Page 32 of Executing Malice (Jefferson Rejects #4)

LEILA

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I don’t remember him being this close, but I can almost count every lash, every faint freckle beneath the warm tan of his skin. Up close, this close, it’s impossible to imagine not falling head over heels for him.

“Were you always this intense?”

His attention drifts lazily off my lips to find my eyes, leaving the fold tingling.

“Yes.”

I feel my cheeks tug into a grin. “Used condoms in a jar intense?”

His nose bumps mine. “Yes.”

My hands abandon all sense and brush the warm width of his chest. Traces the hard edges of his collarbone. Slide over the muscles of his shoulders.

“How long did that take you?”

“Not long.”

I hear myself chuckle. “How often did you...? ”

“Fantasize about filling you up so often our DNAs match?” His lips ghost mine in a feather light skim that rattles the rest of my system. “I never fucking stop.”

I have no memory of him putting the dish aside but his hands are under my top and fisted around my ass cheeks. I’m being pulled to the edge. My legs are spread wider.

His face dips into the side of my neck and he inhales.

“I love the smell of me on you,” he growls into the side of my skin. “My cum on your skin. On your breath. Dripping from both holes. I want to rub it into every inch of you until everyone knows you’re mine.”

That shouldn’t turn me on the way it does. The way it floods my core to pool under me has me shifting restlessly while he sucks and licks his way up my jawline.

I slide my hands up through all those silky strands and fist. I draw his head back to peer into his face.

“What if I don’t remember loving you?”

He captures my bottom lip between his teeth and nips just hard enough to make me wince.

“I’ll remind you. I’ll make you love me again. You have no choice.”

I tighten my fingers until he groans deep in his throat. “You can’t make me do anything. ”

The hot inferno from earlier sparks in his eyes. The twisted hunger teetering between madness and pleasure.

“Careful,” he warns. “I’ve been gentle so far.”

Weirdly bold and defiant in a way I’ve never felt before, I arch an eyebrow. “Pussy.”

Fire blooms in his eyes and my insides roar. It fuels something hot and angry in me, something uncontrollable and sick. There is a second heartbeat between my legs that is in full control of this hunger. It’s driving a reckless train off a cliff.

Humming with this new surge of power, I shove him. It’s like trying to swat a bear, but he’s caught off guard enough to fall back a step. Just enough for my hand to close into the handle of the knife from earlier.

I level it with his throat.

He doesn’t bat an eye.

Not a muscle wavers.

He stares into my face with a dare that has me soaked.

“Backup,” I tell him.

“You won’t get far,” he warns.

“I’m not running.” I nudge him with the point. My breath hitches with the tiny bead of blood that wells next to his Adam’s apple. “Back.”

He obliges with an amused cock to his head. He takes a slow step back.

“Drop your pants. ”

His eyebrow lifts, but his hands are already at his fastens. He has them open.

“Aren’t you scared?” I ask.

“You’re not they only one who enjoys this.”

Fuck!

The thought that he wants this as badly as I do only amps that crazy voice in my head. The one who wants to carve little lines all across his body and lick his blood.

Jesus.

Fuck.

I need to calm down.

Then his cock is in his hand and out between us and I lose all sense of rationality.

That’s fucking mine.

Every beautiful inch from the fat, pierced head to the cleanly shaven base ... mine. Every silver bar running up the underside ... mine.

“Off. All of it,” I demand, fingers tight around the sleek handle of my weapon.

The cargos are pulled off and kicked away.

And I’m on my knees. Face level with the most perfectly formed male appendage to grace the world. It arches just enough to make my insides beg to feel him rearrange my organs.

“Have we fucked? ”

He gives a faint nod. “Yes.”

“Did you have piercings then?”

“No.”

I lift my gaze up the solid plains of his stomach to lock gazes with him. “I’ve always been curious how a pierced cock would feel.”

“I know. You wanted me to get them. I wanted to be ready for when I found you.”

I lift up into my knees, just high enough to hover over his shiny head. “You did this for me?”

His jaw muscles look ready to shatter, but he’s not touching me or demanding I do anything. I wonder what he would say if I just stopped.

“I would do anything for you.”

Never breaking eye contact, I lean in and press my lips to the head. The salty tang of his pre-cum washes over my tongue. Fills my mouth.

But it’s the flare of his nostrils, the tightening of his fingers at his side. The crack of his knuckles as he fights for control.

I smirk and lick his slit.

“Fuck...!” he groans, low and primal.

Emboldened, I close my lips over the cap. The metal cross spearing just beneath the edges kiss my skin as I suck. They graze all four corners of my mouth as I take him in. The bars along the bottom brush my tongue with every gradual descent.

I add my fingers, curl them at the base, grip him just hard enough to make his jaw clench. Without loosening up, I lift him and run the flat of my tongue up the studded path to the crown.

In the same motion, I balance the tip of my blade against the skin between his dick and balls.

“Have you lied to me?” I ask with my own edge. “The stuff you said, is any of it true or are you just some sicko who wants his cock sucked?”

He nudges forward.

He cuts a line of crimson just over his right nut that immediately starts to well.

“No.”

Without thinking. Without even acknowledging the fact that he could be the Petri Dish of every STD known to man, I lean in and lick the droplet. Taste the sweet copper across my tongue.

“Were you going to hurt me?”

His fingers fist into my hair and I’m guided back to his balls. I obediently pull the injured one into my mouth, careful with the pressure. My tongue traces slow, deliberate circles around the tender skin, loving the taste of him .

His hiss is sharp, a jagged sound that melts into a groan as I suck gently, giving him just enough without pushing the pain too far.

“Fucking ... yes,” he breathes, though I’m not sure if it’s out of pleasure or answering my question.

His grip tightens but doesn’t force. It’s a silent plea not to stop that fuels the pleased demon deep inside me. Beneath my palms, his thighs tense and I give just the hint of teeth to keep him on edge.

“I wanted you to hurt the way you hurt me,” he says, gruff and earnest. “I thought you left me after promising you never would.”

His confession wrenches at my heart. I start to loosen my hold but his hand comes down over mine.

“Don’t.”

The shaft is a vivid purple color, the veins bulging. Clear cum trickles over the slit and down the shaft in a slick sheen.

I tighten my fingers and suck the head with his sharp hiss.

I draw back just enough to drag my tongue along the seam, teasing the sensitive flesh before slipping him deeper into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks as I suck with a careful rhythm.

My free hand cups and massages his testicles while I hollow my cheeks and pull him further into the back of my throat.

I work my tongue over and around each bar, coaxing a groan from his chest that washes over me with the hottest wave .

“Do you like it when it hurts?” I tease, nicking him again just next to the first cut.

His response is a slow, curling smile. “I like that you like it. I get hard knowing you’re soaked right now. That your pussy is ready to take every inch of me.” His every breath gets shallower, faster the more he says. The dick in my hands is practically vibrating. “Suck. Don’t stop.”

The command is given with a hard jerk of my hair.

I’m yanked over and down his cock. There isn’t an ounce of mercy as he slams my back into the cabinets.

I lose my balance and hit the wood hard with my shoulder blades.

The thump reverberates through the kitchen as my legs slide out from under me and I hit the floor with my bare ass.

Still, he’s not letting up. He’s dragging my head, pumping his hips. He’s using me like I’m nothing more than a hole to fill his pleasure.

“You were always so good with your mouth. Sucking my cock like it was your God given talent.”

I believe him.

His cock in my mouth is so familiar, so precise. Like I’ve done this a million times and loved it. My teeth and tongue know exactly when to nip, to lap, to stiffen my lips at the exact right moment to make him gasp and shudder .

It’s probably an insane indicator to use cock sucking as a lie detector, but I know he’s telling the truth. I know I know this man and I know he won’t hurt me — unless I ask him to. I trust him with a clarity I haven’t shown anything since that morning in the woods.

He is my person.

He’s the one I’ve been waiting for all this time. The reason no other man felt right because even with no memory, my body and some part of my brain always knew I belonged to him.

The overwhelming assault of emotions take me by the throat.

It wells up in my chest. When tears burn my eyes and tumble down my cheeks, they have nothing to do with his grip pulling out strands by the root, or the metal bars slamming into the back of my throat.

I’m suffocating on a weight I can’t control, can’t swallow.

He jerks back when I sniffle. His expression, still a mask of raw desire, twists into one of concern as he peers down at me.

“Leila?”

I try to use words to assure him I’m fine, but they hit the obstruction in my esophagus and all I can do is shake my head.

He’s crouched in front of me before I can suck in a breath and control myself. His hands drag me into his lap. My arms and legs instinctively twine around his neck and waist. Folding tight to keep him from vanishing as I’m flooded by an overpowering punch of reality .

“You found me,” I croak into the side of his neck.