32. Esperr
ESPERR
Something in his voice has changed; it’s not exactly dangerous, but it’s dark.
Zyran pulls back and looks at me, his eyes somehow different. And then suddenly he’s saying, “Take your shirt off.”
I blink, not expecting that to come out of him at all. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
I search his face trying to find what connects this to what we were just talking about, and I can’t find it. And in a way, I don’t think I’m supposed to. Maybe that’s the point.
So I blame the non-common sense part of my brain when I reach for the hem of my shirt and begin to pull it over my head.
I’m not sure how he does it. One moment my shirt covers my eyes, and the next my arms are caught, the fabric twisted just enough that he has both of my wrists in one hand with the efficiency of someone who has done this before.
My body relaxes for a moment, until I tug at my wrist, and I realize he’s tied them together. Zyran leans above me, this darkness lingering in his eyes, and I realize my heart is slamming against my ribs—not from fear but something else entirely.
Enough that my core tightens, and thank god I’m still wearing my panties or he’d see how damn wet I am.
“You’re not scared,” he murmurs.
I shake my head.
“Good.”
“Zyran,” I croak, failing at finding any other word.
“Shh,” he whispers.
My pulse kicks up, hammering against my chest as he grabs me around my waist and scoots me to the middle of the couch. I try to sit up so I’m not lying in a weird and slightly uncomfortable position, but he stops me—his mouth coming down to my throat.
A shameful moan escapes me, and inch by inch Zyran trails down my neck over my chest. And by the time he’s reached my right nipple, I’m trembling and my pussy is wetter than it’s ever been.
His teeth graze over my nipple before clamping his mouth over it entirely. My back bows as he laps over my tits, going back and forth between the two.
Zyran is ruining me.
I can feel the walls I’ve spent so long building starting to break down. And I’m not prepared for it, not even fucking close, but it’s pointless to try and fight him.
His hands trail down my stomach to my hips, squeezing and massaging, while I feel every single fucking touch go directly between my legs. I try to shut my legs, getting some type of friction—never having this sort of sensation before.
I’m not a virgin—Daniel was my first, and it was not pleasant. And I hate that I think about him, but I can’t help it; he’s the only reference point I have.
Daniel never once asked what I wanted; he expected me to go down on him, and he never returned the favor—as if the thought had never even occurred to him. I wanted to wait, but he didn’t, and the entire time it was about his pleasure.
Suddenly Zyran grabs the back of my thighs and pushes my legs up, spreading me open for him. His eyes stay locked on my core, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen me, I don’t think I’ll ever not become shy of him being so close to my pussy.
“Fuck, Esperr,” he growls under his breath, sounding like I was the one torturing him.
My heart skips a beat like it always does, and I open my mouth to tell him that he needs to stop—that he can’t distract me from the problem. But then his tongue is licking up my seam.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to his mouth on me, and I don’t have time to question or even worry about it when he’s lapping up my arousal that doesn’t stop when he’s around.
“God damnit,” he whimpers—whimpers—against my core. Then his tongue is diving back into me, his expression twisted with nothing else but pleasure.
And a large part of me can’t understand his… obsession with this, with him somehow getting pleasured by pleasuring me.
The moment Zyran’s lips close around my clit, biting down, my eyes roll to the back of my head, and this pressure builds low in my stomach. My throat strains; whimpers turn into moans, loud enough that I’m sure my neighbors can hear me through the thin walls.
He growls his approval, and that sound and vibration go straight to my pussy, clenching around his tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life—I mean, every time he’s done this, it’s been life-changing in a way that I can’t explain. But this is different somehow.
His finger probed my entrance, giving me a solid two seconds before pressing forward and curling inside me.
“Jesus—fuck,” I hiss.
My eyes slam shut, my core tightening while my hips jerk forward trying to get more friction. Between his mouth sucking my clit and his fingers moving inside me, my vision begins to blur and my head feels heavy.
I'm so consumed by what he’s doing that every muscle in my body tightens, and I hadn’t even realized that my knees are next to my head. He’s got me in a wide and open position that?—
“Oh fuck.” Zyran hits my g-spot with nothing but perfect precision, enough that my vision doubles and my head falls into the back of the couch.
Everything feels like too much and not enough all at once, and then suddenly I explode.
My eyes slam shut, brows furrowed as my pussy convulses against his persistent tongue and squeezes around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of me.
Everything after that is slow to come back down, waves that roll through my body.
Suddenly he’s moving back, standing to his full height above me.
“I told you there were easy parts of me to give you, the ones where I make you coffee in the morning, the ones where I make you whatever you want to eat. Where I help you bathe when you’re having a bad day, or your migraine is unmanageable and you can’t do anything.”
Zyran steps back while grabbing the hem of his shirt before yanking it over his head and dropping it to the ground.
My mouth opens, prepared to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he raises a brow, stopping me.
He unzips his pants slowly, shoving them down his thighs and stepping out of them.
“And I told you there’s this darker part of me, the one that’s holding back. You remember that, right?”
Words don’t come to me; I’m barely even able to nod my head.
“I don’t want you quietly or just halfway. So when you ask me what we are…” He bends down in a squat and draws my legs up until I’m basically leaning back on my shoulders and my knees are pressed against the back of the couch. Then he drives inside me.
“ZYRAN!” I scream, my voice coming out completely high-pitched and broken as my vision blurs and my eyes slam shut at the sudden invasion.
He moans loudly, hands tightening around my thighs.
“Does this tell you what we are?” He asks.
I don’t have time to think, let alone answer, before he’s pulling back and snapping his hips forward.
Oh my God.
The burn from how wide he’s stretching me is so consuming it’s the only thing I can think about, that is, before he pushes forward and somehow lodges himself so far inside me I swear I can’t breathe.
“I asked you a question, Esperr.” In and out. In and out. “Does. This. Tell. You?”
Zyran rocks his hips, and it slowly stops burning, just becoming a very full sensation. Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t think my vagina is ever going to recover.
“Oh, mio cuore, I’m so glad you think my cock is that big,” he groans and thrusts into me again and again.
I open my eyes and I’m immediately hit with this overwhelming and tightening sensation at my core when I see us.
His cock stretches my pussy out in an ungodly wide way, and I don’t think he’s ever looked so beautiful.
Pure ecstasy is etched through his brows; his mouth opens as he works himself deeper into me.
And then it hits me, in his weird fucked-up way, this is his answer.
It’s not words like he said on the couch, though those did matter. It’s his hands and his attention and the way he has been quietly learning every single thing about me without making a big deal about it.
The coffee before I’m awake, the turning lights off when my head hurts, and the snowball fight at two in the morning because he knew I needed something to get my mind off the nightmare.
He’s not the type to just give me flowers, words, and whatever a normal girl would want.
Zyran gives me his hands, his presence, and the knowledge that he heard every broken thing I said tonight and responded by pulling me closer instead of running like Daniel did. It’s what he’s been saying since the first morning he stayed here—no, since he first showed up at my door.
I just wasn’t listening in the right language, and that’s when I felt something settle in my chest.
He’s mine just as much as I’m his.
“Fuck, there you go,” he moans, fucking me in short, quick thrusts.
My mouth hangs open, breathy sighs spilling out. And then I’m choking the moment he reaches down, spreading my pussy lips apart, thumb pressing against my clit.
“That’s it.” A growl leaves his throat as he uses one hand to snake up my middle and wrap around my neck.
He doesn’t allow me anytime to adjust, continuing his harsh pace, as he forces me to keep my eyes on him.
And that sick part of my head doesn’t mind, even worse, that I want him to choke me until I pass out.
I want to feel the euphoria slow through my veins as he shows me in his own ways how much I matter to him.
Zyran squeezes just enough that my air supply has vanished, and the pressure builds in my head. My vision blurs, and I’m vaguely aware of my core tightening and my pussy contracting.
And then I explode.
It hits me like a ton of bricks, and I’m barely aware of the ecstasy that overpowers my entire body.
I’m incapable of doing anything as he suddenly lets go of my throat and pulls out of me.
His hands are moving against my cunt, swiping across my clit, and my consciousness locks as some sort of liquid spills out of my pussy.
I suck in a much-needed breath, a sob bursting from my mouth before my body tingles with every sensation.
Then he’s moving me, flipping me onto my knees, with my ass in the air and head pressed against the couch cushion.
“Zyran—”
Oh fuck.