Chapter 12 #2
I grip the shirt I was blindly looking at, needing it for stability as his smooth voice fills my ears like the sweetest song. His heat and grip remind me how much I want to feel it all over, his soft lips grazing my ear teasingly as he speaks.
“Sweetheart?” he purrs.
“Jelly,” I blurt, needing him to stop or I won’t be able to resist.
He’s still for a moment, then his bright laughter flows free like music and his head leans against my back. When his laughter tapers off, he steps away, and I turn. “Jelly?” he repeats, a wide smile on his beautiful face.
I shrug. “I like jelly. It’s fancy and showy, pretty and tasty, and . . . it shines like you.”
“Tasty, huh? How would you know I’m tasty? Do you want to find out?” he purrs, stepping closer again.
I spin before I take him up on that, grab a bunch of shirts, and turn, holding them in front of me like a shield. “I’ll try these on,” I offer.
His chuckles follow me as I fumble around the store. “This way,” he calls, and I turn back and walk past him to the dressing room he indicates.
I swear I hear him whisper, “So fucking cute,” as I see the dressing room area. There’s a velvet curtain separating it, and it opens as I approach. Atom is there, wearing a smile. “The other clothes are inside. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you. That will be all for now,” Zia instructs as I step inside, seeing the changing rooms. I pick the last one at random and go to shut the door when Zia slips in and closes it behind him. My eyes widen.
“What are you doing?” I ask, bumping into the back wall. There’s a small bench to the right, which he sits on, crossing his legs before resting his arm on it.
“Helping you like I said I would. Come on, try them on. I asked Atom for similar styles as well, so there’s a lot. Let’s get started.” When I just gape, his eyebrows rise. “I don’t have all day, Nikko, or do you need my help getting undressed?” I turn, and he laughs softly.
I hang up the shirts and eye the options. There are so many.
I glance back at Zia and find him watching me.
I refuse to back down, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen me half dressed.
I’m more naked in the ring, so I tug off my hoodie and look for a place to hang it.
When I go to drop it on the floor since it’s the dirtiest, least expensive thing here, he plucks it up and folds it carefully on his knee.
Zia nods toward the clothes, and I turn away but look at the mirror to see his eyes running down my back appreciatively.
I’ll admit I flex a little as I grab the first shirt and carefully tug it on, feeling weird about putting something like this on my body.
When I turn, I swear he’s sniffing my hoodie, but he drops it before scanning me and grinning. “That style looks great on you, but you have to feel comfortable.” I turn to the mirror again. The shirt is plain white, but it hits my waist perfectly and sculpts my arms and chest. I look good.
“I like it,” I comment as I reach down and pick up the tag, nearly having a heart attack at the price.
“Two thousand for a shirt?” I carefully reach for the hem, not wanting to rip it as I try to lift it off.
Zia stops me and turns me to face the mirror.
He holds my waist as he props his head on my shoulder and eyes me.
“Don’t worry about the price, just focus on how you feel. Do you like it?”
I nod. “But the price—”
“Doesn’t matter. Next,” he says as he steps back. Shaking my head, I carefully hang it, but he picks it up and throws it onto the other part of the seat and waits for me to choose the next garment.
I don’t plan to buy any of this, it’s too expensive, but I can’t deny him. I select a hoodie and try it on next. It feels like butter on my skin, the hood falls perfectly, and the cuffs reach my wrists, which is usually hard to find with my size.
He whistles and nods. “Next.”
And it continues. I swear he just likes watching me take clothes off more than trying them on, but I don’t care, growing more comfortable as we go, especially when he devours me with his eyes.
Nobody looks at me like that.
I grab the next shirt, eyeing it. It’s not my usual style, but it’s nice. It’s a V-neck shirt for fancier occasions, but in a soft material, and it’s white with a slim purple stripe, the Nexus color.
Turning to the mirror, I check myself out.
It looks good. Even I can admit that. Although I don’t usually wear this kind of thing, I don’t look uncomfortable despite that, and the material doesn’t cling to my body.
It’s loose and comfortable, thin and soft, and still low-key without being too casual.
Zia steps behind me, and I look at him through the mirror. “I like this one. It fits you perfectly,” he complients as his gaze drops to the neckline, which exposes my collarbones and the top of my chest.
“Do you like it more off or on?” I ask boldly.
Our eyes meet in the mirror, desire gleaming in our gazes, and I swear I could cut the sexual tension with a knife. He opens his mouth to talk when a voice speaks farther away.
“Do you need any help?”
Atom.
“No, we’re good,” Zia replies, his eyes dropping to my exposed chest. “Really good.”
I turn, and we are both breathing heavily. His throat bobs as he swallows, and I swear I feel him touching me as his eyes drag over my chest.
I can’t take it anymore.
I have to know.
I shove him harder than I mean to, barely able to think, the air closing in around me. My desire is so hot, I can’t contain it. He hits the wall hard, and I’m on him in a second, bracing my arms on either side of his head as I press my lips to his.
His hands fist the material of the shirt, dragging me closer until we are pressed together. His head tilts up and his mouth opens to give me access.
Zia’s lips are pillowy soft, and when I sweep my tongue into his mouth, I groan as I taste him. He gasps as I tilt my head, dropping my hand to angle his face to deepen the kiss.
Desire courses through me, and the kiss turns brutal, but neither of us cares as we fight to get closer. He breaks away, gasping for air, but I need more. I need to feel his skin.
I need to know he’s as soft as these fucking clothes.
I need him in a way I’ve never needed anyone, and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
My lips brush over his perfect cheeks and then down his neck, sucking, kissing, and biting.
“Is this my thanks for helping you?” Zia rasps, his head tilted back into the wall as I kiss down his neck, breathing in his addictive scent.
My cock is so hard, it aches and begs for attention, but I ignore it.
I can’t stop touching him. I want to do all the wicked things I haven’t let myself dream of since I met him. I need him to see how badly I want him.
I want to meet his dare head-on.
I’m not scared anymore.
Wherever this takes us, I’m along for the ride. I’m in the fucking passenger seat, waiting to go.
“No, this is,” I croon as I drop to my knees.
His eyes widen as he stares down at me, his lips raw and parted from my kiss.
“Fuck, you look so good right now.” Gripping the edges of his pants, I deftly undo the button then meet his eyes again.
“Tell me I can. Tell me I can taste you right now. I’m sick of holding back, sick of fighting this.
I need you in my mouth. I need to know how you feel when you use me. ”
“Yes,” he whispers breathlessly. He reaches down and tangles his fingers in my hair. “Yes, Nikko, taste me. Fuck me.”
I shove his pants down so they pool around his feet and his dick springs free. He’s hard as hell, thick, and so fucking long, I stare, feeling a bit intimidated. He’s completely hairless and has more fucking jewels piercing the tip of his cock, and something about that drives me crazy.
I lean in and lick the piercing. He moans loudly, the sound making my length throb in my shorts. A bang sounds, and I look up to see his head hitting the wall again, his heavy-lidded eyes locked on me as I wrap one hand around his length and hold him still for me.
I have never done this before, but I want to see this cocky man weak for me.
I want to know what he looks like when he lets go.
I want to know what he sounds like when he comes.
Sucking on his tip, I watch his reactions and alter what I’m doing until he’s gripping my hair and trying to thrust into my mouth, and then I pull back.
“Nikko,” he murmurs, “please.”
“Do you like it?” I whisper, kissing his cock as I speak.
“Do you like putting me in my place? Do you like knowing I want you so fucking much I can’t think straight, and that I want you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else?
You’re all I think about, even while training, sleeping, and eating.
I always wonder what you’re doing, what you’re wearing, or if you’d moan for me.
Ever since that fucking night, you’re all I see, Zia, all I can focus on. ”
I confess it like a sin as I lick his length, and he groans.
“I’ve never tasted cum before. Is it sweet?” I muse. “Salty? I want to taste yours. I want it to ruin me for anything else, even food. I want to fucking drown in it. I want you to want me as much as I want you.”
“Fuck.” He tugs my hair. “I do. I want you that fucking badly, and if you don’t suck my cock right now, I swear to the gods, Nikko, I will—” He gasps as I suck him deeply into my mouth, swallowing him to the back of my throat.
My gag reflex kicks in, and I try to pull away, but he holds me there, his eyes rolled back in his head.
My eyes water as I struggle to breathe.
“Nose.” His eyes open and fix on me. “Breathe through your nose. That’s it. I’m going to make you suck cock even better than I do.”
Gripping the base of his dick, I pull back and slide down his length, wanting to be the best he’s ever had so he never thinks about anyone else.
“Just like that,” he praises. “You’re doing well, but you can go faster. Use your other hand to play with my balls.”
Reaching down, I grip his testicles, and when he moans, I tighten my hold as I slide my mouth down. His hips move, taking over, and he uses my mouth while I let him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, his hips moving faster until I’m just along for the ride, and I love it. I love watching him come apart. His eyes are wild, his hair is mussed, and his cheeks are red. He looks far from the perfect Mr. Xander the public always sees, and I crave more of it.
I try to think of what I like when I touch myself to the thought of him, then I move my fingers in time with my mouth. His shocked cry fills the air, spurring me on.
“Um, is everything okay?” Atom asks from somewhere close by.
I stop and narrow my eyes. Zia looks at me as if he’s unsure what to do. This is the first time I’ve seen him like this, and I like that he looks to me for answers. Popping my mouth from his cock, I tighten both hands on him until he bites back a groan.
“Tell him you’re fine,” I whisper. “I’m not stopping, even if he comes in here.”
“Everything is fine!” he calls, his voice wobbling, then I suck him all the way down my throat, and he moans loudly. No doubt Atom knows what’s happening in here, but I hear him leave anyway. “He probably thinks you’re servicing me for your clothes,” Zia rasps, driving into my throat.
“Let him,” I murmur as I slide off his dick. “I don’t care as long as you don’t make me stop.”
“Not a chance.” He drives in deeper. “Keep doing it just like that.”
I can’t talk as he thrusts wildly into my mouth, forcing me to take him faster and deeper. His praises fill the air as he teaches me what he likes, and I use it against him until his hips stutter, and I know he must be close.
Rolling my eyes up to his, I swallow him all the way down and hold him at the back of my throat as I squeeze his balls.
His back arches as he cries out, and his cock jerks in my mouth, his cum flooding my throat. I swallow it as he pants and shakes, his hips moving softly as he rides his release.
When he slumps back into the wall, I slide his length from my mouth, licking my aching lips. My own cock is uncomfortably hard in my shorts, but I ignore it as I watch him.
I tuck him away and straighten his pants, fastening them before I slide up his body. He watches me, his eyes wide and face red as I kiss his lips. “That’s my thanks. I was right by the way—tasty,” I whisper against his lips. “Like jelly.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, and he seems to be lost for words for once. He pulls me closer, kissing me hard and fast as he slides his hand down my torso and cups my aching dick. “Let me—”
“No.” I kiss him to lessen the blow. “I don’t want you to think this is transactional.
This wasn’t about me. It was about you and the fact that I couldn’t stop myself.
” I step back and turn away, unbuttoning the shirt and hanging it.
My hands shake as I fight off my need to bend him into the mirror and drive into his pretty ass until we get arrested.
Even then, I don’t think I could stop.
Zia Xander has officially ruined me, and I don’t care.