Jaime
JAIME
For three years, I’ve both dreamed of and dreaded this happening again. Zak’s lips are as soft as I remember beneath mine, but he remains frozen, probably wondering what the hell is going on. I know I am.
Without releasing the grip I have on his shirt, I reach up and slide my other hand around his shoulders, raking my nails through the closely shaved hair at the back of his head. It snaps him out of whatever trance he’s in, and then I’m in trouble.
One of his hands cups my face as he deepens the kiss, the other pulling me against his chest. His thumb slides along my exposed midriff, and I melt against him with a moan. Nothing has ever felt so completely and utterly . . . Right.
Zak holds me to him like he’s scared I’ll run, but at the same time, with so much tenderness, tears prick beneath my eyelids. I shouldn’t be doing this. Being trapped has made me reckless. Desperate for escape—to feel anything but the suffocating feeling of being lost in my own life. A lioness slamming herself against the bars of her cage uncaring of the broken bones it might cause.
My grip loosens on Zak’s shirt and perhaps he takes it as a sign I’m going to put a stop to this epic mistake, because he pulls me even closer, a small groan of protest escaping him as he kisses me deeper.
I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.
Which I don’t.
Smoothing my hands down his broad chest, I slip my fingers up underneath his shirt and trace the warm, hard muscles of his stomach. Zak’s hand drops from my waist to grip my ass as he flexes his hips, and my breath hitches when his hard cock presses into my stomach. Fuck.
My hands slide around to grip him, and he moans against my tongue, his hips grinding against me. Warmth builds between my legs, my body thrumming with need, but I know he won’t take the lead. Not when I told him to his face that I didn’t want this. Even though, it’s clear it was a fucking lie.
Reaching between us, I flick open the button on his jeans and ease down the zipper. Zak’s hands still, and he breaks the kiss, pulling back to look at me, his eyes searching mine.
“I want you to fuck me,” I say, sliding my hand inside his underwear and wrapping my hand around his dick. My heart stutters in my chest. He’s thick, long, and so fucking hard. My body aches for him.
I give him a firm stroke, watching as his eyes flutter closed, his chest heaving. But then he looks down at me, his lips pressed together.
“Don’t overthink it,” I say, rising onto my toes and brushing my lips against his. “We both want this.”
But I know exactly what he’s thinking. It’s not that he doesn’t want this. He wants more. The problem is, a quick fuck is all I’m able to give him. And I shouldn’t even be giving him that.
“Zak,” I plead, easing his jeans and black boxer briefs down over his ass and setting his beautiful dick free.
Something settles in his gaze, and it breaks my heart. He’ll accept this. He’ll give me what I want, even though we both know he shouldn’t.
Before I can let the guilt change my mind, I drop to my knees and push the head of his cock between my lips, causing Zak to gasp a curse. Gripping his base with one hand, I lick and suck at him, drinking in his groans and trying not to think about the tender way he strokes my hair as I take him as deep as I can.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “.”
The way he says my name wraps around my heart, and I slow, worshiping him with the care he deserves. My name becomes a pleading chant and need throbs between my thighs as I feel his entire body tense with the effort of holding back.
When his fingers gently grip my chin, easing me off and pulling me to my feet, the way he looks at me—the mixture of sadness and adoration—is almost enough to make me snap to my senses.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
Zak’s jaw clenches and he spins us, pushing my back against the door. His touch is no longer gentle as he slides his hands up under my cropped sweater and tugs down the cups of my bra, thumbing my hardened nipples. I reach for his cock again, where it’s hard and ready against my stomach, but he takes my hands and pins them above my head.
Holding me in place with one hand, he lifts my top with the other, dipping his head and sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. I moan, writhing against him as he teases me with his teeth and tongue, sliding his thigh between my legs.
Zak moves to pay my other breast equal attention, but his hand drops to stroke up my thigh, pushing up under my leather skirt. A whimper escapes me as his fingers brush the damp cotton between my legs, and he straightens, resting his forehead against mine, the sound of our breathless panting filling the room.
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the door as he eases my panties down. Stepping out of them, I swallow, savoring the feeling of being at his mercy. With my wrists pinned almost painfully above my head, my breasts exposed, and my skirt hiked up around my waist, I’m his to take. His to claim.
But he doesn’t move.
I make a small pleading noise, but still he stays, his head against mine, and his breath warm against my mouth. Opening my eyes, I find him staring at me with such intensity, I suck in a breath.
Before I can open my mouth to ask what he’s waiting for, he slides his fingers between my legs, pushing one long digit inside. The deep groan that escapes his lips sends shudders through me, and I writhe against his hand. I need more. So much more.
His gaze flits to Sol’s bedside table, and I can guess what he’s thinking. I’m just as reluctant to break apart. “I’m on birth control.”
His eyes meet mine and he swallows hard. “I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone since my medical.”
I nod, the decision made, and he releases my wrists, gripping my waist and lifting me off the ground with an ease that pulls a gasp from my lips. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I expect him to walk us backwards to the bed, but he holds me pressed against the door, pushing the head of his cock between my spread legs. Something between a moan and a sigh leaves my lungs as he gently bucks his hips, working me down over his thick length. When I’m fully seated, his head falls forward, his chest heaving.
Then his mouth finds mine, a deliciously needy, frantic mesh of lips, teeth, and tongue as he starts to move. Each sure thrust of his hips sends jolts of pleasure through me, and I run my hands over every reachable inch of his body, wishing I’d taken off his shirt so I could fully appreciate him.
He shifts me in his arms, his fingers gripping my ass as he pounds into me, and the new angle hits a spot that has me crying out against his mouth. My head falls back against the door and Zak does exactly what I asked him to. He fucks me like he’s trying to ruin me for anyone else. And maybe he is.
My moans turn to whimpers, and I’m glad we’re on the top floor because I’m being loud as hell. “Fuck. Zak . . . I’m so close.”
He grinds his hips with each punishing thrust and I gasp, clinging to him as my body explodes with pleasure, pulsing around him. Zak swears under his breath, his hips moving faster as he chases after me, but then his body tenses, his head dropping to my shoulder and his thick cock twitching as he empties inside me.
“Mine,” he whispers hoarsely against my neck, the word so quiet I don’t think he meant for me to hear it.
He holds me there as our breathing slows, his hips moving slightly as though he’s hoping for another round, but then his grip tightens around me, and he releases me to the ground.
Adjusting my bra and tugging my top back over my breasts, I wordlessly pull down my skirt and stoop to grab my underwear. One of the perks of a top floor room is the ensuite, and although I’m sure Sol will be pissed that his room stinks of sex, I’m grateful as hell. I don’t look at Zak as I make my way into the small bathroom to clean up.
I can’t.
Closing the door, I lean against it heavily and close my eyes, pressing my lips together to stem the burning that’s building behind my eyelids. Having sex with Zak is the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life. All it did was confirm what I’ve been trying to deny since freshman year. We’re explosive.
Even though it was just a quick fuck against a door, it was easily the best sex I’ve had. My heart flutters at the thought of him taking me properly. Feeling his large, powerful body against mine, tasting every inch. Taking his time.
I push the thought away as I move to clean up. Because that can never happen. I’ve tasted Zak and never will again. I have to live out the rest of my life knowing what I could have had, if only things were different.
My stomach twists as I think of the ring hidden in my desk at the Hive. Will Louis touch me with such reverence? Will he look at me like I’m the center of his world? Will he light me up inside? Will he make me feel . . . I shake my head. Thinking about the way Zak makes me feel won’t do either of us any favors.
Glancing in the mirror at my mussed hair and swollen lips, my heart sinks painfully, and I let out a deep sigh before heading back out into the bedroom. I’m a fucking idiot.
Zak looks up from where he’s leaning against Sol’s bedroom door, but the usual smile that lights his face when he sees me is gone—replaced by sadness. Does he regret what just happened? I suppose it doesn’t matter whether he does or not. We did what we did and now we both have to live with it.
“I should let you get back to the party,” I say, reaching around him to grip the handle.
His plump lips part with a small intake of breath, but then he nods and steps away, letting me leave. He lifts a hand as though he might reach for me, but I step past him out into the corridor, every step a lead weight. If he touches me, I might give in. I might forget that I belong to someone else. So, I don’t look back.
When Zak doesn’t follow me downstairs, I’m relieved. If nothing else, what just happened has made one thing perfectly clear. I need to stay as far away as possible from Zak Aldridge.