Chapter 9

 

Zach

 

Moira is silent on the ride home, but I can feel anger and confusion rolling off her in waves. I, however, have never felt calmer. I don’t even think my pulse sped up once as I tried to kill that motherfucker for touching Moira when she clearly didn’t want his attention.

He’d be dead too… right now, if Moira hadn’t begged me to stop. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a woman beg me to do something, and I didn’t hesitate for a moment. The terror in her voice, the panic in her eyes… I released my hold on that douche—another new, favorite word of mine—and it was over.

Mark my words, though. I guarantee you Michael won’t be sniffing around Moira anymore.

The drive home is short, and I follow Moira into her house. I brace myself, because I know that she’s going to have some harsh words for me. I hope she treads lightly, though, because I’m not in a mood to hear it. I gave Moira one concession already by putting my murderous rage aside for her plea. But she’s not going to get much more from me tonight.

After setting her purse down on the kitchen table, she walks into the living room and sits down on the couch with a sigh. The move causes her dress, which had been resting at mid-thigh, to creep up her legs, and my eyes can’t help but take in the long expanse of creamy flesh.

“Zach… we need to talk about what just happened at the nightclub,” Moira says tentatively, and my eyes move up her body to rest on her face. It’s grim, determined, and filled with censure.

“What’s to talk about? I let him go,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders as I lean up against the wall that borders her living room and back hallway.

Moira’s eyebrows furrow inward, completely dismayed over my disinterest in this conversation. She stands from the couch in one quick push and stalks up to me. Her face is angry, but there is still a bit of fear there. Not fear of me, but fear for me. I can tell the prospect of me getting in trouble over that incident has her rattled.

Pushing a finger into my chest, Moira says, “You cannot go around attacking people because they do something you don’t like. You most certainly can’t try to kill someone for putting his hands on me. Do you understand—?”

“I most certainly can kill someone for putting his hands on you,” I cut in over her tirade, one hand flying up to grab her by the back of the neck. I give her a slow shake, so she listens to me well. “I am my own man. Don’t ever forget that, Moira.”

“Zach… you can’t kill someone. There are consequences, not only in the law, but also on your own soul. Taking a life is something that is irrevocable. You’re a good man… I think that would shred you—forget about what that would mean for your future. Prison… being locked away… no freedom.”

Pulling Moira in, I bring her face in tighter to me, causing her to go up on her tiptoes just a bit. “I know what it means to kill someone. I’ve done it before and never had a moment’s regret, so hold the lecture, Dr. Reed.”

“What? You’ve killed someone?” she asks in disbelief, and far more fear in her voice than I want to hear. That dismays and pisses me off, all at the same time.

“Let’s just call it another cultural difference. My tribe warred with the Matica for years. We raided each other, and blood was shed. It was our own form of justice and when I return, I’ll do it again.”

Moira’s face pales over my admission, and my grip tightens on her. I wanted to shock her, to remind her that I am still more animal than human, at least when you compare our societies. But I don’t want to disgust her. I don’t want her to look at me with shame or disappointment.

“Let me tell you about the last man I killed,” I tell her softly.

“No… I don’t want to hear it,” she says, trying to pull from my hold.

“You’ll listen,” I command with another squeeze and pull her in to me just a little closer. Her breasts lightly touch my chest, and a surge of longing courses through me. I put it aside though, at least until Moira understands my lack of civility. “About a month before you arrived in Caraica to collect me, the men in my tribe made a raid on the Matica. It was a rescue-revenge raid. One day when we were away on a hunt, ten of the Matica snuck into our village. They raped some of our women and stole three of our male children, killing the boys’ mother, who was trying to protect the young ones with her life.”

“I don’t want to hear this, Zach,” Moira says.

“Maybe not, but you need to hear it. We planned our revenge carefully. It wasn’t just to retrieve what they had stolen from us, but it was to punish them for their assault on our women and children. We went in with the idea of killing in return.”

“That’s wrong,” Moira says, her eyes wide.

“Maybe by your standards, but by ours, it was the right thing to do. In the end, we not only got our children back, but we paid them back tenfold for the lives they took from us. I watched with pride as my adoptive brother, Kaurlo, retrieved his stolen sons and killed the men that took them and killed his wife.”

Moira shudders in my arms, but I see a tiny bit of understanding now in her eyes.

Leaning forward to whisper in her ear, I ask, “Want to know who I killed?”

She gives a tiny shake of her head, but it doesn’t stop me.

“When I walked into the village, I found Tukaba staked out in the dirt by her hands and feet. She was naked and had blood all over her thighs from the repeated rapes she had endured. She was stolen from her Paourno tribe where she had been raised. She was half dead when I cut her loose, but she was strong enough to let me carry her down the line of captured Matica. We had sat them in the dirt in front of a longhouse, their hands tied behind their backs. She identified the men that raped her. My tribe brothers and I unloaded all of our arrows into them until they were dead, and Tukaba was avenged as well.”

A tiny tear leaks out of one of Moira’s eyes, but I also see something new on her face. Compassion for what I told her about Tukaba which I hope means some acceptance of my deeds.

“Sometimes I forget how very different your existence is from mine,” Moira says with a soft voice. “You’ve acclimated here so well, that I forget how hard it must be for you to live a life here while your entire character is built from those experiences.”

Her words slam into me in a calming wave of validation because gone now is the censure and misunderstanding. She may not agree with my tribes’ need for revenge and justice, or even my own personal need to assuage my anger of wrongdoings. But she understands at a very basic level that the way I led my life was perfectly normal… at least for me.

“I know you think me ignorant of your ways, Moira, but I’m not. I’ve seen enough—read enough—to know right from wrong in this culture. It doesn’t mean that I’ll abide by your right, though.”

Moira nods, despite the way I’m still gripping her by her neck. “But promise me you won’t do anything like that again. Please don’t put yourself in jeopardy like that.”

I give her a lethal smile, tempered with just a tiny bit of understanding for her plea, because although I understand her position, I can’t agree to it. “I’ll agree to nothing of the sort, Moira. I’ll never let anyone… in particular, or a society in general… control my actions. It’s one of the main reasons I want to return to my village… because I have absolute freedom to do as I wish.”

Moira opens her mouth to argue against that, but I pull her in the rest of the way, until her entire body falls into mine. Leaning forward, I place my lips at her temple and graze them there briefly. In a low, rumbling voice, I tell her, “In fact, I would love to drag you back with me, so you’d be available to my whim whenever I wanted you. I’d never let you wear a stitch of clothing again, and your knees and your pussy would be so sore from the working I’d give them every day. But then I’d put my tongue back between your legs and soothe away every bit of the sting I had left behind.”

A rush of breath pours out from Moira’s mouth and fans across my collarbone, even as a tiny shiver courses through her body. She’s as turned on by the image I just painted as I am by having created it.

I feel her body melting, her resistance only hanging on by a thread. I could have her about ten different ways to Sunday, but there is only one way in which I want her now. I press forward.

“Get on your knees,” I demand, because I know that she wants me to force her at this point. It’s what she wants, I’m sure of it.

“No,” she whispers, and I smile on the inside. Her tone says otherwise.

I give her neck a soft squeeze again to remind her that she’s standing here pushed up against me only because I demand it so.

“Don’t ever say ‘no’ to me again,” I growl at her. Using my grip on her neck, I pull her back from my body and turn her away from me. Giving a slight push, I urge her downward and almost want to cry out in victory when she gives me not an ounce of fight as she starts to lower herself.

I let my knees bend and lower myself down to the floor with her. Her knees hit first, then my mine, and I continue pushing her forward until her cheek rests against the carpet and her ass hovers just in front of my restrained cock.

“You remember the first time you saw me?” I whisper as I squeeze her neck again gently.

“Yes.”

“It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You wanted me to fuck you that way, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want it now?”

“God yes,” she moans, and victory and lust surge through me. My cock, which has been getting progressively harder, now pushes brutally rigid against the tight denim covering my crotch.

“Tell me then,” I command her, completely enjoying the way her resolve is unraveling before me.

“Tell you what?” she asks on a stuttering breath.

“Tell me all about the first time you saw me. Tell me a story, sweet Moira, and then I’ll decide whether to give you what you want.”

Moira tells me then, in a rush of capitulated words, how she watched me across the firelight, fucking Tukaba and wishing it was her body underneath me. She tells me her blood was on fire, and she could scarcely breathe because the way I was staring at her was sucking the oxygen from her body. In a low moan, she tells me she could actually feel my cock between her legs and she whispers with no shame, only regret, that she could feel my orgasm as my body shuddered in release.

“That’s a good story, Moira,” I tell her, trying to keep my words confident and true, so she doesn’t know just how close I am to losing control with her.

“It’s how I remember it,” she says with a burst of boldness and, even though I’m aiming for her surrender, I find I like that Moira isn’t going down without at least a little fight in her.

“You wanted me then, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispers softly.

“Just as you want me now?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly the same way.”

“Exactly the same,” she says with assurance and I know, at this moment, she’s mine.

I bring my free hand up and grasp the bottom of her dress, dragging it up the backs of her thighs and over the rounded firmness of her ass. Slowly, I reveal the loveliest, sexiest pair of white lace underwear I could have ever imagined on a woman. Another new favorite word enters my repertoire—lingerie.

When her ass and lower back are completely devoid of her dress, I tell her. “Before I give it to you, tell me one more thing.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” she demands of me. I squeeze her neck because it’s a little too impudent for my tastes right now. She pushes back against my hand slightly, and I tighten my grip more.

“I want you to tell me what the greatest thing is you’ve learned about me so far since you took me from my home.”

Her upper back rises slightly, not from any fight left in her, but because she inhales deeply. When she lets it all out, she tells me with conviction and a hint of sadness, “I learned that you… Zacharias Easton… are an uncivilized man.”

“Yes,” I tell her in praise, and my fingers go under the lace edge of her panties. “You learned well.”

Moira is silent for a moment, and then, “Zach?”

“Hmmm?”

“Teach me more,” she whispers.

My heart seems to almost leap from my chest over the plaintive tone of her voice. Grasping the lace of her panties, I drag them over hips… her ass, and pull them down the backs of her thighs. “Oh, baby… I’m going to teach you how good it’s going to feel to be fucked into submission by an uncivilized man.”

She gives a soft moan of anticipation. When her panties are pushed down to the backs of her knees, I lean to the side so I can get a glimpse of the backside of her pussy. Its flowery petals are dewy looking. I reach down and, for the first time ever, push my finger inside of a woman’s warmth.

Hot breath hisses out from between my clenched teeth. “You’re so wet.”

“Oh, God,” Moira moans, pushing her hips backward.

“Don’t move,” I order her as I pull my finger back slightly and push it back in. She stays absolutely still but moans again.

Releasing my hold on her neck and removing my hand from between her legs, I quickly take off my shirt because I don’t want anything impeding the view of her backside. I quickly unbutton my jeans and unzip them, going carefully because I’m swollen so hard, there’s barely any room left. Giving a quick push of material, I slide the denim and my underwear down past my hips and free my cock.

Pearly fluid is leaking from the head and, using my hand to guide myself, I rub it over one of her ass cheeks, creating a glistening path of over her pale skin. “I’m wet for you, too.”

“Please,” Moira begs.

I bend over and grip her by the back of her neck again. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me, Zach.”

“It’s coming,” I promise her.

I guide my swollen shaft to her pussy, rubbing the head through her wet folds. The sensation is overwhelming, causing a tightening of my muscles from head to toe. I lean my hips in slightly and push into her just an inch.

She’s so fucking tight, but her slickness sucks me in just a little further. I watch as Moira’s ass cheeks clench in anticipation, and her fingers dig into the plush carpeting. Now that I’m lined up perfectly, I release my hold on my cock and grip her hip. I wait for just a moment, relishing in the graceful lines of Moira’s back and the way her fiery hair is spread all over the carpet. Her face is turned to the side, and her profile is exquisite. Eyes slightly open, her lips turned upward in a pleasurable smile. I’ll never forget this as long as I live.

With one coordinated move, I pull back on her hips and slam my own forward, lodging my cock in deep, my pelvis pressed flush against her ass.

A groan tears out of my throat because that first feeling of her pussy completely enveloping me is almost more than I can bear. Moira gives a soft cry, and her eyes squeeze shut.

I stay still for a moment, but then Moira contracts her inner muscles around me, squeezing my shaft deliciously.

“Fuck,” I grunt out and, in an involuntary reaction, my hips pull back and I slam back forward again, trying to replicate that feeling.

Moira moans long and low, and I want to prolong that sound, so I pull back and slam forward again. But then I still once more, taking a deep breath and trying to get back my bearings. I can’t lose control. Normally, my couplings are slow and steady, a forceful dance to assert my dominance and show the strength of my reserve.

I prepare to pull back slowly, so I can ease into her again and torture her exquisitely.

“Zach?” Moira says softly.

“Yes?”

“Don’t hold back on me,” she says with need. “Give it all to me.”

Oh, fuck.

My body trembles over those words and the craving that seeps out of her. This is supposed to be about me… about my dominion and authority. But her words cause my body to clench tightly with the need to burst forth in a supreme, hardcore fucking. I squeeze my eyes shut, envisioning a slow mating, but Moira slays me again.

“Please, Zach.”

“Fuck,” I hiss out at her and pull my hips back, slamming into her so hard that she scoots across the carpet a few inches and my balls slam almost painfully against the backs of her thighs.

Moira cries out, “Yes,” and it’s all over for me.

An animalistic need courses through me. Tightening my grip on her neck, I start repetitively slamming into her, my skin slapping against hers so hard it sounds like thunderclaps. I look down at my cock tunneling in and out of her slick pussy and feel the last vestiges of my control snap.

I fuck her mercilessly, fearful that I might be tearing her up from the inside out, but unable to stop myself. My body lurches into her, my chest heaves, and my cock drills her hard.

Moira tries to writhe underneath of me, but I hold her tight. If not for her moans of pleasure, I would be worried I was hurting her, but I’m not sure anything could stop this tempest that I’m unleashing on her body.

Deep, penetrating thrusts.

Skin slapping… her warm, wet muscles massaging me to near madness. The smell of our mutual arousal coating my senses.

As I heave my body against hers, I can’t help the grunting noises that start to come out of me… reminding me that at this moment, I’m more animal than human.

I fuck her hard, throwing every bit of reserve and control out the window.

Moira’s soft pants of “Yes, yes, yes,” fuel me on as I drill into her over and over again.

Suddenly, Moira’s entire body spasms and her inner walls clench onto me in a warm, wet vice as I realize she’s orgasming. She screams so loudly that I know her throat will be sore tomorrow, and I feel my own balls pull upward tightly, prepared to rocket my seed deep into her body.

I release my grip on her neck and bring that hand to her other hip. Angling both of my thumbs inward, I spread her ass cheeks apart, just so I can get a better look at the way my cock, which is wet with her desire, speeds in and out of her with frantic need.

My own climax starts boiling, and a warm flush spreads across my skin. My head spins as I slam into her again and again, until finally I’m firing off into her. My entire body falls onto her back, pushing her flat to the floor as I start to come. I have no control over myself. Even as wave after wave of pleasure courses through me, my hips continue to pump at her backside, my cock only able to make shallow purchase but still moving within her until I’m absolutely and completely milked dry.

Even after I’m empty, tiny spasms continue to run up and down my spine, in what must be the longest, hardest orgasm I’ve ever had in my entire life.

I never knew.

Never knew it could be this way.

Never knew that losing control could be so fucking satisfying.