Chapter 29 #2
His whole body goes rigid.
For a second, he doesn’t move, just stares down at me like he’s trying to decide if he should ruin me completely or worship every inch of me until I fall apart beneath him.
Then his hands clamp down on my ass, fingers digging in, his restraint snapping under the weight of everything I just said.
The second he pulls out, I feel it. Emptiness so sudden it makes my whole body ache. The loss cuts deep, but before I can even think to protest, he flips me onto my back. Onto the bed.
The look in his eyes is lethal. All rough edges and bad intentions.
He looms over me, muscles coiled, the predator in him fully awake now, and I am nothing but prey spread beneath him, begging to be devoured.
“You already belong to me, Sky.” His voice is rough, low, dangerous. “Every fucking part of you.”
Then he drops to his knees.
“Now fucking spread those legs.”
As soon as I do, he dives in.
His tongue slides through my folds, every movement practiced, precise, devastating.
He flicks, circles, and sucks, working me over with such filthy talent that I can’t stop the breathy moans spilling out of me. It’s fucking obscene how good it feels.
My fingers claw into the sheets as his mouth claims every inch, like he’s trying to undo me from the inside out.
Then his hand slides up my body until he finds my breast and pinches my nipple just hard enough to make my back arch off the bed. My gasp rips through the room.
His mouth doesn’t stop. He groans into me; the sound vibrating straight through my clit.
It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
I swear I’m going to lose my mind.
He switches it up, tongue flattening against me while two fingers join the game.
My thighs tremble. My hips jerk. I roll against his face, needing more, chasing it.
“Zane,” I gasp, breath hitching. “Please… fuck… just fuck me already.”
He pulls back, lips swollen, chin soaked in me, cocky grin spread wide as if he’s proud of the mess he’s made.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs. “Soaked and desperate. Just for me.”
I groan, half in frustration, half because he looks so goddamn good kneeling there with that arrogant smirk and the evidence of my slick, glistening on his skin.
He’s an asshole. A gorgeous, dangerous asshole who likes to tease the fuck out of me.
He leans over, voice a low rasp that scrapes across my stomach. “How badly do you crave my cock?”
That cocky smirk curves his mouth—fuck, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He wants the words.
Wants to hear me beg.
“I asked you a question, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with that dangerous edge that always does something to me. “How badly do you want my cock?”
“What do you think, asshole?” I snap, fisting one hand in his hair and yanking his face back between my thighs.
His low laugh rumbles against my pussy, lips brushing over me in a kiss that’s pure sin. The sound, the feel of it, sends a jolt straight through my spine.
“You want it that bad, huh?” he murmurs, mouth slick, eyes burning.
I bite down on my bottom lip, breath caught, heart thudding against my ribs. All I can do is nod as his thumb presses in soft circles over my clit.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, pulling his head away and grabbing his cock, putting the head to my opening.
He doesn’t rush.
Just lines it up and lowers his mouth to my stomach, kissing a path along my skin while I tremble beneath him.
“Take a deep breath,” he whispers.
Then he pushes in.
My back arches, mouth falling open.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp.
It’s more than a stretch. It’s a possessive, punishing claim that leaves no doubt I belong to him.
He doesn’t stop.
He pulls back and drives deeper until he’s buried to the base, cock pulsing inside me, his hips flush against mine.
“Fuck,” he groans, the sound dragging from deep in his chest. “You’re so fucking tight, Sky.”
His head drops for a second, jaw clenched, breath ragged as he tries to hold it together.
Rising onto his knees, he holds my hips, pulling me hard against him. His grip is brutal. I know I’ll wear the bruises tomorrow, and the thought only turns me on more.
He pulls back slowly, then slams into me, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the room.
Again, and again.
My thighs shake, the bed jerking beneath us, but he doesn’t ease up. He pounds into me, eating every moan I give like it fuels him.
“You feel that?” he grits out, slamming deep. “That’s me owning this pussy.”
The pleasure is too much. My legs tremble. My vision blurs. He fucks me until I can’t remember my name. Until all I know is him… his cock, his voice as he ruins me all over again.
“Zane,” I whisper, voice trembling, my hand reaching for him, like he’s the only thing anchoring me to this world.
The need within me is wild. Bigger than anything I’ve ever known. It claws at my insides, consuming me until there’s nothing left but the ache of wanting him.
His gaze is full of fire.
It pins me in place, steals the air from my lungs. There’s no hiding under that stare. He sees everything. All my craving, the desperation. All of me.
“I love you,” he says, so quiet it nearly shatters me.
His hips slow, rolling into me with a deliberate grind that makes my spine arch.
It’s different now. More than just heat and skin.
Each thrust sinks deeper, steadier. He’s not rushing. He’s giving it to me as if it means something.
And fuck, it’s so good; it makes my toes curl, my breath stutter and my chest tighten with every filthy, perfect movement.
I lift my hips to meet him, matching his rhythm, feeding that fire between us.
“Zane,” I moan again, but it’s not just his name anymore.
It’s a plea.
A prayer.
A promise.
Because whatever this is… whatever we’ve become, I don’t want it to end.
Every time he thrusts into me, I come apart a little more. He doesn’t just fuck me, he buries himself so deep it's as if he’s trying to live inside my skin.
He’s never taken me like this before.
There’s hunger in every move, desperation carved into every breath.
And then it hits me.
This isn’t just about the sex.
He’s tearing down every wall between us, brick by brutal brick, until there’s nothing left but this.
He wants me to see him. All of him.
My fingers trace his jaw, lingering on the rough stubble, careful not to press too hard against the bruise blooming along the bone. He’s fucking beautiful. All scars and silence. And at this moment, he’s mine.
His eyes find mine, and the look there guts me. It’s worship. It’s a vow.
He holds me tighter, moving slower now as if memorizing the way our bodies fit together.
He’s not just inside me. He’s etched into every breath, moan, every fucking heartbeat.
Zane Rivera doesn’t just fuck me. He worships me.
As our fingers tangle together, Zane raises one of my hands above my head, pinning it there.
The other trails between us, his touch unrelenting as his fingers find my clit.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. How to drive me wild, to strip me bare with nothing but a touch. Every deep, punishing thrust tears a whimper from my throat, dragging me closer and closer to the edge.
I part my lips, meaning to beg for mercy, for just a second to breathe, but all that escapes is a moan. I bite down on my lip, trying to quiet the sounds, but it’s no use. My body betrays me.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, voice strained.
His next thrust knocks the breath from my lungs.
It shatters something inside me.
My orgasm crashes over me in a sudden, overwhelming wave, a cry ripping from my throat as every muscle locks up tight.
I come with a force that steals my voice, leaving my body trembling beneath him.
Zane stills.
His eyes search mine, and for a second, all the cocky bravado slips away. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I exhale shakily, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“Better than okay,” I whisper, my body still thrumming with aftershocks.
He fucks me hard, rough and relentless, chasing his own pleasure with a need that borders on desperation.
His thrusts are deep, punishing, making the bed creak beneath us. The muscles in his arms flex with every movement, that filthy mouth drops open as he groans, head tipping forward, eyes half-lidded with the kind of bliss that looks obscene on someone that beautiful.
I watch his face contort as he finally loses control.
His body jerks against mine as he comes with a ragged moan, cock pulsing inside me, as he fucks me through his orgasm.
He stills, breath coming in short, uneven gasps. I feel the aftershocks of him coming ripple through his body as he unravels piece by piece.
My fingers find his hair, and I thread them through the damp strands, gently pulling him closer until his cheek is pressed against my breast.
He holds me, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist, the other splayed across my stomach.
When he finally lifts his head, there’s a softness in his expression. His gaze drags across my face.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, voice low. A crooked grin tugs at his mouth, cocky as fuck and everything him. “I’ve fucked no one like that before.”
His hand slides up, slow and steady, fingers brushing over my ribs, skimming the underside of my breast, before resting right above my heart, where it thunders, loud beneath his palm.
His eyes meet mine, that signature arrogance fading into something real.
“You know what this is,” he says. He leans in, forehead brushing mine, breath ghosting over my lips. “You’re mine now, and I’m fucking yours. Every fucked-up, broken, bleeding piece of me, you’ve got it. No one else gets to touch you or this pussy. No one else gets to see me like this.”
His thumb strokes over that scar above my brow, his mouth inches from mine.
“Say something before I lose my fucking mind.”
I stare at him. That brutal beauty wrapped around a heart he swears doesn’t know how to love. But I’ve seen it.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words trembling in the quiet.
His eyes close, lashes lowering… like the sound of those three words are too much to bear.
I watch it hit him—the bad boy who’s spent his whole life pretending he doesn’t have a heart.
When he opens his eyes again, they’re wet, sad with something I’ve never seen in him before.
His voice comes out rough, almost broken. “You are the only person who has ever said that to me.”
I reach up, fingers slipping through his hair, and I press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I mean it, Zane,” I whisper against his mouth. “Every fucking word.”