{Nauti Boys 5} - Nauti Deceptions (47 page)

The look on his face was sexy as hell. Dark and primal. She wondered how long it would take him to break that incredible control of his.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed out as she trailed her fingers back to her breasts and whispered a touch over her nipples.

“Am I really?” She smiled back at him. “I’m a little short.”

“That’s what they make those damned high heels for,” he breathed roughly. “Rogue, sweetheart, we’re reaching critical here.” His hand tightened on his cock. “Take the panties off, baby.”

“You take them off.”

It was a dare. It was a challenge. And she should have known better. She would have if it hadn’t produced exactly the reaction she wanted.

He was across the distance in two short steps. His fingers curled under the band of the thong and pulled. The material ripped away from her with a hiss of a sound. One arm went around her back and he lifted her, dragging one leg over his hip as he turned to the bed.

The heavy crest of his cock was poised at the entrance to her pussy, pressing against her as he laid her back along the bed, spread her legs wide, and lowered his gaze to watch.

It was so damned sexy it should be illegal. Rogue watched, too. Watched as the bare folds of her sex parted and the blunt, dark head of his erection began to press inside her.

Heat seared her from the inside out. Pleasure whipped through her body, centered at the point of penetration, and then sizzled over her flesh. Her clit throbbed, and she swore if he didn’t hurry she was going to orgasm before he was even seated fully inside her.

She was desperate, on fire. Her hand pushed down her abdomen again and her fingers found the straining nub of her clit as Zeke jerked against her.

“God, that’s fucking sexy,” he groaned as she touched herself.

His hips shifted and a cry left her lips as he sank deeper inside her. The erotic stretching was sheer bliss. The little bite of a burn, the stroke of rapture. Rogue’s back arched with the sensations, her head dug into the mattress.

“There, baby,” he breathed out, his voice rough, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as she watched him pull back. “Ah God. You’re so sweet. So tight and hot.”

Her finger raced over her clit as he began to move inside her. Deep, heavy thrusts that had her hips writhing as she masturbated to the swift tempo he was creating.

It was exquisite, heated. Bliss.

“More,” she begged, watching as his cock pulled free, glistened with her juices, then shoved inside again with a hard, hungry stroke.

Rogue could feel the sensations gathering inside her, the tight knot of heat in her womb, the throb of her clit, the racing of her blood, and the ache in her nipples. They were growing, signaling the approach of her orgasm as she tried to push that steady ascension faster. She wanted it now. She wanted to explode in his arms, wanted to scream his name.

It was more than just the pleasure, more than just her approaching orgasm. Zeke was here in her arms, in her bed. She stared up at him, memorizing the arousal-heavy planes and angles of his face, the perspiration building on his corded, muscular shoulders.

Arching in his arms, she felt the warning thunder in her veins, the burst of almost violent sensation as his hips twisted against her, thrusting heavily, stroking, building the pleasure inside her, and she wondered if she could survive. If she’d live through the cataclysm racing for her.

She saw it as it exploded. Blinding lights, the pulse and throb of her vagina around the heavy thrusts inside it. The stretching burn, the need, the desire, and finally the blinding, soul- shattering explosion that had her screaming his name, twisting in his arms, and melting in completion.

“Zeke. Oh God, Zeke. I love you. I love you.”

He couldn’t leave her again. She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t stand to see him walk away, to see him face danger alone, not knowing she loved him, not knowing that when he came back, she would be there. No matter what.

Her hands jerked to his face, clasped it as he jerked above her in his own release. Their eyes met, melded.

“I love you,” she cried huskily. “Don’t you know, Zeke? Whether you loved me or not, I’d die for you.”

His golden brown eyes flared with heat. His expression twisted in pain, in remorse.

“I love you until I can’t breathe for needing you.” His voice was jerky, panting. “God, Rogue. I live for you.”

He shuddered against her; the feel of his release spilling inside her, the press of his body against her, it was completion. It was where she was meant to be.

This was the dream. It went past the little deceptions he had played upon her, it went past the anger and the hurt pride. It overrode their fears. Here. In Zeke’s arms, Caitlyn Rogue found a home.

It was the party of the year as far as the Mackay
Marina and its inhabitants were concerned as the owners of the marina hosted the reception for the Pulaski County sheriff that finally tied the knot with the rogue that stole his heart.

The bride was exquisite in an off-white medieval gown. The groom was debonair in his black tux. The best man, Somerset’s chief of police, Alex Jansen, stood with the matron of honor, his wife, Janey Mackay Jansen.

The tables that had been set up beneath the canopy erected just for the event were filled. But the main attraction, even for the bride and groom, were the three exquisite Mackay daughters that had been born to the Mackay cousins in the past year.

All girls. Their daddies held them close and glared at the guests who laughed, because they couldn’t believe the notorious Mackay cousins had all gotten payback quite so good.

“Yeah, those girls are going to be wilder than the wind,” one guest remarked. “Can’t you just see Natches at fifty, hobbling on his cane to keep up with that girl of his?”

His daughter, with a head full of thick black hair tipped with gold and curious green eyes, stared up at her daddy with a spark of mischief already.

“What about that Dawg,” another guest ventured. “A daughter. Oh man. I can’t wait to see the shenanigans those girls get into.”

Dawg growled.

“Bet me ole Rowdy’s girl ain’t the wildest,” another guest dared. “He was always the quiet one of the bunch. You know he was the ringleader.”

The guests laughed, looked at three perfect little girls with black hair and green eyes, and felt a smidgen of compassion for the former bad boys of the county.

Three Mackay girls. Cousins. Gorgeous and already confident of their place in the world.

Yeah, give it another twenty years and the Mackays would be the talk of the town again. The Mackays, and the friends that backed them. The Nauti Boys would one day become the Nauti Girls.