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“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” The fingers around her throat flexed lightly, a subtle warning. “I think you’re in a spot of trouble, Olivia. Wanting you has never been an issue for me.” He grinned when her eyes widened. “Breaking you in for my cock is gonna take time, and lots of practice.”
Releasing her neck, he lowered his head and teased the erogenous zone across the top of her shoulder with his beard, making her squeak and wriggle delightfully. Her shocked laugh eased the tension surrounding them, and he felt her relax a fraction beneath him.
With a slow roll of his hips, he eased another inch inside her, stopping when she stiffened and whimpered. “You’ll take all of me. Don’t care if it takes all night, you’ll take me down to the balls.”
Plump lips parted, she sucked in a breath. “What if you get stuck?”
“Atticus is right down the hall,” Zeke deadpanned. “I’m sure he’s got some WD-40 and a crowbar handy, just in case.” Because she looked so aghast at the prospect, he kissed her until she went limp. “It’s called lube, Olivia, and there’s a bottle in the drawer next to us.”
“Oh.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I think my brain is frazzled.”
“It’s about to get worse.” Kissing her again—mainly becausenotdoing so seemed wasteful when her mouth was so close and so tempting—he rocked his hips slowly, drinking down her whimpers and moans like the finest aged scotch.
He wasn’t a sadist as such, but he had to admit that the noises she made, the valiant effort she put forward as she tried to relax for him, was a strange kind of drug. He’d been with subs who insisted they could handle him, then safeworded the moment they saw just how well-endowed he was.
Having a larger sized cock wasn’t always a blessing; mostly, it was a goddamn curse.
Being a porn star wasn’t his ambition, although a few of his bedmates in a previous life were adamant he’d have earned more money than he could spend in three lifetimes. He wasn’t that kind of guy—never had been, never would be.
He craved a woman who accepted him for who he was. His cock was only a fraction of the whole, and it scared more women than it attracted. The brave ones regarded him as a trophy, a prize to be flaunted like a badge of honor. He swore some of them eyed his cock up like it was a lion to be shot, beheaded, and mounted on their goddamn wall.
But not his shy little virgin.
Not his Olivia.
He ran his free hand down her leg, urging her to hook it over his hip. The muscles tremored under his touch, but she obliged. Rewarding her with a quick nip on her bottom lip, he attempted a thrust, relishing the flare of pleasure along his spine, the fist-like pressure of her cunt as he finally filled her completely.
Oh yeah, she was perfect.
Resting his forehead against hers, Zeke smiled. “Still with me, Olivia?”
“Did God put you on earth to destroy women?” she whispered, her voice strained.
“No, Livvy, just to make them drool.”
The chains jerked, her small hands straining to reach him.
Reaching up, he released them. In time, she would learn that he’d take pieces of her when they were in a scene—touch, sight, voice—but this had evolved past an introduction to BDSM. It seemed wrong to deny her the right to touch when he was stripping her of everything and leading her down a dangerous path.
Immediately, her hands dove into his hair, fisting the short locks as a grateful sound hummed in her chest. The muscles sheathing him fluttered as though unsure what to do with the unexpected intruder.
Carefully, watching her eyes, he withdrew to the tip. A slow, firm drive of his hips seated him home again. Shock and pleasure flickered in the golden brown along with a flash of discomfort.
“Okay?”
“I-I’m not sure what to do.”
Because her heartbeat was pulsing thick and fast at the side of her neck, he skimmed his tongue over it, enjoying her quiet moan. She was responsive, beautifully so, and he took satisfaction in knowing she’d only ever be like this with him. Laying claim to her was primitive, primal, but between the letter, her virginity, and the fact she looked at him as though she’d love him even if he ripped her apart and put her back together again…
He was stealing an angel and not giving her back.
“Relax as best you can,” he told her between tastes of her skin. “Listen to what your instincts are telling you.”
A nervous laugh bubbled up and out of her as he began to move in a languorous rhythm. Without taking offence, he took his time, teasing her with shallow thrusts until her hips tentatively rose, trying to take him deeper.
He was partial to a quick learner.
