Come Fill Me (The Prophecy) (16 page)

Jacob turned the bar of soap in his palms, working up sufficient lather.

With his hands on Liz’s shoulders, Zeke positioned her to face his brother. Wet hair stuck to Jacob’s cheeks, shoulders and chest. He shoved it back. Soap bubbles ran down his smooth skin, circling the scars left from tonight’s bullets.

Zeke grabbed Liz’s wrists, bringing them together.

“Lace your fingers,” he ordered. “Then put your hands behind the back of your head.”

Jacob worked the soap like there was no tomorrow.

For his brother, Zeke knew there wouldn’t be. Liz would keep her word about him mounting and using her. She’d hold his cock in her cunt, the depth of his penetration allowing him the full extent of her healing power, with that being all Zeke would allow. “Go on,” he said to her.

She didn’t jump at his command, instead working her fingers back and forth as though considering her response.

Zeke slipped his arm around her waist and didn’t temper his strength as he pulled her into him, her ass cushioning his cock. He flexed it to let her know the damn thing was hers only if she obeyed. With his mouth on her ear, he murmured, “Is there a problem?”

She whimpered at him licking the water from her lobe. Her body sagged into his when he kissed her throat. “No.”

“Then do it,” Jacob said.

The music grew wilder, Lady Gaga singing for all she was worth. Liz’s back tapped Zeke’s torso with her quickening breaths. She lifted her arms but didn’t put them behind her head. She put them behind his, pushing her fingers through his sodden hair, making certain their bodies were as close as possible.

Sensing Jacob might not approve, Zeke placed his hands on her thighs, guiding her to part them. She did. To ensure she wouldn’t bring them back together, denying his brother what he expected to take, Zeke splayed his fingers on her inner thighs, holding tight, caging her with his touch.

She submitted even more, her body wilting against his. “Do my boobs first,” she begged Jacob.

He watched how Liz arched her back, presenting herself to him. Moisture gathered on her peaked nipples, rolling over the swells of her breasts. The soap went still in Jacob’s palms, forgotten by the bounty he witnessed.

“No.” The word croaked out of him. He cleared his throat and continued, “Your cunt first.”

Excellent choice.

With Zeke behind her and Jacob in front, Liz had no choice except to surrender…a titillating prospect. She pushed her body against Zeke’s in anticipation of his brother’s touch. Not hurrying, Jacob placed his soapy fingers on her belly. Her muscles quivered, sending a rush of feeling to her pussy. Liz shivered in delight.

Zeke pressed his fingers into her thighs, pulling her as close as he could, forcing her to feel the thickness and rigidity of his cock.

It was in the crease of her buttocks. She wiggled her ass to rub its length.

“Stop it,” Jacob ordered, then spoke to his brother. “Keep her still.” With his face close to hers and their noses just about touching, Jacob warned, “I don’t want you moving. I don’t want to hear a sound out of you either, understand?”

Hell no, she didn’t get that at all. “Is it okay with you if I breathe?”

Zeke laughed, his chest trembling with it.

Hmm. Nice.

“You want this?” Jacob asked, pulling back, teasing her clit with his forefinger.

So many delightful sensations shot through Liz, she fisted her fingers in Zeke’s hair, needing it as an anchor.

“Hey, easy,” he complained.

“Yes, I want it,” she blurted to Jacob.

He wore the same smug smile Zeke had in the van, demonstrating their shared DNA and über confidence with women. Not unlike Carreon and his men, though that was far different. Their arrogance and lust had finally sickened her. With Jacob…with Zeke…she was eager to play along.

They wouldn’t hurt her. Jacob didn’t have it in him. Nor did Zeke, with Liz having already witnessed the kind of man he was. A father who missed his little girl. A leader who truly cared for his people. She sensed he’d battle anyone, even his brother, to protect her. Giving in to her hunger for this, Liz relaxed against Zeke, her nudity displayed for Jacob’s use, her spirit willing.

“Touch me,” she begged. “Fuck me.”

Jacob’s brows rose as though he hadn’t expected her to accept him with such naked desire. He looked so young and unsure, Liz leaned forward to offer a kiss, wanting to convince him of her sincerity. Just as quickly, Zeke used his hold on her thighs to haul her right back, his tension obvious. Why? Was he worried about pissing off Jacob by letting her move, or was she yanking Zeke’s hair too hard again? She loosened her grip on it. Rather than calming him, he held her even tighter…as though to establish his claim.

If Jacob noticed, it didn’t trouble him or stop his next move. He worked the lather in her delicate curls, its citrusy fragrance scenting the humid air. His hand dipped lower to bathe her slit, the soft folds protecting her opening, her nub.

Liz gasped at him touching it.

“Quiet,” Jacob ordered, pulling his hand away.

She bit her lip and pressed her toes into the smooth floor, wanting to curse him, needing to beg, figuring neither would get him to touch her again.

“Do as he says,” Zeke advised, “or he’ll never let you come.”

And he knew that how? Because they’d boasted to each other about their conquests? Or had they gone beyond sharing their women to engaging in threesomes? If so, had they slept with Kele at the same time?

Even with the water’s warmth and the heat emanating from both men, Liz went cold. The thought of Zeke on top of the young woman, inside of Kele, disturbed her more than she wanted to admit. She only had tonight with him. She had no right to worry about his past or to police his future.

Jacob must have interpreted her silence as consent, because he continued, drawing Liz back to the present where she preferred to be, stirred by his attention to her clit, soothed by the caressing mist, Zeke’s big body. She snuggled into him, unmindful of Jacob’s earlier prohibition that she remain still.

To punish or perhaps test her, Jacob abandoned her nub, running the lather over her nipples instead.

They peaked within his palms, their sensitivity radiating outward, sending luscious ripples of feeling throughout Liz. The sound she made was outrageously weak. Her legs were wobbly. She hung on to Zeke for support.

He didn’t complain as he had the last time. He kept her steady, allowing his brother to do what he willed.

Jacob ran his hand down her ribs, around her navel, pausing as her muscles jumped, stroking them repeatedly to get the same reaction. She sucked in the muggy air, trying to resist, to keep quiet and still, wanting him to end her wait for climax.

With pitiless intent, he kept her from it, washing her belly, her collarbone and pits, the insides of her arms. Liz gasped at the tickling sensations, helpless to stop the noises she made.

Jacob ran his fingers over her trembling lips. His own broadened in an imperious smile that seemed to say he was the boss of her, no one else.

Zeke’s hands on her, the press of his chest against her back, contradicted the notion. Not that Liz would admit to it. If she did, Jacob might make her wait hours for relief just to prove he could.

She sucked her lower lip to keep quiet and locked her knees to stay steady. Still as a statue, she waited.

Moisture ran down Jacob’s face, catching briefly on his brows and stubbled cheeks, dropping from his chin onto his chest. With his confident stance and intense gaze, he reminded Liz of the male models on romance novels, all slick with sweat, prepared to do their worst. A magnificent study in youth and virility, this modern-day warrior looked more than ready to claim a female’s flesh.

Fascinated, she watched him turning the soap in his hands, working up more bubbles that he’d soon slather over her body. At length, he stopped and leaned down, brushing her mouth with his.

She behaved as a fawning slave would, parting her lips to accept his tongue. Rather than offering it to her, Jacob broke their connection, his hand returning to the erect kernel between her legs. With as much expertise as Zeke had shown earlier, Jacob rubbed her.

Up she shot, baring her teeth at her clit’s hypersensitivity. One stroke had her whimpering, the next moaning. She sank to her heels and clamped her jaw, squeezing it so no other sound could escape that might cause Jacob to stop.

Although the pace of his rubbing slowed a bit, he continued to tease her nub, determining her limits.

Zeke offered no help. He’d taken to nibbling her earlobe and licking her neck, pausing a few times to suckle each, his openmouthed kisses and lapping tongue making her hair stand on end.
Oh shit, shit, shit.
She couldn’t bear anymore. Both of them were nuts if they thought she could. This was as bad as expecting a woman to lie still and not pant or scream while birthing a baby.

“I can’t,” she finally blurted, then cried, “I just can’t. I—ah—oh—”

It was impossible for her to form any other words. Sounds spilled from her, incoherent noises accompanying her explosive orgasm. Her jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly. She fought within Zeke’s embrace, needing to close her legs, to get away from Jacob’s hand.

Neither brother allowed it, forcing her to endure minute after minute of their sexual torture that seemed to go on without end.

Damp with water and perspiration, Liz succumbed to their will, sagging into Zeke, accepting him suckling her neck while Jacob continued to stroke. Her pussy pulsed wildly.

Indifferent to her state, Jacob licked her just-washed nipples while continuing to amuse himself with her cunt, driving one, then two, then three fingers inside—the same as Zeke had done—before returning to her clit. Her arms shook from her weakened state and having held them up for so long, but she didn’t dare lower them. Such disobedience might convince Jacob she needed even more of his attention when what Liz craved was a bit of rest.

He didn’t give it to her. Neither did Zeke.

After a time, the mere act of pulling in enough air seemed beyond her capability. Her thoughts grew jumbled, the way they did after she’d had too much to drink. Sleep edged close, weakening her further.

Zeke’s hold kept Liz from sagging to the floor. Jacob unlaced her fingers and guided her arms down.

Not knowing his intent, Liz figured it wasn’t going to be an offer to rest. She whined, “What?”

“Your turn to wash me.” He dropped the bar of soap in her hand.

He wanted her to bathe him? He expected her to have that kind of strength after what he and Zeke had just done?

The soap slid off her palm, smacking into the floor. There was no drain, and yet the water hadn’t accumulated there. As Zeke had stated before—weird.

“Better pick that up,” Jacob advised. “You’re going to need it.”

Liz swore beneath her breath.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Zeke answered, his arms around her middle. Caressing her gently, he murmured, “Tired?”

She nodded, craving his understanding and authority. As head honcho, Zeke could tell Jacob to take a hike and grant her a nap.

“Too bad,” Zeke said, moving from behind her but not letting go. He gripped her wrist with one hand and swatted her butt with his other. “You heard the man.”

That she had. What she didn’t understand was him. Hot for her one minute, willing to share the next. She muttered, “Fine.”

The brothers exchanged a glance as though both of them were thinking,
what’s with her?

Showing them, Liz sank to the floor and crooked her finger, directing Jacob to follow.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pushed his lean hips out a bit, no doubt to show off his defiance and huge erection. Zeke’s was just as bulky and a fraction longer. Their plump balls were really nice too. With so much male equipment to stare at, Liz had trouble getting her fill of both.

“You want me to lie down,” Jacob said, reclaiming her attention.

“You’re long,” she said, eyeing his length, “but I don’t think even you can reach my pussy from way up there.”

Zeke snickered.

Jacob’s proud smile turned into a scowl. He glared at his brother for a long moment, then did as Liz wanted, lying spread-eagle on the floor, his hands behind his head.

“Wash me first,” he ordered, “before you climb on.”

Liz lowered her face in exaggerated submission, playing the game she sensed he wanted. “Of course.”

She grabbed the soap and worked up a lather. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Zeke stepping closer, observing.

Longing for her to do to him what she would with his brother?

Liz risked a glance. Zeke studied her without restraint, no pretense in his expression. He wanted her badly and no longer seemed in the mood to wait. He was definitely hot for her again.

“I’ll get to you next,” she promised before he said anything to anger his brother. “After I tend to Jacob.” Liz rested her hand on Jacob’s hairy thigh to assure him he had her full consideration.

“No,” Zeke said.