His fist continued the slide, but it wasn’t so slow now. He could get off just talking about her blowing him. It was a far cry from the desperation he’d tried with other women.
“I don’t know. I might just jack off and coat your breasts. I like the way I drip down your body. You could lie out in the sun and see if it helps you tan, although I love all this smooth, white skin.” He ran one finger from her collarbone over the swell of her breast to the nipple. He flicked that tight little bud experimentally.
“Steele.”
There it was, that note that told him in a minute the balance of power would shift from him to her, although, truthfully, she always had it. She just didn’t know.
He caught the back of her head in his palm. “Open your mouth.”
She did instantly, and he gave her the crown. Her mouth was hot and wet. She closed her lips tightly around him and used her tongue to stroke and caress. She found every spot he liked as if she had his cock memorized, and knowing Breezy, she probably did. She sucked hard, taking him deeper, and he fed her, one thick inch at a time.
He had to force himself to go slow. There was no way to hold the memory of just how good her mouth felt surrounding him. Just how strong her suction was, or the way her tongue danced and stroked. It was paradise. He let her get used to his girth and length again, let her set the pace, take her time, even when he thought the top of his head might come off when her
mouth took him deeper.
Hot. Wet. Tight. She took him deeper and deeper, and then he couldn’t stand it. He caught that messy knot, yanking back as he surged to his feet. Her head tilted far back, giving his cock the opportunity it was now demanding. Her gaze jumped to his, widening a little with shock at his unexpected move.
He wanted that look recorded as well. That total surrender to him. She made his pleasure hers. He moved his hips, thrusting deeper, feeling the momentary resistance and then she was taking him down. Strangling him. Her eyes watered but she didn’t pull away. It took effort to pull back and give her air. Three long years he’d been away from her. Away from paradise.
She had practiced for him. No one could just naturally take a cock like she did, but she’d put time into learning how to please him. She was good at controlling the muscles in her throat and her gag reflex. Her tongue was a weapon of pure pleasure.
Even more, just the visual was stimulating to him. Breezy on her knees looking up at him with her neck exposed so he could see his cock disappearing into her mouth and her throat expanding as she took him deep. It was an extremely erotic visual and made him that much harder, if it were possible.
She was so tight around that sweet spot, constricting there, just under his crown, the sensation intense, her muscles massaging, and her mouth working him hard. He held himself there as long as possible, his eyes on hers, on the sight of her holding out for him as long as she could. Nearly choking on him, but still holding. Unable to breathe yet, for him, holding.
The flat of her tongue together with the heat of her mouth nearly destroyed him. Then there was the way she suckled, as if she were desperate for what he could give her. He knew there was no way to prolong the ecstasy, not when it was that good, but he tried. She didn’t use her hands to try to control his movements or how deep he went. She let him have complete control.
His hips found a fierce rhythm. His cock went deep. Her eyes were pure liquid, like a deep emerald sea. His balls drew up. Tight. Boiling. He dragged her head back farther and plunged. Air left his lungs in a rush. His blood felt on fire. He looked up at the window above the patio, the one overlooking the conversation area, and sent up a silent prayer that the camera was picking up every detail.
“Swallow me, all of me,” he demanded, his voice guttural. He could barely see straight.
Then he was gone, the explosion hot and violent, pouring into her. His fist tightened in her hair, keeping her head back. His eyes were mere slits, watching her, needing this from her. She was Breezy, so she did what he asked, although he could see it wasn’t easy because he had a lifetime stored up for her. He liked that it wasn’t easy, and she still took him. That made him a selfish dick, and he accepted that about himself.
He pulled out but not away, keeping possession of her hair, his spent cock against her lips. The release had been explosive, liberating. It had been too long since he’d come like that. Her tongue slid up his cock, a gentle velvet rasp, and he shuddered again with pure pleasure. The way she did that, easing him down, easing him back into the real world, always left him shaken.
It took a few minutes to recover his breath, but he managed to snag his bottle of water and hand it to her. She’d always needed to drink water after a particularly aggressive and physically demanding session. She sank back onto her heels and poured the cool water down her throat.
He waited until she put the bottle down. “We’re not finished.”
Her gaze jumped to his. He reached down and lifted her into his arms. It was easy. He was extremely strong, and she wasn’t that big, although she thought she was. He took her to the bar and laid her out, her ass right on the end so he could put her legs over his shoulders. He kept one hand on her belly so there was no moving and, without preamble, attacked her clit.
She cried out, trying to squirm. He held her in place and took everything he wanted. Each time she got close, he backed off, listening to her soft little cries and pleas. She was there fast. Blowing him always made her needy. Always made her close. She’d told him repeatedly she loved it as much as he did. He didn’t see how that could be true, but she was always hot and damp and desperate to get off.
He slid his hand from her belly to her left breast. He liked playing with her because she was so responsive. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough. She liked aggression, but when she was coming up on her cycle, he gentled things down. She didn’t like sex during her time of the month because she said it hurt. It was the only time she’d asked him to back off, and he had, although as a doctor, he’d wanted to find a way to ease her cramps.
He tugged and rolled while he raked her clit with his teeth and then used his tongue to fuck her. Her breath was coming in ragged little pants when he suddenly switched tactics and jerked her thighs wide apart and flattened his tongue. He added his fingers into the mix, wishing he had thought to bring an ice bucket and heated stones. He liked to change things up with her, so she never knew which sensation she was getting.
Breezy went out of her way to give him pleasure of any kind he asked for, and he had no problem returning the favor. He loved every single moan and cry he extracted from her. More, he loved the way her body responded to everything he did. She was made for him, always ready for him.
Breezy had never told him no when he’d asked to try something new, and he’d given her every opportunity. Some of the things he’d asked for, she’d been a little intimidated by, but she’d trusted him enough to allow him to lead her gently into it. He’d always been careful when introducing her to something new. He loved that she’d always been willing.
Steele had taken her often, more than once a day, and it had never mattered to him where they were. He’d never taken her in front of the Swords, but he had in front of his brothers more often than not. They’d rarely paid attention, and if they had, it hadn’t been to leer at her. They felt safer losing control with the others around. No one could hurt them because someone was always on guard. It was the way they were, and none of them really questioned it. Breezy hadn’t. When his mouth was on her, she didn’t care about anything else.
He glanced up at the window. He needed these shots. He hoped, over time, as Breezy was with him, he would be able to forgo having tangible memories of the way she gave herself to him. The way she loved him. That look he needed so much.
“Steele.” Her voice hitched. It was a plea, not a demand.
He couldn’t help the smirk. “I want to see that desperation, baby. Look at me. Turn your head this way.” He needed the camera to catch that look for him. To record it. He pressed his fingers around her opening and leaned down to sip at the nectar. “Tell me what you want.”
“I need to come.”
He stroked her with his tongue and then raked her with his teeth. Suckled and then pulled back to rub his face on her inner thighs. “I don’t think I believe you.” He blew warm air on her and then started all over again.
Only when she was writhing, hips bucking, and he heard that soft little panicked note in her voice did he send her crashing over the edge. Breezy wasn’t absolutely quiet when she came, but the sounds she made were always low and musical. He loved hearing them. Sometimes he wondered if he initiated sex so much just to hear those sounds.
She lay stretched out on the bar, her body rippling with pleasure, fighting to get her breath back. One hand went to his hair, fingers sliding in, and everything in him went still. It was the first time she’d really touched him of her own accord. The way she used to. She could communicate love with just one caress of her fingers. This touch was natural to her and had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love.
She could convey her emotions so easily, so much so that to him, she was an open book. The way her fingers moved through his hair meant everything to him. He wanted time to stand still so that moment would last forever. His chest hurt. Ached. The pressure was unbelievable, but it didn’t matter. He didn’
t move. Not as long as those fingers stroked little caresses in his hair.
TEN
The pool was heated. On the Northern California coast it had to be if they were going to use it much, and Steele knew Breezy liked to swim. He’d discovered that little nugget of information on a warm day when she’d looked longingly at the river and told him one of her longtime wishes before she died was to own a pool where she could swim every day. The pool had been a requirement when he’d looked for a home.
He spent most of his time stretched out on a lounge chair, watching her swim laps. The way her body sliced through the water, as if she were a little fish, fascinated him. But everything about Breezy always had. Why she gave him everything he asked, he didn’t know, other than it was in her nature. Giving her everything was something he intended to do, and watching her sudden smile at him when she rose up out of the water, the happiness on her face, made him realize giving to Breezy was going to be his greatest joy.
He wanted to talk about their son, but he knew she was holding herself together by a thread. She didn’t even mention his name if she could help it. As much as it cost him waiting to know every detail about the boy, he had to curb his impatience and give her this time, this small reprieve before they hit the road and tore through Louisiana looking for Zane. The way she’d cried, her heart clearly broken, had reached into him and slipped the lock he kept on the door where the monster resided.
He closed his eyes against the sun. His captors, the guards, the trainers, so brutal, had won in the end. He’d been sensitive, a healer. Now he was a killer. A monster. He had the ability to shut down all feeling and become something else. Something no human being could possibly be. To get his son back, he would become what he detested. The thing he knew his captors had tried to shape him into and he had resisted for so long. Until . . . Until he had gone insane and the monster had emerged for his survival.