Chapter 13 #2
I move slowly at first, rolling my hips into her mouth, dragging myself over her tongue, watching how she takes me. Every stroke is controlled. Every thrust is a fight I am losing, one breath at a time.
It all gets too much—the heat, the suction, and the wet drag of her mouth.
Something in me snaps. A low growl rips from my chest and my restraint goes with it.
“Fucking hell, Sky.”
My hand tightens in her hair, and I start moving with more purpose, fucking her mouth with rough, shallow strokes that make my pulse pound behind my ribs. Pleasure coils low in my gut and my balls draw tight with that warning pull I am too far gone to care about.
She moans around me. The vibration tears through my cock and nearly breaks me in half.
“Fuck,” I groan, my voice raw. “Fuck, baby.”
The pressure builds so fast I can’t breathe through it.
It crawls up my spine, burns through my hips, and punches straight into my chest. Every nerve in my body lights up at once, and for one perfect, brutal second, there is nothing in the world but her mouth and my cock and the filthy, impossible way she takes me.
I don’t warn her. I can’t seem to form words. My release hits too hard.
I come with a guttural sound, my hips jerking as I spill deep into her mouth—pulse after pulse, hot and endless. My fingers flex in her hair as my body empties itself into her. Every burst dragging another broken groan out of me.
She swallows.
Fuck me, she swallows. Her throat works around me, eyes glassy with tears, as she takes every last drop I give her.
I slow my hips, but I don’t pull away. Not yet.
I can’t. I stay there, buried in the heat of her mouth, moving in slow, shallow strokes while the aftershocks rip through me.
My thighs tremble. My chest heaves and my cock pulses against her tongue, still spilling little aftershocks as she keeps her mouth on me.
“That’s it,” I rasp, barely able to get the words out. “Fuck, Sky. That’s it.”
She blinks up at me, tears clinging to her lashes, cheeks flushed, her mouth still full of me.
She looks proud of what she did to me, as if she destroyed me on purpose and plans to sit there, smiling, while I try to put myself back together.
When I stop moving, she pulls off me with a loud pop.
Her eyes search mine.
I reach for her wrist and pull her down onto the bed. She comes willingly, her body landing against mine, still carrying the heat of what just happened between us. Our gazes lock and for one fucked-up second, the room goes quiet.
Her eyes move over my face as she lifts her hand and brushes her fingers along my jaw. The touch is so soft. Gentle enough to make me sense every shitty thing I have ever done to deserve losing her.
That wild hunger sparks back to life in her eyes as she grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down.
Our mouths collide.
It’s not sweet.
It’s fire and teeth and breath and every word we are too fucked up to say out loud. She kisses me as if she is angry with me. As if she missed me. As if she wants to crawl inside my chest and punish my heart for still beating without her.
I kiss her back harder because fuck, I missed her. Missed this.
We break apart for half a second, both breathing too hard.
Her gaze drops, dragging over every feature of my face with a heat that makes my skin tighten. Wherever she looks, I feel it. She studies me as if she is trying to remember me and ruin me in the same breath.
I roll her onto her back and settle over her.
No more teasing.
No more punishment disguised as foreplay.
I fucking want her. Not just the sharp parts or the filthy parts. All of her. Because the girl with fire in her mouth and hurt behind her eyes, who walked back into my life, took one look at the wreckage, and still let me touch her.
I lower my mouth to her skin and kiss my way down her body. Her throat. Her collarbone. The soft swell of her breast. I take my time because I need to.
She lets out a soft, needy sound when I cup her breast in my hand.
“That’s it,” I murmur against her skin. “Let me fucking hear you.”
I move lower, pressing kisses across her stomach, feeling the tiny shiver that runs through her when my mouth gets close to where she wants me most.
I spread her thighs and glance up at her. Her chest rises and falls too quickly. Her lips part.
I lower my mouth and drag my tongue through her pussy, tasting her. Her hips jerk and that sound comes out of her again. Soft. Broken. Mine.
I groan against her. I lick over her clit, before I take it into my mouth.
Her back arches.
“Fuck,” she breathes, fingers threading through my hair.
There it is. That sound. That perfect, addictive sound that has lived rent-free in the dirtiest part of my memory for far too long.
I grip her hips and my gaze sweeps over her as my tongue does every filthy thing to her. Her flushed skin. Her swollen mouth. Her eyes. Those fucking eyes. And the heat in my chest twists into something sharper. Something ugly.
What if I lose her again?
The thought lands hard.
What if this is all I get? This bed. This breath. This one stolen piece of her before she remembers what I did and walks away for good.
She has every right to hate me.
I lift my head as the emotion clogs my throat and stare at her. My hands are still locked around her hips.
Skylar’s expression shifts. Softens by half an inch. Just enough to kill me.
“What?” she whispers.
I don’t answer because how the fuck do I tell her I’m terrified?
How do I tell her that touching her is less about wanting her now and more about begging the universe not to take her from me again?
So I do the only thing I can do.
I lower my mouth back to her pussy, hold her tighter, and worship her as if I could make her understand every broken thing I cannot bring myself to say.
She lets out a moan, and her legs tremble around my head.
I keep my mouth on her.
Her breath catches when I circle her clit. Her fingers twist in my hair when I suck just hard enough to make her forget she is supposed to be mad at me.
Skylar watches me the whole time. Her eyes are half-lidded and dark, fixed on my face as I give her everything I have. Every lick and suck. Every slow, filthy drag of my tongue through her pussy. I follow every sound she makes, chasing the ones that break.
She gives herself away in pieces. A shaky breath. A helpless little grind. A whispered curse through parted lips.
I take each one and use them against her. Her body starts to shake beneath my hands. Her hips lift, pressing against my mouth, and I grip her tighter, holding her right at the edge, hot and desperate and so fucking close that I can feel it in the way she trembles.
“Oh…my God… Zane,” she gasps.
My cock jerks at the sound of my name leaving her mouth.
I suck her clit harder, giving her the pressure she needs. The pressure I remember. She arches off the bed with a sharp cry, fingers clamping down in my hair as the orgasm rips through her.
There she is. My fierce girl.
Her thighs shake around my shoulders. Her pussy grinds against my face as she takes what she needs from me. Fuck, it’s the hottest thing I have ever seen. She rides my mouth with the same stubborn fire she brings to everything else, chasing pleasure until it breaks her wide open.
I groan against her, struggling for air, drunk on the feel of her coming against my tongue.
Her mouth opens as her head falls back. Her chest rises in broken, uneven breaths as the pleasure keeps moving through her. It softens her face for a second, strips away the anger and the armor, and leaves only Skylar beneath me, flushed and wrecked and mine in a way I have no right to claim.
When her body finally goes limp beneath my hands, I press one last kiss to her inner thigh and rise over her.
My cock is so hard it hurts. I settle between her legs and press against her, dragging myself along the wet heat of her pussy until a rough sound tears out of both of us.
Her hands come up for me.
I kiss her before she can say anything. Our mouths crash together, messy and hungry, my tongue pushing deep as she tastes herself on me. She moans into my mouth and I grind against her entrance, every inch of me begging to sink inside her and forget the rest of the fucking world exists.
She reaches between us, fingers wrapping around my cock, ready to guide me in.
I catch her wrist before she can line me up. Her eyes flash open in surprise, but I do not let go. I lift her hand above her head and pin it to the mattress, my fingers firm around her wrist.
Not to stop her, but to slow us down before I lose myself completely.
For a second, I simply stare at her.
Her hair is spread across my pillow. Her lips are swollen from my kisses. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright with desire, her body still trembling from what I did to her. My gaze shifts to the scar above her eye.
The thought that someone could hurt her hits me right in the chest.
I take a deep breath and hold her gaze before I lower my mouth to hers, softer this time, and press my cock against her entrance.
“Look at me,” I murmur against her lips.
Her breath catches.
I tighten my grip on her wrist, pinning it above her head as I hold myself there, right on the edge of slipping inside her.
“Stay with me, Sky,” I say, “Just for this.”
Then I push in.
Slow.
Careful.
We both moan at the same time, the sound breaking between our mouths as I slide deeper, taking my time even though every part of me is begging to drive into her hard.
I feel every tight, wet inch of her as she opens for me, and by the time I am buried inside her, my whole body is shaking with the effort it takes not to lose my shit.
“Fuck,” I breathe against her mouth, because nothing has ever evoked the same sensations of what she feels like. No mouth, hands, or body has come close to being inside Skylar.
I draw out slowly, my jaw clenched, the drag of her around me all the way to the tip. Then I thrust back in.
Her head tips back against the mattress and her moan fills the room.
I do it again.
Slow out.
Deep in.