Chapter 30 #2
As the water cooled, Danger pulled the plug, letting it drain. He wrapped a thick, warm towel around her and lifted her, carrying her into his bedroom.
Lying her down on the bed, he dried her body with care. He flashed her a sexy, confident smirk, his eyes locked on hers. Zena squirmed beneath the intensity, her nakedness making her feel vulnerable. He ran his bare palms up and down her skin, making her feel as if he appreciated every inch of her.
Without warning, she felt a cool splash glide down her thighs.
The calming scent of lavender filled the bedroom air.
Sitting up slightly, she saw Danger holding a small bottle of massage oil.
He began rubbing the oil into her legs, his warm palms kneading her muscles before moving up to her stomach, then to her breasts.
He shifted his hands, running his thumbs slowly over her nipples, giving them a playful squeeze. A delicious tingle shot straight down to her core.
“You are so beautiful. Not just your voice but everything about you,” he said in a gravelly baritone, staring into her eyes before drawing a pebbled nipple into his warm mouth.
His tongue lazily traced to the other side of her chest; he latched onto the other breast until Zena melted beneath him, her head flying back in pure ecstasy.
Her pussy pulsed until he parted her thighs. He ran two fingers down her slick, wet slit, using his tongue to taste her. He teased her clit until she shuddered, spilling over his fingers a second time.
When she was slick and begging for him, he pinned her hips to the mattress, threw her legs over his shoulders, and hovered over her. He used the head of his dick to tease her entrance.
“This feels so good!” Zena cried out, her knees buckling against his shoulders as the warmth of his body slid against hers.
“You want it?” Danger asked, grinding his hips teasingly against her.
“Pleaseeee!” Zena moaned.
“Just the tip.”
His mushroom head grazed her slippery opening.
She wanted him inside her so badly, and she got her wish when he slid in, filling her inch by perfect inch.
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes; he was so large and rigid that she could barely take him all in.
Danger delivered long, sensual strokes. Every single thrust was intentional, filled with so much passion that she felt herself falling deeper in love with him with every thrust.
“Ohhhhhhh!” Zena screamed, her nails breaking as she yanked at the bedsheets.
“Tight ass, good ass pussy,” Danger gritted through his clenched teeth, his pace quickening as the friction built.
“Is this pussy mine?” Danger whispered into her ear, still driving deep into her, alternating between slow and fast strokes.
“Yessssss,” she hissed, her pussy tightening around him. Getting the picture now, she realized why they called him Danger—because everything about the way he handled her was beautifully dangerous.
“You love this shit, don’t you?”
Suddenly, an unfamiliar, overwhelming sensation flooded her lower abdomen, and a wave of panic hit her. Her shaky hands shot to his flat stomach, trying to slow down his relentless pace. “Wait, baby… stop, I think I have to pee.”
Tate had never made her feel like this.
“Fuck that. Let that shit go,” Danger said, ignoring her protest as he locked his hands beneath her thighs, lifting her hips higher and driving in deeper. “Cum all over this dick.”
He smothered her whimpers with a rough kiss, refusing to let her pull away.
“No… I can’t—” Zena couldn’t even think straight, the pressure building into something explosive.
“It’s not pee, baby. Just let it happen. You deserve it,” he whispered against her jaw, his thrusts becoming short, hard, and frantic. “Don’t you want me to make you happy?”
Zena nodded frantically. Reaching the peak of the roller coaster, her body betrayed her control. She gasped, her back arching off the mattress as a powerful, uncontrollable wave of release erupted from her, soaking the sheets beneath them.
“Good girl. You made me so proud,” he murmured against her lips, watching her climax. Danger delivered a few more deep strokes before he slowed and released himself deep inside her.
After a few quiet seconds, Danger pulled out. He got up and returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp washcloth, gently cleaning her. By the time he was done, Zena’s eyelids felt like lead. She had just closed her eyes when he nudged her shoulder.
“Nah, come on. Wake up.”
“Danger, please… I don’t have anything left in me,” she groaned, desperate for sleep, her body spent.
“I know, sleepyhead.” he chuckled softly, scooping her into his arms. “Let’s go get into my bed. Unless you want to sleep in the wet spot.”
The next morning, Zena stepped out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam trailing behind her. Wrapped in a white towel, she searched her overnight bag for something warm, but her light packing had left her with nothing but basic loungewear.
When she walked into the bedroom, she froze.
On the edge of the bed sat a black gift box and a shoebox.
Inside, she found a matching purple thermal set, a sleek black North Face snowsuit, and black snow boots.
Checking the tags, she felt a warmth swell in her chest. He’d gotten every size perfect, down to her shoes.
Consideration really was the highest form of love. Danger was always intentional.
By the time she finished getting ready and walked into the living room, Danger was already dressed in an all-black ski outfit, sipping black coffee while clearing out a few emails on his iPad before turning things over to Yasmin.
“Good morning,” Zena said, spinning in a slow circle to show off the gear. “You like?”
Danger nodded, standing up from the barstool. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a solid embrace before pressing a few slow kisses to her forehead. “I hope you can ride as good as you look right now.”
An hour later, they pulled into the snow-draped lot of the Savage Family Resort. After gathering their equipment, they hopped onto the chairlift, rising above a breathtaking canopy of white-capped pines.
Zena immediately whipped out her phone. “Take a selfie with me.”
“I don't do selfies,” Danger muttered, looking away.
“Come on, Dmitri, please!” She poked her bottom lip out.
“One. That’s it.”
Zena grinned, pulling down her snow goggles and then his. She snapped a single shot of them at the peak of the slope, miles of endless white stretching out behind them.
Once they cleared the lift, Danger guided her toward the beginner flats where a yellow sign read Lessons.
“Hi! I’ll be your instructor today. I’m Isadora,” a friendly voice called out. A young Black woman who looked to be about the same age as Zena slid over to them, her honey-brown locs pulled up into a neat pineapple bun.
“Oh my god, I love your name,” Zena said, buckling her helmet.
“Thank you! My parents swore they were doing something special with the Greek mythology thing.” Isadora giggled.
Danger raised an eyebrow, sizing her up. “You ain’t gonna get my girl killed on this mountain, are you?”
“I’ve been doing this for fifteen years, so you’re in good hands.”
“Fifteen years? You’ve been snowboarding since you were five?” Danger asked, his tone skeptical but curious.
“Actually, yes. My parents own this resort,” Isadora said proudly. “They practically put my twin brother and me on boards right out of the womb. He’s a professional snowboarder now—Isadore Savage. We just call him Izzy.”
Danger pulled out his phone, looked up the name on Instagram, and hit follow.
“Your parents really ate with those names,” Zena said.
Isadora walked them through the fundamentals, explaining the heel edge, toe edge, and how to maintain control through the trails. Danger stood back, letting Isadora focus entirely on Zena.
Once they hit the bunny slope, her dignity evaporated.
Zena fell at least a hundred times, so hard and so often that Isadora eventually pulled out a pink turtle butt-pad and matching knee guards.
Danger spent the next hour cracking up, taking videos on his phone, and pulling her out of snowbanks.
But by the end of the hour, Zena managed to glide a few consecutive yards without wiping out.
“You’re getting the hang of it!” Isadora cheered, checking her watch. “I’ve got to run to my next group, but before I go, you two make a beautiful couple. I love Black love.”
As Isadora waved and slid away, Zena smirked, turning to Danger. “Black love, huh? When did I agree to be your girl?”
Danger stepped in close, the rich scent of his smoky cologne cutting through the winter air as he gripped her waist. “What part of this is confusing to you, Zena? You’re mine.”
“And Chyna?”
“I already handled that the first night we came here. We are done.”
Zena didn't argue. She just stood on her tippy toes and kissed him.