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I rocked against his face, the pleasure rising in waves as I moved against him. He didn’t break contact with my clit for a moment, his hands prying my thighs apart so I couldn’t squeeze him out, pushing me to that point of no return and taking me over it, leaving me no choice but to become helpless to the pleasure.
When he finally pulled back, I could see his lips glistening with wetness. The sight of him like that, fresh from between my thighs, it sent another shudder of pleasure through my body, and I couldn’t resist leaning down to catch his face in my hands and kiss him properly. Our tongues danced together, and I could taste the musk of my pussy on his tongue. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gone down on me like that, eaten me out like they were truly starving for me. Every other guy I had been with had treated it like something that needed to be gotten out of the way, but Zane. Zane savored the chance to press his mouth to my pussy.
He moved up on top of me, unzipping his pants, and I pulled off his shirt so I could admire his naked body for the first time. Fuck, he was so sexy. A snake tattoo wrapped around the back of his neck, the head of it slithering down his chest and spitting across his toned torso. I traced the shape of it with my fingers before he let himself down on me again, kissing me hard, pushing my knees back so he could press his cock to the entrance of my slit.
I hooked my ankles behind his back and drew him in deep, feeling his cock slip past my entrance with ease and fill me up to the very hilt. I moaned, my head sinking back on to the couch, and he ran his tongue up my throat again before he kissed me once more, an almost tender make-out session that matched with the stillness of his cock thrust all the way inside of me.
But then, finally, he began to move, to really move. I loved the way he fucked me, filling me in deep, satisfying strokes that sent echoes of pleasure all the way through my body.
And when he pulled back, hands planted on either side of my head so he could look into my eyes, I could tell he felt it, too. All the pleasure that was throbbing through me right now, it was passing through him in the same way. His strong body moved on top of me, his muscles flexing beneath his skin. I reached up and planted my hands against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart in time with his movements inside of me, letting the scent and sensation of him take me over entirely.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful,” he groaned as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. I was rocking back against him now, my knees pulled back, ankles hooked behind his back, needing him even deeper. I felt like I couldn’t get close enough to him, and I could tell from the way he was fucking me that he couldn’t get near enough to me, either. We might not have been able to open up to each other with words yet, but with our bodies, that was a different story entirely. It felt almost... easy, being this close to him, even if everything around it was complete and utter madness.
I could feel myself reaching toward another climax as the two of us moved together, our bodies matching each other perfectly as though they had been made to fit together like this. I cupped the back of his head, feeling the stubble of his hair under my fingertips, the rawest thing about him. His forehead was leaning against mine, his breath mingling with mine as we panted into each other’s mouths, and I could see it, scrawled all over his face, how close he was...
“Come inside me,” I pleaded with him. I knew he needed my permission, just like he had done the night before. He needed me to tell him how much I wanted this. For all his hardness, he needed to know that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me, and I wouldn’t hesitate in giving him that.
He bottomed out as soon as the words were out of my mouth, groaning loudly as he pushed into me one last time. I could feel his cock twitching inside of me, that feeling of him filling me with his seed. I could feel the warmth of him inside of me, that closeness that I had never allowed anyone to feel with me before. Because if I was being reckless in all the other ways I could think of... hell, I might as well be reckless in this one, too, right?
It was that feeling that pushed me up and over the edge into my own second climax, my pussy squeezing around him as though my body was pleading with him to stay this close to me. I knew when he pulled back, we would be back to square one again. He would draw away from me, and it would be impossible to guide him back to that point where he would open up once more.
But here, now, as we gasped and held on to one another, we could get lost in that mutual pleasure. And, finally, for a moment, we could be on the same page.
And that had to count for something.
Chapter Twelve – Zane
As I stared at her from across the living room, I wondered what in the name of holy fuck I was doing here.
The two of us, Chelsea and I, had been living in my brother’s apartment for the last week or so and acting like everything was normal, eating together, sleeping together, her head resting on my chest, her hand laced with mine, her fingertips tracing my tattoos until she doze off right there beside me. I didn’t get it. None of it made sense.
But the thought of breaking this spell felt impossible, and I knew that was going to put me in a seriously dangerous position at some point down the line.
Because I was enjoying this. I was enjoying being this close to her - I didn’t let people into my life, and there was a damn good reason for that. It was far, far safer for me to be out here on my own terms, not dealing with the usual shit that came with forming relationships.
I had learned from a young age that my life would be easier if I didn’t rely on anyone else to help me with it. No matter how much I might have wanted to trust that my family would be there for me, my parents had proved to me from the moment I came out of the womb that I would be better off trusting myself and nobody else. Hell, even Liam, my own big brother, had left me to deal with shit on my own terms when I was a teenager, moving out and chasing down money and power any way he could.
But her? She was different. There was something about Chelsea that made me rethink everything I thought I knew about myself, about my life, about the rules I had laid down for myself over the years. She would ask these probing questions, trying to coax out a little more of the truth from me, trying to get me to tell her what was really going on inside my head—about my brother, the details of what had happened to him. I had managed to dodge them pretty well so far, distracting her with a kiss or something more, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I came out with an answer. That was the effect she had on me, leaving me vulnerable, because she had chosen not to run when she had the chance.
And she might have been the first person in my life I could say that about.
She was making herself coffee in my brother’s kitchen right now, moving with a practiced ease around the place like she belonged there. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I knew it was crazy, but there was something so domestic about this, something so comfortable and... intimate. When was the last time I had felt this with a woman? Had I ever felt it at all? All I’d allowed myself until now were one-night stands, these intense flings that burned out as quickly as they started—safer to play it like that than to allow myself to start putting my faith in someone and getting stung in the process.
She glanced back over at me, catching me staring at her.
“What are you looking at?” she demanded as though she needed it explained to her. She was wearing one of my shirts and a pair of her panties and not much else, and God, it was hard not to stare. It wasn’t just that she was physically attractive, though that was a part of it—it was this draw I felt to her that was almost inexplicable, rising up from some place deep within me and forcing me to confront my feelings, whether I liked it or not.
“You,” I shot back, and she grinned, lifting the coffee to her lips and taking a long sip. Closing her eyes, she sighed with pleasure.
“God, that’s good,” she murmured, and she made her way over to the couch to join me. I shook my head when I saw what she had in her cup.
“I don’t know how you have it so black,” I remarked, and she cocked an eyebrow at me.
“You try staying up all night to finish college papers,” she retorted. “Trust me, it’s the most delicious thing in the world then.”
“You went to college?” I replied.
“You sound surprised,” she shot back. “Do I seem that dumb to you?”
