Chapter 15 Fault Lines
FAULT LINES
RUBY
The penthouse is finally quiet.
It only took Zane threatening to bodily remove the last two bandmates who wouldn’t take a hint, Jude laughing all the way out the door, and Bishop whispering “goodnight” like he was escaping a war zone.
Now it’s just us.
We shower together, his hands everywhere and my brain nowhere, the steam turning everything slow and sweet until it isn’t sweet at all anymore.
“I’ve got a present for you,” he whispers in my ear when I’m putty in his hands.
I blink once. Twice. “What?”
He takes my hand without answering and he leads me, naked out of the bathroom. There’s a small black leather pouch on the bed, not the kind to freak me out…yet.
It’s too small to be a blatant phallic sex toy but not too small to be hiding something else.
Zane keeps me plastered to his side as he picks it up and hands it to me. From the way his cock is bobbing and straining for attention, I’m not at all surprised when I loosen the tie and an egg vibrator falls out.
Something else catches in the velvet and when I shake it out, a small remote follows.
Oh…shit. “Okay. This is either for my pleasure or my funeral, and with you I honestly can’t tell the difference. Zane, if this thing ends up lodged somewhere the sun doesn’t shine, I’m haunting you for the rest of your very loud, very dramatic life.”
He laughs, which makes my own lips curve like he’s using the remote control already. A moment later, I realise I’m not just happy he’s amused, I’m also relieved. This must have been what he had delivered.
I shiver when his hand slides up my arm, over my shoulder to cup my nape in a strong, warm hold he uses to drag me closer.
To kiss me long and deep until I’m whimpering.
“It’s time, baby.”
I blink up at him, dazed from the magic of his kiss. “Time?” I echo.
“Time to make you feel fantastic. Drenched and begging for cock. Then, yes, baby, time for me to fuck you in the ass like I promised I would.”
All signs of humour are gone, replaced by the feral need I know so well. The same need unfurling through me as he catches one nipple between his thumb and finger and squeezes.
“Say ‘yes, Zane.’”
The thought of his ridiculously large cock in my backside makes my imaginary eyes cross but damn, there hasn’t been a moment since I met him that this man has made me regret a single thing we do in bed.
So I suck in a whoo-boy breath. “Yes, Zane.”
To say his eyes light up fireworks on the Fourth of July is the understatement of the century. He delves in for another torrid kiss, and when I’m dizzy with lust, he moves back, points to the bed.
“Lie down. On your back, legs spread. Let’s get the show on the road.”
Am I a little ashamed with how fast I move? How quickly I spread myself wide open, my needy pussy on show for Zane?
Maybe.
His eyes are living pools of unhinged obsession when he stares down at me, his gaze darting all over my body, missing nothing.
I startle when the vibrator comes alive in his hand. But he doesn’t use it. He just sets it down next to me.
Then he starts from my forehead, kissing me almost reverently. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Every second of every day, you steal my breath. And you don’t just take me, Ruby. You unmake me. You rip me out of my body and drag me through every plane until all that exists is you.”
My eyes water…from the overwhelming urge to scream, sob, and file an emotional restraining order against the galaxy for letting this happen to me. From the fact that this feral rockstar just turned sex into an interdimensional pilgrimage and my stupid heart is actually buying it.
I’m lost in the insanity of it, which is why the first bite makes me shriek. “Zane!”
He doesn’t respond or lift his head from my neck. He bites me, harder, then sucks on my flesh. “Oh God…are you…giving me hickeys?”
Still he doesn’t respond. And me? I fucking melt when he tongues my nipple. When he bites and grazes and licks his way down my body and sinks to his knees.
The vibrator sings its ominous and sultry song as my rockstar god eats me out and into my first blinding orgasm.
“You’re shaking already,” he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction. His fingers circle my back entrance, slow and deliberate, savoring the way my body twitches and clenches. When I’m a sopping mess, he lifts his head, his mouth wet with my juices. “Again, Ruby.”
And on we go.
He wraps my thighs around his head and he tortures my clit with his clever fingers, tongue and teeth.
When I’m done screaming through my second orgasm, I turn my head, my cheek pressing into the mattress as I meet his intense gaze.
His dark eyes burn with something primal, something that makes my pulse quicken. “Zane,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from screaming his name. “What are you doing to me?”
His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no humor in it, only manic intent. “Making sure you remember who you belong to.”
I’m still panting when he picks up the egg.
His fingers tease over the remote, crank up the vibrations and everything inside me clenches. I’m not sure I’m ready for a surfeit of pleasure again so soon, so I prop up on my elbows.
“Zane?”
I bat my lashes. “Can I suck your cock, please?”
His white teeth flash. “Nice try, baby. The only place my cock is going tonight is in that beautiful ass. But I need you soft and dripping first.”
And with that, he brings the vibrator to my pussy.
I drop back and moan to the ceiling as he pushes it deep inside me. “Oh God!”
We’ve barely started and the air is thick with the scent of sex and something darker—his need to own me completely.
I gasp and shudder as the vibrator hums inside me, its relentless buzz sending aftershocks through my trembling body.
Zane’s fingers trace the curve of my body, his touch possessive, branding even in its gentleness. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my skin, every hickey and love bite a testament to his claim. My breath hitches as his hand drifts lower, teasing the sensitive flesh between my thighs.
“Look at you. You’ve come twice, and you’re still so fucking amped for me.” His thumb presses against my clit, and I gasp, my hips jerking involuntarily. The vibrator in my pussy pulses, a constant reminder of his control, of how thoroughly he’s worked me over.
I’m too worked up again, too far gone to speak.
I can only watch as he extends one tattooed arm to the nightstand, pulls the drawer open and plucks out a tube of lube. He coats his fingers liberally, even as his other thumb glides back and forth over my clit.
Then he lowers his drenched fingers to my anus.
At the first touch of the cold gel, my back arches off the bed.
“Every time you sit down tomorrow, you’ll feel me. Every time you shift in your seat, you’ll think of my hands, then my cock stretching you open, filling you up.” His thumb presses harder, and I whimper, my body already coiling tight again.
“And when you look in the mirror, you’ll see my marks. My teeth, my hands, all proof that you’re mine.”