Her hair was a mass of hopeless tangles, dark circles discolored the skin beneath her eyes, and her jeans were filthy with dirt, blood and who knew what else. She spoke without thinking. “I look really shitty.”
“Bullshit.” Zeke swept her into his arms. He was so strong, he made it seem as though she weighed nothing.
Easily, Liz snuggled into him and glanced at his bed.
After a moment’s hesitation, he bypassed it.
Not a good thing. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Bathroom.”
“Why?”
He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “For a bath.”
Okay.
She expected Zeke’s bathroom to be similar in design to his brother’s. Jacob’s shower was no more than a semicircular depression in the wall, made of the same metal alloy as that in the tunnel. No glass door or showerhead was visible. Rather than pouring down, the water had misted in the enclosure and somehow drained away even though there wasn’t any visible means for it to escape.
No such shower existed in Zeke’s bath, a room that was perfectly circular. Instead, there was a large stone tub, ringed with polished rocks of various colors. Some had veins of yellow running through them that sparkled like gold. Zeke put Liz down and touched one of the larger rocks. Instantly, water poured into the tub from between the smooth stones, splashing merrily over several of them. Frail threads of steam rose from the tub, the water scented with something fresh and sweet Liz couldn’t immediately identify.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This is amazing. Better than a rock star’s pad.”
Zeke grinned. “You have no idea.” He touched the wall. The entire area, including the ceiling, turned into a mirror. Behind it was that same golden glow. Subtle. Romantic.
She grinned. “Your alien ancestors must have been hedonists.”
“They were. I’ve been told I take after them.”
At her side, Zeke sank to his knees and unfastened Liz’s jeans. The denim folded away from her, exposing her belly. Zeke kissed the gentle swell.
Her muscles trembled. Sighing, she used his shoulder for support as he removed her moccasins. Next, he eased her jeans down, exposing her mound and thighs. With the garment bunched at her knees, Zeke cupped her naked ass and pulled Liz into him, his mouth on her cleft, his tongue exploring her sex, searching for her clit.
She gasped as he found it.
Zeke suckled her, his tongue flicking against her erect nub. A satisfied moan escaped Liz as indescribable sensations surged through her. Her knees sagged. Zeke pressed the pads of his fingers into her ass to give her as much support as he could. He licked and sucked until Liz thought she’d explode. Her body tensed. Her burning lungs urged her to breathe. Gritting her teeth, she surrendered to him and her coming climax.
Zeke stopped, stalling the magic.
Liz alternately groaned and panted, then frowned. “Why did you stop? What are you doing?”
“Undressing you. Hold on.”
The last of her arousal drifted away, leaving overwhelming frustration. Clamping her hand on his shoulder, Liz lifted one leg, then the other so he could remove her jeans.
The moment she was nude, Zeke stood, his attention on her breasts and pussy as he unbuttoned his jeans, then lowered the fly.
“Wait.” She went to him. “Let me do that.”
“Will you hurry?”
Was he kidding? Liz stared at the meaty bulge behind his fly, the dark curls above it, revealed by the denim sagging away from his body. She found it impossible to swallow, difficult to speak, her desire was so great. “What do you think?”
“You ask too many questions.”
She shouldn’t have asked that one or taken her eyes off the prize. It gave Zeke the few seconds he needed to strip, which deprived her of so much. The chance to lower his jeans and expose his cock so she could trap him as he had her…so she could press her face to his hairy groin and do wicked things to his stiffened shaft with her mouth and hands.
His rod was so hard it was elevated slightly, its thick head seeming to point at her. His lightly furred balls were plump as could be, tight against his body. She reached out to touch them. Zeke curled his fingers around her wrist and pulled her into him, his caress filled with tenderness.
He smelled wonderful, musky and male. Liz felt his thundering heart, recognized his need, as desperate as hers to be as close as they possibly could.
Rather than take her where they stood, Zeke gave her a hard, brief hug—clearly restraining himself—then led her down the stone steps into the tub.
Liz sighed at the water’s delicious heat, its gentle eddy, like a thousand fingers massaging her weary body. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until she began to relax. She sank into the water and sprawled on one of the stone benches within it, not caring how shameless she looked. A contented moan spilled from Liz at the delicious warmth. Plumes of steam misted around her, adding to the allure.
Zeke went to his knees between her legs. He brushed several strands of damp hair from her shoulder. She did the same with his. They stared at each other, saying nothing. Words weren’t necessary or even welcome. Drinking each other in was all that mattered.
She adored him so much the emotion was actually painful, in a good and needed way. He’d returned her dignity, hope, her life when she hadn’t thought such a thing was possible.
Liz touched the barely visible scars on his pec from where Carreon’s men had shot him, loathing them for it. She ran her forefinger over the tattoo on his biceps, then stroked the shiny area where the snake’s head had once been. The scar was pink and puckered. If it took the rest of her life, she’d make Carreon pay for injuring that part of Zeke.
Not that she’d been any better, at least in the beginning. Liz recalled how she’d fought Zeke, clawing him when he’d kidnapped her. Those injuries were no more than thin red lines now. She traced them with her fingertips, recalling what he’d told her at the time…what she’d refused to believe.
“Carreon’s going to kill you,” he’d said. “I’ve seen your murder in my mind. If you want to live, you have to come with me.”
His vision hadn’t been wrong. She had died.
Liz stroked his bottom lip. Zeke smiled. So did she, then whispered, “You’re so damn beautiful.”
Never had she seen a more virile male.
Soft laughter poured from him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Look at yourself.” She gestured to the countless mirrors.
Zeke ignored them. “I’d rather look at you.”
Good answer, even though she looked like hell. On a sigh, Liz murmured, “I want more than that. What are you waiting for?”
“I refuse to rush.”
He proved it, kissing her with great gentleness as though they had all the time in the world. His fingers circled her nub, touching and teasing it periodically. Oddly enough, his sweet kiss and restrained touch excited Liz more than if he’d given in to pure lust. Her body tensed with anticipation. She shuddered each time his fingers made contact with her clit. Before long, the tension between her legs became unbearable, an itch she couldn’t scratch, didn’t want to shake. Zeke knew, no doubt reading her reaction. This time, he didn’t let up. He deepened their kiss and rubbed hard, his pace fast. Liz tore her mouth from his, crying out and gulping air, her orgasm billowing through her.
Before she could adequately fill her lungs or quiet down, Zeke settled on the bench at her side, then directed her onto his lap to straddle him.
Still panting from her climax, Liz cradled his cock in her palm and guided the plump head to her slit. Her body welcomed his immediately, needy of his cock. Zeke pushed himself up and into her, sinking deep inside.