Chapter 37
ZARIAH
WEIRD brAND OF FOREPLAY
The crowd poured out of the Colo, and I found myself in the middle of the hockey team, lips tingling from the kiss. Denali had already been carted away by his family, and Elijah elbowed me, grinning wide. “Where do you want to hit first?”
I was happy Elijah’s first thought was spending time with everyone, but I was distracted. “I’m not going out tonight. Denali’s coming over.”
“Z, his family flew in from Michigan, he never gets to see them.”
“We made it to playoffs,” Pickles said like I’d magically missed the game. “If anything, he’ll party with us—”
We headed to the Colo, and the rest of the team agreed in the elevator, but I told them the truth. “Your captain’s going to end up buck-naked in my bed, but I’ll let him know you guys missed him.”
“He’s not coming, Zariah,” Elijah said.
“He’s coming in multiple ways, actually,” I remarked, closing the door to my dorm behind me. There was no way we’d spend the night apart.
I took my time in the shower washing up, and found my pair of itty-bitty black shorts for the occasion. It took twenty minutes for the knock at the door.
Denali was drenched from the rain. He was breathing hard, and he’d swapped his contacts for his glasses. They were fogged up from his trek outside. His words were apologetic. “I did everything to get out of dinner, I wanted to text you, but it was raining, and—”
“Come inside,” I murmured, pulling him in.
His words stuttered to a stop as I led him to the bedroom, weaving my fingers through his. “Oh, fuck,” he repeated. “Holy shit.”
I didn’t have any more hesitation. I wanted him, he wanted me. It was how it was supposed to be. His shirt was nice to look at with how it clung to him, but I tugged at it, an unspoken question to take it off.
Denali’s movements were slow, pulling the shirt over his head.
His skin was slick from the rain, and I let my eyes wander, taking in his chest hair and powerful muscles, rising with every nervous breath.
The barrel of his stomach had my attention, the lines of his hips, his happy trail beckoning me to what I wanted.
His throat bobbed with his swallow—the anxiety taking centerstage. I refused to let that happen. Denali had always been bulky and I loved it.
He was big and warm and delicious. I touched his waist out of raw need. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re the beautiful—”
“Denali.”
“I—I don’t have a six-pack or anything like that,” he managed.
Taking his hands in mine, I brought him to the bed. “I love looking at you. And you make me feel so much, I don’t think I understood feeling until I saw you again.”
I sat on the bed, waiting for him to join me but Denali sank to his knees, touching me like he had to make sure I was real. My waist, my thighs, my stomach, I knew he wanted to touch me more, but he was holding himself back.
He exhaled. “We don’t need to have sex.”
“We’re having sex,” I replied, amused.
“We’ll do this however you want.” His words caught in his throat when his eyes met mine again. “Whatever you want. However you want. Anything you want, I’ll give you.”
I took his face in my hands. “You did so good today, baby.”
His breathing slowed.
“I’m so proud of you.” I traced my fingers along his lips. “I know you love hearing that.”
“Zariah…” he rasped. Relief twisted tight with the tension that we were finally doing this. His fingers twitched, waiting for permission.
“You love the validation,” I hummed, kissing his cheek. He struggled to breathe properly. “You love the adoration, you love the praise, and you deserve it.” I pressed my lips to the edge of his. “You mean so much to me, Denali.”
When I kissed him on the lips, it was the approval he needed. Denali groaned into my mouth, pushing up to cover me on the bed.
Denali wrapped me in his arms, insisting on more kisses. There was so much wanting in them. He never let me forget it, kissing with deliberate intention to show his appreciation, ripping off his glasses as he kissed down my throat, my chest, lifting my shirt to kiss my stomach.
The rhythm was nonsensical, but the path was clear. I bucked under his touch, just as excited as he was. I knew what that adoration translated to—pure, unhinged pleasure. My fingers threaded through his hair, encouraging him when he kissed the lining of my shorts, pulling them off.
His fingers dug too deep into my thighs, his grip too hard, too desperate, and I loved it. When he buried his face between my legs, I never wanted him to stop. His moans were only cut off from how eagerly he ate pussy.
“Fuck,” I cried out, clapping a hand over my mouth, muffling my words.
Denali emerged, his beard wet, his dark eyes intense. He squeezed my thigh hard enough to make me arch up. “Louder.”
The blush blossomed across my skin. “Louder?”
“I need to hear you scream. I need to hear that you want it,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re not allowed to be quiet. Do you understand?”
My nod was wild. I clenched his hair, pushing him to continue, but he gripped me tight, taking my breath away.
“I want everyone on this floor—this dorm—I want everybody on this fucking campus to know how much you want me to fuck you. I want everyone to know you’re mine. This pussy belongs to me. Always has.”
His mouth dropped to me again, his tongue stroking me so deep, it left me writhing on the bed.
It was so much better than I remembered.
He knew how to nip me, how to suck my clit until my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
My nerves were stretched to their capacity, overworked to accommodate him fucking me with his tongue.
He never let up, never slowed down. If anything, he went faster, lifting my hips to push his tongue deeper inside.
“Fuck—fuck me, I’m going to cum!” I was shocked at my own admission, pleasure sending me reeling.
The intensity kept me centered. Denali was the sun, and I could only orbit, spiraling with the incoming orgasm. My words vanished. My thoughts vanished. Denali fucked my soul, and a scream erupted from deep inside.
Time itself stopped. Denali emerged to kiss me, and I could barely kiss him back.
“Damn,” I mumbled.
Denali grinned, kissing me again.
His jeans brushed against me, a rough contrast to my tingling skin—he still had his jeans on. I fumbled with the buttons, fingers shaking, before Denali took the initiative.
He caught my lips for a kiss, shrugging them down. We were so close, his cock brushed my stomach through his boxers, the erection prominent against the fabric until he was finally naked.
“Oh, fuck.” My eyes shot wide. “It’s bigger.”
His cock was definitely over eight inches now, flushed red and engorged, throbbing for me. Precum beaded at the head, pearls I wanted to lick so bad. I ran my tongue along the back of my teeth. I completely forgot how thick he was.
A hand went to my backside, and the air whooshed out of me when Denali handled me, rolling us over. He placed me on his lap, putting me on top.
He tossed away my tank top, and I knew what he wanted.
I wrapped a hand around his cock, leaning up to ease him inside, but he stopped me. Denali easily pushed me back to his thighs. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I repeated.
“You just finished, you’re too sensitive.”
His sudden concern threw me for a loop. I was way too turned on to understand. I blinked, confused. “Don’t you want to cum?”
“I want you, honey,” he murmured, sinfully deep. “I want to touch you.”
Nobody had ever said anything like that to me, especially Denali. I’d never felt so…revered. Wanted. Cherished.
He drew me closer, settling me to rub along his cock. We weren’t fucking. We were rubbing, humping, grinding against each other—it was fucking dirty and so much fun. His thick, firm thighs were drenched in me, and my nerves lit up with the endless sensations.
“Isn’t this nice?” he hummed, easing up to tongue my neck. “I don’t want anything fast. I want it slow—I want to melt into you, Riah.”
The whimper was involuntary. “Denali.”
“This doesn’t finish when I cum. We’re going to keep going.”
The longer we clung to each other, the more desperate I became.
I couldn’t handle Denali’s cock pulsing for me.
The need grew, fluttering deep inside until his hands were on me again.
He manhandled me, flipping me to pin me underneath him.
God, every time he threw me around, I was a quivering, aching mess.
I shivered with pleasure as he laid on top of me, his chest to my back. His voice was soft in my ear, whispering how much he missed me, how much he wanted me. A constant, tantalizing murmur as he nudged my thighs apart.
This was heaven. There was nothing else it could be.
His cock throbbed against me before he pushed inside, swearing under his breath. Gasps passed between us. Denali gathered me in his arms, lifting me to crush me to his chest.
His hips rolled, plunging deeper. The friction was too good, and the slow, measured thrusts left me whining. Denali pressed his forehead to my shoulder, driving into me, and I was wound tighter and tighter, so fucking desperate for it.
“I love how you fuck me,” I choked out.
His words were a rasp in my ear. “I’m not fucking you, baby.”
“No?”
“No. We’re making love.” Denali bit my neck before caressing it with a swipe of his tongue, pleasure rewarding the pain. “When I fuck you, you’ll know. When I fuck you, you won’t be able to talk through it.”
Making love. Electricity shot through me, the satisfaction as powerful as the lust.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” burst out of me with each hard thrust. A dam burst inside, leaving me shaking underneath him. “I’m cumming—”
Denali tipped me over the edge, and I came on his cock, shouting his name. His breaths turned harsher, and he forced me down, his sheer weight binding me to the bed, to him. His lips moved to my ear with a command. “Don’t move.”