FIERCED 2: A stepbrother Romance (5 page)

He rolls back in the sand, again taking me with him as though we're welded and now I'm straddling not his cock but his mouth. My juices are pouring out of my crevasse and he laps them up, thirsty as a dehydrated desert wanderer. My knees in the soft sand, stretched as wide as they'll go so my pussy is spread across his face and his tongue reaches deep into my tunnel.

I grind my glistening desire harder into his face, feeling my slit rub his nose and I moan louder as flashes of white light burst behind my eyelids. I tug on my nipples, trying to free the screaming ecstasy gathered in the hard pellets. He reaches down to strum his thumb across the bullet point of my clit and now I'm bucking and writhing on Rocco's perfect face, gasping for air, ready to plummet over the edge.

He knows of course. He's a master at this and as he takes me over, forcing me to come all over his stubbled chin, he loosens his pants and sets his massive shaft free. I catch a glimpse of the most perfect hard blade, which I'm almost delirious with yearning to have buried in me. As he rolls us back over and in one move locates my dripping entrance and slides all the way in, filling and stretching me so I gasp loud. The sound seems to echo across the desert and I thrash around in the sand, lost in total burning desire.

“I can't stop,” he groans. He pushes his dick all the way to the end of my chasm so the head rotates into my cervix and tingles fly through my skin.

“I don't want you to stop,” I whisper moan. My fingers feel tiny hanging on to the firm curves of his bicep. “Ever.”

He pulls all the way out until his wide head swirls in the juices pooling at my entrance then rams all the way up to the hilt with another throaty bellow.

“You feel fucking incredible gripping my dick like that. Don't ever stop holding me inside you,” he grunts.

“Not ever,” I squeak, unable to speak from the power of his thrust sawing in and out.

“Good. Because I want to be deep inside you like this forever.”

My walls wrap around him tight, squeezing to pull him in deeper as erotic shivers tingle down through my thighs. My feet suddenly go numb and my climax rushes back up my legs, gathering steam through my vulva to explode like a spark fountain. Waves of clenching pleasure floods through every limb and at that moment Rocco rises up on his haunches like a lion and lets out a roar. A great gush of his nectar fills me and he falls back down to cover me with his massive torso.

We lie there, me crushed beneath him, panting for breath. I feel his heart thounding through his chest wall into mine and it makes my sated nipples peak with pleasure.

“Fuck Lise, you drained me,” he moans. “I've never known it be like that. You are freaking incredible.”

I wrap the back of his beautiful head in both my fingers and hold him close to me until our hearts have caught up. Then he rolls us over yet again so I'm curled up tiny enough in his arm to fit neatly against his chest. He strokes my cheek, twirling a tendril of hair in his fingers until I fall asleep.

Chapter FIVE

Sometime in the night I wake up still curled into his rock outcrop arm. I trail my fingers across the outline of his chest, rising like a dune. His skin is smooth as new leather and feels unbreakable. Although I can't see in the dark, I trace around the geometric Aztec patterns of his tattoo. Deep yearning makes me shiver with need and the desert night chill. Rocco pulls me closer although he hasn't shifted an inch, leaving me unaware that he wasn't sleeping either.

“You're awake?”

“I told you, I ain't letting anyone harm you.”

“I want you.”

“You got me.”

But he knows what I want and when I take his stunningly perfect prick in my hand, so wide my fingertips barely reach around the circumference, he's already steel solid ready for me. He fucks me again and twice more that night. We can't get enough of each other even though every time is more satisfying than I'd ever have thought possible, it's like it's our last night on earth and we need to express every minute sensation to each other.

We sleep a while, wake seemingly at the same instant and reach for the other. As dawn rises pale golden, he takes me again. Still powerful in every move, driving his cock all the way inside as though claiming me as his for eternity, as though he'd like to climb all the way inside my skin. But the rough aggression changes into deeper tenderness as he explores every part of my body, at least for now.

With the light, he stands me before him and carefully puts my clothes back on my body. He trails his strong fingertips across each bruise and scrape, kissing each one. On his knees in the sand, as he holds out my pants for my feet to enter, I cup my hands around his head. He kisses my mound one last time. I adore the feel of his skull in my palms. If only I could hold it this close to me every night.

Having him between my legs as we ride back to the camp is a different kind of bliss. My pussy no longer craving and begging for him desperately, without hope. I'm completely warm and content. Feeling him fill my arms and graze through the fabric across my swollen sore open chasm now is a kind of claiming, acknowledgment that we belong to each other.

The jubilation at the camp when we ride in is like we're victors returning with spoils. But we have no treasure and I suddenly remember that my precious camera is buried out there in the Sahara.

“You found her?” Tenley says, not entirely pleased. Is it mean to suspect she'd prefer I remained abducted?

“She'd have fought off the AQIM all by herself. You should have seen her,” Rocco says and a grimace crosses Tenley's perfect features. “Go with the doc so she can check you out,” he tells me.

“No I'm fine. I've got to look for my camera, I dropped it out there some place.”

“Lisa, I said go get yourself checked out.”

I glare back at him, standing my ground.

“You've got broken skin and sand could have gotten in.” His tone allows for zero comeback and I follow along behind the doctor as reluctantly as she leads me to the medical tent. I sit on a makeshift stool as she cleans my open wounds, no longer intimidated by her doll-like body.

Does she feel the change in the balance of power between us? She must because she makes various probing forays into discovering what happened between Rocco and I all alone and exposed for a whole night in the desert.

“It must have been cold out there with no safeguard,” she says.

“Don't worry, I had all the protection I needed.”

“I guess. Rocco's a wild man.”

“He can be sometimes.”

“As long as I've known him he's been an unbreakable bad boy. But now -”

She leaves the sentence wide open. I wait on the pinnacle edge of tension but she says no more and seems to regret saying even that much.

I don't even dislike her any more, I'm so happy. And with every grain of sand she wipes away, I recall how they got there, into every crease of my body and a smile spreads across my face to accompany the interior glow of happiness.

And then the bad boy appears with my camera in his fists. It rips me apart how he's smiling so proud, almost like a little boy as he hands it over. Tenley is frowning openly and I have to repress the desire to leap up and hurl myself at him in delight. And then I can't control myself and do it anyway, watching her scowl over his strong shoulder. Yeah, he's mine now.

“You found it?” I squeal.

“It might be wrecked,” he says.

I open the lens cap and it creaks with the embedded grains of sand.

“Oh yeah. But the card will likely be readable,” I say. “I got some amazing shots of the militants.”

“Who would be brave enough to shoot while they're being jacked?” Rocco says and I glow with the admiration in his tone. “You're a wild woman.”

“Right back at you,” I say.

My confidence is high until right after I've gorged down my plate of food at dinner. I'm so ravenous it tastes as delicious as any gourmet meal. Tenley's sitting tight beside Rocco, still touching his arm or his thigh whenever she can find the most paltry excuse. On his other side, I give him a caress now and then myself. Letting my fingers trail along the inside of his thigh as I remove my hand with a flourish. That should let her clearly know who's on the intimate track with Romeo Rocco.

Then, what the fuck, he says goodnight to me with a chaste kiss on the cheek and sends me to a tent with the womenfolk for the night. What the fucking fuck? Even though I am exhausted from barely sleeping a second between the high peaks of constant excitement last night, I cannot fall off. I lie on my back, on a pallet on the floor covered by a holey scrap of fabric and stare at the stars. Less magical than they were the previous outing.

I fucking hate him.

He's obviously with his doc right now, spending the night in her private tent and giving her all sorts of chat about how I mean nothing to him. He's probably saying he had to come rescue me because of my father and the American government. I don't know but I'm sure he's got every pathetic reason to get her back where he wants her. How dare he? How could he drop me like this after all we were to each other throughout last night? Not just one time but over and over like he'd never be able to get his fill of me.

Nassima reaches out to hold my hand from her own bed pile.

“OK?” she manages to say like it's the hardest sentence ever constructed.

“Yes OK.” I say and give her hand a squeeze.

When I emerge from the tent in the morning, he's there chatting with the group of women already at their vegetable hacking duty.

“Afternoon,
Principessa
,” he says. I suddenly remember why I hated him so much before. It all comes pouring back into my memory, obliterated by lust for his gorgeous body. The arrogance, the insulting tone of voice. His entitlement and cocksure superiority.

“Fuck you,” I say. “How much longer are you planning on putting me through this hell?”

His face betrays shock but he doesn't react to my ire.

“I can't believe you're already uptight again,” he says. “You must be insatiable.” His laugh gathers a corresponding titter from his group of female fans.

“I am not uptight. I just don't care for being used and dropped at your convenience just because something more interesting comes along.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He shakes his head in the way that reads 'Crazy bitch'. “Have you been bitten by a spider and lost your reason?”

“No. I just don't appreciate being dumped in the women's tent while you party all night long.”

“Welcome to my world,” he snaps. And I know I should drop it. But I can't. Rage is a monster that once woken is difficult to push back inside its cave.

“I don't want any part of your ugly world,” I snarl. “You're selfish and a user and you disgust me.”

I can tell I've wounded him but his face hardens over immediately. Then he grabs my wrist and wrenches me across the camp's path until we reach his bike. I stand dumb as he mounts then orders me to follow. Where are we going?

“Get on,” he repeats.

I can hardly refuse although I want to. What choice do I have? Stay there and hope that the growler bear will take me back home some time?

I climb on slowly behind him and Tenley comes running from the camp.

“Rocco, you aren't leaving already?” she screeches.

What, your five times last night weren't satisfying?

“I've had enough,” he explodes.

“But you always stay with us for weeks.” Her statement is mostly directed at me and I feel the full thrust of blame.

“I'll be back soon, Doc,” he says. “Gotta get the
Principessa
back to Daddy.”

“Oh. I get it.” She smiles in camaraderie. “Be safe then.”

She touches her fingertips to her lips for him and I want to rip her hair out. I'm so furious at them both, but mostly at him for taking advantage of my body. Women are nothing but playthings for his pleasure.

Rocco kicks off the bike and we ride through the scorching midday. Each time we stop for water or for him to stretch his shoulder blades, he remains tight lipped and deep in thought. He grunts a one word answer when I ask where we are.

“Tunisia.” Then turns away to fix some imaginary defect on the bike.

When we reach the coast and board the boat, still he says nothing as though I'm not even there. Invisible again.

We have to share a cabin but he falls asleep immediately in his bunk. I know he's passed out on purpose to avoid conversation. Rocco isn't a man for 'the talk', that much I know about him. Good – let him take as long as he needs to consider how poorly he treats women.

I lie awake for yet another night. In the morning I'm half deranged from lack of sleep but Rocco says barely two words for another twenty four hours.

Asshole
. Refusing to admit what a selfish prick he truly is.

As we come into the port, back in Europe, I'm hit by intense sadness. It seems strange to be back already in such a different world. I wish we'd stayed in the camp longer. I miss the women, the exuberant kids and my new little friend Nassima. More than anything I wish Rocco would stop hating me.

“Listen, I'm sorry I over-reacted back there.”

“Yeah, me too. I guess I made a mistake.”

I know he means about us. He wishes he'd never got close to me.

“I can't help it. Any girl would be livid the way you behave.”

He looks at me like I just turned green.

“Oh right? Like rescuing you from kidnapping, protecting you with my life, sharing my body and soul with you. Yeah any girl would be furious about that.”

“I mean abandoning me with the native women while you spend the night with your pal the doc.”

He laughs and shakes head in disbelief.

“You think I was fucking Tenley? After what you and I had together? Thanks for the low opinion of me. Actually, I was fucking miserable without you in my arms. I sat up most of the night, drinking with the guys because I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

“Why did you dump me and leave me with the women then?” I whisper, feeling like a bigger fool than ever.

“I did that for you, obviously.” His eyes dagger into me like how can I not see that. “Because I figured you'd maybe want to come back there with me sometime and not have everyone looking at you like you're a whore for sleeping with a man you aren't married to. Or did you not notice the different cultural attitude in North Africa?”

“I, I guess I forgot,” I say.

Inside I'm shaking my head in disbelief as profound as Rocco's. How could I have been so dumb as to make all those assumptions? Why did I act out and let my temper flare like that instead of remaining calm? I could talk to him about anything except my jealousy about the pretty doctor swarmed me.