Chapter 10 #3
“You chose me,” he said again, as if he could read her mind. She was already pretty confident that he could. “You know me well enough by now to know that if you told me to leave you alone I would have. Instead, you took my hand.”
He took one of her chained wrists and moved it toward him, so he could kiss her fingers. It seemed so oddly… courtly and romantic, here in this bed where they had already done unspeakable things, and would do so many more.
But it still made her melt inside. And everywhere else.
He settled his hands on her hips, shifted her up, and then lowered her with an electric intensity down the length of his cock. He watched her take him inside her body, every hard and hungry inch.
And then he grinned that hard, beautifully merciless grin of his as she came all around him. Immediately.
At some point, he took off those nipple clamps and the sensation that charged back into those nipples gone numb, made her scream, and come even harder.
She didn’t know when in all of that he released her wrists from the chains. The next thing she knew—still shuddering and lost in the grip of all that seismic glory that he had set off inside of her—he was between her legs, coming over her on the bed and holding her down with his hands.
And when he began to move, it was something else entirely.
They had fucked so many times. She assumed the rest of their lives would be spent finding new and improved ways to fuck each other silly.
But this was something else.
He was still Zachary. He gave her his weight. He kept his rhythm deep and hard. He held her arms up above her head and when she tested his grip, she couldn’t move. All of that was delightful. Deliberate.
But the look on his face was new.
“Put your legs around me,” he told her.
And when she did, it was like everything that separated them melted away.
It was like they were one. No end, no beginning. Just the blue of his eyes and the deep hard reach of his cock. The endless melting softness of her pussy and the way he let her clench her legs around him so that they moved in unison.
And when he told her to come, he did too, flooding her with so much scalding heat that her climax went on and on and on.
When Romily slowly found her way back down to earth again, he was holding her in his arms and kissing her softly. All over her face and then down her body, pausing at her breasts to inspect her nipples. She knew he was making sure that the clamps hadn’t stayed on too long.
And when he was satisfied, he also made sure to try his teeth on them. Because of course he knew that they were sensitive.
She nuzzled up against him, the way she liked to do when they woke up together in the predawn hours.
Before he went down to open his gym for the diehard 5 AM crew.
He was always hard when he woke up and she was always happy to assist, and the first fuck of the day was always wild and hard and breathtaking.
And afterward, it was like this. She wouldn’t use the word cuddly out loud, only because she was certain her stern, beautiful Viking would take against it.
But she loved it. She loved every part of this. She loved how he pushed her. She loved the way he made her face herself. She loved that he demanded her trust, and never betrayed it, or her.
Her therapist had expressed some hesitation about Romily embarking on a relationship like this, that pushed so many boundaries that must certainly bring up things she’d prefer to forget. That seemed a little too close to things that had happened to her that didn’t end quite so orgasmically.
But to Romily, there was no comparison.
Joseph had been a monster. There was no other way to put it.
Being with Zachary was like an exorcism. Somehow, she’d never felt more like herself. She didn’t wear masks. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. He was the most forthright person she’d ever met.
And he was so beautiful he made her heart hurt inside her chest.
She lifted her face to his and she smoothed her hand over the harsh planes of his face. She let his beard gently abrade her palms.
“I hope this is okay to say,” she said quietly. Softly. “But Zachary. I’m so in love with you.”
She watched, not sure if she was holding her breath or merely frozen still, as his blue eyes blazed.
And then that mouth of his, so stern when he wanted it to be and so wicked when he used it against her in so many delectable ways, curved.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in years,” he told her, his hand a fist in her hair. “And not a moment too soon, baby. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”
He didn’t go off into a flowery speech, because he didn’t need to dress things up.
He didn’t promise her the sun and the moon and the stars because he preferred to deliver them in bed, and often.
He didn’t just mirror back the things she said to him, so it seemed like they were in tune—she wouldn’t fall for that again.
She’d never known Zachary to say anything unless he meant it.
Which meant that if he said he loved her, he really did.
Romily felt as if he’d made her brand-new. Shiny and bright and happy .
Then he leaned in and kissed her in his typically filthy, addictive way.
“I think we should celebrate,” he told her then. “And I know how. I think it’s time we go get your shit.”