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Chapter Seven

Zeke dreaded falling asleep, not knowing what trouble his dreams would bring. Unlike his visions that showed the future, the past always returned at night.

On the edge of consciousness, he watched himself as he was in his early twenties. He and his girl, Angie, were at the Taabe Sisters Shack, a fast-food joint their people owned. The rival clan, led by Carreon's father, operated businesses on the other side of town. With an uneasy truce in place, everyone behaved and stayed with their own kind.

The scent of sweet potatoes, buffalo burgers, and fried corn with onions should have been enticing, but Zeke wasn't hungry, couldn't relax. Breaking up with a girl was never easy. However, there was no other choice. He was beginning to feel trapped. His legs bounced beneath the plastic table. His gut clenched as Angie placed her hand on his. Her palm was so soft and warm he almost forgot what the end of their date would bring. Almost.

"Zeke, what's wrong?" she whispered. "Tell me."

I don't love you. I'm sorry, but I don't. I can't.

"Zeke?"

He forced himself to look at her, surprised he couldn't see her features clearly, as though he was looking through fog. She sighed. "You've guessed, haven't you?"

Guessed what? That she wanted to break up with him? Would it really be that easy?

"I'm pregnant," she said.

His dream moved forward at lightning speed, the midwife handing him his daughter, Gabrielle. Her full head of black hair was the biggest part about her. In his hands, she seemed tinier than a newborn pup. Zeke was convinced he'd break all of her bones just by holding her. When she sneezed, he panicked, not knowing what to do.

"Take her," he told the midwife. "She's sick. Make her well."

The middle-aged woman patted his shoulder as she would an idiot son. "Your daughter's fine."

Zeke refused to believe it. He didn't want anything harming Gabrielle, not even a cold. When she settled in his arms and breathed softly, the heat of her body, its weight, and sweet baby scent calmed his worries, allowing him to smile. He fell in love.

His dream continued, showing him snatches of his daughter's brief life. Gabrielle's first steps, her chubby arms waving wildly with each tentative move, trying to maintain her balance on her journey toward him. He next saw her at an older age, maybe five, thrusting out her lower lip, stamping her small foot when he refused to give her more candy, another toy, permission to stay up later than she should, any number of things she demanded and he denied.

They battled and she won more times than he did, wrapping her small hands around his heart, never letting go, making him concede with so little effort.

He reached out to hug her. She stepped back, not allowing it this time, her skinny arms crossed tight against her chest. "I have to go. All the girls are."

Bright red, blue, and green balloons bobbed around her, the kind parents used to decorate their kid's birthday parties. This one was for Gabrielle's school friend.

"I don't care," Zeke said, crossing his arms as she had. He hadn't planned on allowing her to attend the party, not because of any danger he'd feared or seen in his visions—they'd been quiet for so long he'd almost forgotten about the continuing threat from the other clan—but because Gabrielle had received such poor marks on her arithmetic test.

"You need a firmer hand with your daughter," her teacher had warned. She was a pretty young woman, the top of her head barely reaching the middle of his chest. Despite the differences in their sizes, she lectured him with the ease of a mother. "Gabrielle needs to do her homework, not play all the time. If you don't start saying no when she's young, you'll regret it when she hits her teens."

For once, he remained firm, taking the party off his daughter's too-busy social calendar. For days, Gabrielle whined and cajoled, finally crying, deep, wrenching sobs that shook her narrow body. Her tears undid Zeke as they always did.

In his dream, he held a box in his hand that contained a surprise—the yellow outfit she coveted. "You can go to the party," he said, trying to sound fatherlike and stern, "but only if you wear this."

She'd danced around their modest house with the clothes clutched to her chest. She modeled them for him, making him worry about the day when she'd do the same with her prom dress and then her wedding gown.

"You'll regret it," her teacher had said.

His voice rose in anguish as he smelled the gunpowder and saw the blood. It stained the walls, the still-bobbing balloons, Gabrielle's yellow clothing. She and Angie were already dead. He held his daughter in his arms, rocking her, willing her to breathe, to live.

Come back.

"I miss you, Daddy."

Sweet baby, don't go.

The balloons surrounded then hid her. She slipped away.

Zeke jerked awake, his throat damp with sweat, his chest pumping too hard with each strained breath.

Disoriented, he turned, seeing Liz on his right, Jacob behind her, his arm draped possessively across her waist. A surge of jealousy rolled through Zeke like nothing he'd ever encountered. Teeth clenched, he had an unbearable urge to shove his brother from her, to pull Liz into his embrace, to shout, Mine, not yours, dammit— mine.

"Hey," Liz whispered, her hand stalling before she'd finished pushing back her hair. "Are you all right?" She eased Jacob's arm from her, waiting to see what he'd do.

When Jacob continued to sleep, Liz touched Zeke's lips, running her thumb over his bristly jaw. "Did you have a vision?"

He wished. Since Gabrielle's death, even Zeke's worst glimpses into the future had been easier to take than his memories. That was, until his latest vision concerning Liz.

An urgency to protect her drew Zeke closer, the mattress shaking as he repositioned his body.

The movement had Jacob stirring then reaching for her before Zeke could.

"Back off," Zeke ordered.

"No." Jacob sounded more alert than his sleepy features should have allowed. "It's my turn now. That's what Liz said when you took her first, remember?"

Before she or Zeke could answer, his brother left the bed and offered her his hand.

Zeke frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Helping the lady to her feet," he said, doing just that.

"Wait," she said, glancing back at Zeke when Jacob led her away from him. "Where are we going?" Her attention shot to the room's closed door, her nudity.

"Shower," he said then nuzzled her neck. "Sound good?"

Zeke noticed the color rising in her cheeks, her features growing slack with arousal.

"Okay," she murmured.

Her breathlessness was all the encouragement Jacob needed. He slipped his arm around her waist, the ends of his hair swinging above his butt as he directed her to the bath.

The bed frame rattled with Zeke's hasty departure, his irritation mounting as he followed them. In the center of the room, Liz pulled away from Jacob so she could turn a slow circle, her lips parting at what she saw.

In here, the limestone walls glowed with an inner light that matched the gentle illumination from the lamps in the bedroom. Liz stepped closer to examine the phenomenon, stopping as the glow turned mirrorlike, showing her reflection. Her lips were puffy from his and Jacob's ardent kisses. Her hair wonderfully tousled.

Smoothing it down, she glanced to the left. Within that wall was the shower made of the same alloy used in the tunnel. There was no glass door or showerhead, just the metal-like enclosure in a semicircular shape.

"Where's the—" She stopped as Jacob pressed the control panel, turning on the water.

It misted within the enclosure, not one drop spilling out to touch the polished stone floor.

"Whoa." Liz padded to the edge of it. Just before her fingers reached the mist, she snatched back her hand and retreated several steps.

"Go on," Jacob coaxed. "It's just water; it won't hurt you."

The way her breasts and ass kept jiggling was really killing Zeke. His cock continued to stiffen, already harder and longer than his brother's. Jacob paid no heed, no doubt confident that Liz's earlier pledge made her his.

"How's this possible?" she asked, turning her hand in the mist. Water rolled down her fingers as it would from a regular showerhead. "How can the walls glow then turn into a mirror?"

"Dunno," Jacob said.

Zeke stepped closer to her. "Our clan's ancestors built it. Remember me telling you that?"

"Right." She eased her arm deeper into the shower then glanced up at the music suddenly pounding through the room. Bad Romance to be exact. "Lady Gaga?" she asked Jacob.

He seemed put off by her question. "I like her sound."

"Jacob's still young," Zeke explained, moving toward Liz, using his size to back her into the shower. "Kids like him enjoy that sort of stuff."

"I'm fucking thirty," Jacob growled.

Liz didn't acknowledge his advanced age or annoyance. Her attention was riveted to Zeke, just the way he preferred it. He moved closer. She retreated. Pearls of water dripped from her lashes and beaded on her hair. Her shoulders and ass hit the wall. She flinched, pressing her palms to it.

No way was Zeke going to waste his time touching anything but her. He demanded soft female flesh against every part of him. With his hands on either side of Liz's face, he drove his fingers through her damp mane, using it to keep her still as he lowered his mouth to hers.

She tasted of the warm water misting around them. Her breath poured out in a silky purr, the tip of her tongue meeting his. With startling speed, she filled his mouth first.

Zeke's knees sagged. However, that hardly meant he was going to let her run this show. He'd command. She'd obey. With his length pressed to hers, he ground his cock into her pussy and suckled her tongue, pulling it deeper into his mouth.

She pushed to her toes in what could have been surprise or excitement then sagged back down, yielding to whatever he wanted. His willing slave…his woman, just as he'd already decided.

Zeke deepened his kiss but didn't lose control as he might have with another woman, one he lusted after but didn't really care about. Instead, he forced himself to be gentle, rubbing his body against hers, moaning with contentment as her kiss nourished him. His tenderness achieved the effect he wanted. Liz ran her hands over his back then down his ass, pulling him into her, telling him she didn't want to let go.

Jacob's pissed breathing intruded, trying to break the magic.

Zeke's first thought was to ignore him. Growing up, his brother had always wanted whatever Zeke had, not out of some soul-deep need but simple sibling rivalry. Even when their mother prepared food Jacob didn't like, he'd begged her to give him as much as she'd given Zeke. He'd nagged their father to get him the same archery set Zeke received for his twelfth birthday. Used only twice, the bow and arrows were still collecting dust in the garage of their parents' boarded-up home.

And now Jacob wanted Liz, not only because she was impossible to resist but as a competitor might covet a prize.

Reluctant to start a fight he would surely win, Zeke eased back, searching Liz's face. Her expression said it all. She wanted them both but craved him more. He spoke to Jacob. "What do you say I hold Liz still so you can wash her? Take your time. Make certain you soap up all the good parts. All right?"

Jacob's features relaxed. "Sounds like a plan."

Liz teased, "Don't I get a say in this?"

"No," he said and so did Jacob, with them speaking as one. Zeke grinned.

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.

Jacob pulled his hands from behind his head and went to his elbows. "What?"

His brusque challenge didn't faze Zeke. He continued to study her. "I don't want you washing me. I like your scent on my body."

He spoke with such honesty and helpless desire it took all of Liz's will not to invite him into her arms. She had Jacob to tend to, a promise to keep that he could burrow within her, taking what he wanted this night.

Turning, she placed her hand on Jacob's belly, tracing his scars with her fingertips. "Lie back," she murmured. "Relax."

He grunted on his way down to the floor, watching his brother the entire time.

To get Jacob to focus on her, Liz turned her back to him, straddling his lean hips, her cunt near his face, his stiffened cock inches below her lips.

He grabbed her ass, his thumbs digging into her cheeks.

"You're sure you want me to wash you?" she asked.

"What? Huh?" He pulled her down to get at her cleft.

She resisted, not yet wanting him to lick it. "Guess not. How's this?"

His legs stiffened, and he groaned at her bathing his cock with her tongue. She swirled it around the head, paying particular attention to the uneven skin at the back of his crown.

Jacob brought up his legs so fast his thighs bumped her shoulders. Using the heels of his feet for leverage, he lifted his hips to drive his cock into her mouth.

Poor baby. He didn't yet realize the advantage she had and intended to use. With his shaft in her palm, Liz guided him into her mouth a little at a time, delaying the inevitable climax. No different from when he'd been fucking around with her release.

"Dammit," he growled. "Take me faster. Deeper. All the fucking way."

Liz slowed even more, letting the bit of him she'd just taken inside slip right back out.

Jacob swore, his oaths louder than the new music that played. Beyonce's Best Thing I Never Had .

Liz grinned at his choice in music. Not badass gangsta rap, as she would have expected, but female vocalists. A kid, Zeke had called him. To prove otherwise, to make him feel cherished and desired during this act, Liz did what he'd demanded, taking his cock fully, the head slipping to the back of her throat.

The way he sucked in a breath said she'd succeeded in pleasing him. She slid his cock out then back in again, pursing her lips around the shaft, flicking her tongue on the most sensitive part of the head.

He roared in satisfaction. However, his reaction didn't keep him docile beneath her, willing to accept whatever she chose. With his hands clamped on her hips, he pulled her down, giving Liz no chance to resist as he licked the length of her slit.

Her toes curled and her shoulders jerked up. Hell no. Not again. She wasn't ready for another prolonged journey to orgasm. Her poor little nub was still recovering from her last climax. Frantic to regain control of the act, Liz cupped his balls, working them in her palm.

Jacob's tongue stalled on her pussy.

Before he could pull himself together, she fondled his sac and moved her mouth up and down his rod.

He groaned and shivered. Pre-come spilled from the tiny slit in his crown, tasting delicious on her tongue. He was almost there. Hers to command.

Without warning, Liz released his balls and cock.

Jacob stiffened then shouted, "Don't fucking stop!"

Far calmer than he, she murmured, "I'm not." As gracefully as she could, Liz lifted her leg and turned to face him. Jacob's hair streamed away from his head on a flow of water she couldn't see. His biceps bulged, the snake tattoo on the left one seeming to move with each flex of his muscles. He looked in serious carnal pain that Liz wanted to relieve. She straddled him again, her curls touching his, his cock resting on his belly, the head pointing at his frustrated frown.

Liz stroked his abs. "Relax. You'll give yourself a stroke."

From behind, Zeke made a noise that sounded as if he was trying hard not to laugh.

"You—quiet," Jacob ordered his brother. "You," he said to her. "Take me inside right—holy shit."

"Way ahead of you," Liz purred, guiding him within her opening, her sheath sinking over his firm length.

Their bodies touched. She exhaled at being so filled, her opening stretched by him as she'd pledged. Not that it meant she was through. She hadn't even begun. Lowering her torso to his, Liz bit his bottom lip, a playful move that caused no pain.

Jacob smiled.

She licked the seam of his lips, tracing his grin, then tilted her face so she could fasten her mouth on his, pouring her healing breath into him, delivering her tongue.

He accepted both without question, flexing his cock within her cunt as they necked. Liz guided him, keeping their kiss tender and slow to test each other's reaction. Jacob soon tired of that, his desire torrid rather than sentimental.

In that, he was different from Zeke and didn't even realize it.

Rather than show him what a little romancing could do, Liz followed his lead, their kiss turning desperate and noisy. Water dripped from her hair to his. More rolled down her spine, slipping from the furrow between her cheeks to her anus. Deliberately, Liz kept her ass as high as she could, as inviting as she could make it to Zeke.

He didn't ignore the temptation.

Dropping to his knees, he gripped her ass, his fingers separating her cheeks, his thumbs exploring her tightest opening.

Her tongue stalled in Jacob's mouth. He pushed it out, filling her with his tongue instead. Liz suckled him, aroused by his kiss, thrilled at Zeke stroking her anus with full intent to use it.

At that moment, everything except the Neekoma brothers faded into the background. She no longer heard the water dripping from their bodies or Beyonce's strong, sexy voice. Liz became a creature of pleasure, her senses overwhelmed by the scent of both men, their powerful bodies and ruthless wills to have her.

Zeke nudged her anus with the tip of his cock, prepared to enter. The lack of lubrication didn't bother Liz. Carreon's lieutenants had never used it, nor had he. From the beginning of their relationship, even when Carreon had fooled her into believing he cared, he'd still demanded she experience a man's body without anything coming between his flesh and hers.

Her ex-lover had prepared her well for this moment, and now that it was here, she didn't want to wait a second more for the pleasure to play out.

Lifting her ass as much as she could, Liz presented it to Zeke.

He placed his fingers on either side of her opening, pulling it apart, directing his crown inside. He wasn't brutal or too gentle. He was a man who knew what he wanted and how to satisfy a woman. It took him little time to tunnel within her, her passage stretched to accommodate his size, their bodies kissing, his balls swinging into her cunt.

With each of her openings filled, Liz went with the program, wanting the men to do most of the work.

They didn't disappoint, though Jacob continued to compete. Trying to best the steady rhythm of Zeke's thrusts, he made his own slow, then fast, then slow once more. The effect was surprising, arousing Liz quicker than she would have guessed. Even with Jacob's tongue still in her mouth, her panting was loud, filling the space. Zeke slipped his arm around her leg, touching her clit, rubbing it.

Mother-freaking crap. She was way past panting now. Choking back a moan, Liz pulled her mouth from Jacob's.

He looked closer to the edge than she felt, his face red from lack of air or what her pussy was doing to him.

He pumped his cock into her cunt with stunning determination. Zeke did the same in her anus even as he massaged her nub, making her whimper. Their scents and hers mingled, smelling of naked flesh, sex, way better than the soap's citrusy fragrance.

Liz gulped the misty air. She tried to hold off and failed, lifting her chin to the ceiling as she released a husky moan, signaling her climax.

Zeke thrust several more times before allowing his own orgasm. Jacob tried to outdo his brother but succumbed at approximately the same time. They all gasped and groaned. The music continued to play. The water misted. Zeke pulled out of her and sank to the floor. Liz sagged over Jacob's leg, her pussy releasing him.

After her prolonged celibacy, each of her openings stung from so much use. She relished the slight pain, knowing she wouldn't be experiencing it for much longer…not even with Zeke.

A melancholy moan bubbled in the base of her throat. Liz curled into a fetal position in a foolish attempt to stop it and to protect her heart.

Jacob rolled in her direction.

Zeke got to her first, pulling Liz into his embrace. He kissed her deep and slow, widening the divide between him and his brother.

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