Jaime
JAIME
I’m on fire. Burning under the intensity of Zak’s gaze, every inch of me alight at the feel of his hard body against mine. I shouldn’t have come to his hotel. I shouldn’t have come up to his room. Did I want this to happen? Had I known this might be a possibility? How am I supposed to pull away from something I want this badly?
Zak’s grip on my chin is almost painful, his own jaw clenched as he stares at me, waiting for my decision. How can I end something that never began? My mind flits to the prenup sitting on my bedroom dresser, still unsigned, my ring beside it. Is it as simple as he says?
I can’t just walk away. Not from Louis. Not from my family. And apparently, not from Zak. But I can’t have it all.
I honestly don’t mean to, but my hips move against my will, seeking out friction from where his cock is trying to break free of his tuxedo pants. He groans and drops his forehead to mine.
“,” he breathes, the smell of bourbon brushing over my skin. “You’re killing me.”
He’s so close. So goddamn perfect. I tilt my head, rubbing my nose along his, our lips barely touching. My body aches as though I might just die if I don’t have him, the throbbing between my thighs almost unbearable.
“I want you so badly, Zak,” I whisper.
He groans in response, his hips shifting and drawing another whimper from me. “I told you before. I’m yours, Kitty Cat. I’ve always been yours.”
My heart aches as I part my lips, taking his mouth with mine, and it’s as though I’ve opened the cage and set him free.
Zak rolls us with a rumbling growl, settling on top of me as he kisses me breathless, and I melt beneath him. My hands roam over his broad shoulders, exploring his back and untucking the white shirt from his pants to grasp the warm skin beneath.
I don’t get far before he pulls away, breathing hard. For a moment, I wonder whether he’s come to his senses as he slides off the bed and stands. But then, he reaches for the waistband of my sweats and pulls them down, dragging them along my legs before dropping them to the floor, leaving me in my white lace thong.
His eyes are molten as he stares down at me and I squirm under his gaze. Just as I go to reach for him, he drops to his knees at the foot of the bed and drags me toward him.
I gasp as he parts my thighs, burying his face between my legs and running his nose over the scrap of material covering my throbbing core. He slides the material to the side, and I can barely breathe, fisting the sheets as his breath ghosts over my skin in teasing waves.
“Zak,” I whine, my hips canting.
He slowly pulls my thong down and off, before extending a single finger, sliding through the slick want between my legs until he comes to my clit, where he begins to rub tortuous circles. It’s not enough, and my body pulses with need.
As I open my eyes, I find him watching me, his expression dark and unreadable. Then, I realize. This is punishment. He’s going to give me everything I want—everything I need—but he’s not going to make it easy. He’s making a fucking point. Making sure I remember how much I want him.
And I’ll take it.
Gladly.
I deserve every ounce of punishment he can give me, and I’ll receive it gratefully if it means longer with him. Perhaps he sees the acceptance in my eyes, because the second I lie back and take a breath, his tongue licks a sure stripe through me, and I cry out.
Zak groans, his hands gripping my inner thighs, spreading me almost painfully wide as he devours me, alternating between licking and sucking, fucking me with his tongue before teasing my clit. Every time I get close, he pulls back, pressing kisses to my inner thighs until my breathing evens out. Then he repeats the process.
After the fourth time, I’m almost sobbing, his name a pleading loop on my lips. I’m so resigned to what he’s doing, that when he pushes two fingers inside me, sucking hard on my clit, I cry out as I come immediately, clenching around his fingers in pulsing waves, my legs trembling.
My eyes open as the bed dips, and I find him leaning over me, his eyes roaming my face. He presses two fingers to my lips.
“Open,” he murmurs. “Taste how much you want me, Kitty Cat. How much you want this.”
I do as he says, and he pushes his fingers inside, stroking my tongue as I suck him clean.
Then he reaches between us and takes hold of the zipper on my black velour hoodie. He pulls it down slowly, swearing under his breath as he realizes I’m not wearing anything underneath.
My dress was boned in a way I didn’t need a bra, so when I threw on my loungewear to come and find him, I didn’t think past needing to see him.
Zak runs his fingers down between my breasts, shaking his head, before pulling my arms free of the sleeves and dropping the hoodie to the floor, leaving me naked beneath him. He’s still fully dressed, his shirt only partly untucked from our initial kiss, and my heart speeds at being so exposed for him.
As if realizing the same thing, he stands and stares down at me, his rich brown eyes slowly moving over every bare inch of me, drinking his fill. I try not to squirm, letting him know that I submit. I’ll take everything he has to give and more.
Slowly, Zak unbuttons his cuffs, his eyes continuing to look over me, leaving trails of burning desire in their wake. He moves onto his buttons, each one exposing another inch of hard, brown skin, and my breathing becomes little more than breathy pants. The visual is too much, I’m aching for him, and I press my thighs together.
Zak pauses, then reaches out and grips my knees, tugging my legs apart until I’m completely exposed to him.
“I want to see,” he says, his voice gruffer than usual. “I want to see how much you want me.”
It’s too much. My nipples are hard, my breasts aching, as need throbs in time with my heartbeat between my legs. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
Far too slowly, Zak shrugs out of his shirt, his muscles contracting, and I drink in the definition of his abs and the vee that disappears beneath his snug black pants. I swallow hard, and I swear for a split second, I see a glimpse of Zak’s usual cocky grin. But then it’s gone. Replaced by the hard, scorching glare I’ve accepted I deserve.
“Move up the bed,” he commands, reaching for the button on his pants.
I swallow, watching him track the sway of my breasts as I do as he says. When I’m settled amongst the pillows, he unzips his pants and hooks his thumb inside the waistband, pushing them down along with his black boxer briefs. My mouth runs dry as his long, hard cock springs free, and I marvel at the sight I’ve imagined for years. Zak Aldridge, naked and ready in front of me. Six foot four inches of hard, brown muscle—a body crafted by the fucking gods.
He reaches for his cock, tugging it roughly a couple of times before climbing up on the bed between my open legs. I’m so ready for him. He pauses in front of me on his knees, his expression hardening as he looks me over, and a trickle of panic settles in my chest. Is he having second thoughts? A small noise escapes my throat at the thought of him stopping this, and he blinks, snapping out of whatever thought spiral he’d been in.
“Sit up,” he says, his voice rough.
When I do as he says, he reaches for my hair, touching his fingers to the pins keeping it off my face.
“Take these out,” he says. “You dressed up for him. I don’t want you like that.”
My heart twists, and I almost open my mouth to tell him that he’s wrong—that I dressed up for me, not for Louis. Never for Louis. But I don’t. Instead, I give him what he needs, and reach up to tug out the pins, placing them on the nightstand as my hair falls back around my face.
“Better,” he breathes.
I sit, waiting for his next instruction, not daring to reach for him in case he changes his mind. I need this. I want this. Even if it’s selfish and wrong, because it really can’t happen again. That’s why I submit, when what I really want to do is push him to the bed and ride his dick until I see stars.
Zak pulls me to my knees, roughly turning me to face the wall, and places my hands on the padded headboard. Nudging my legs apart with his, I moan as his hands reach around to squeeze my breasts, his fingers pinching my hardened nipples. His dick presses against my back as he kisses and nips at the skin along my shoulder and neck, and I grip the headboard until my fingers ache.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he shifts, his hands gripping my hips tight as he lifts me slightly, positioning me over his cock. I really hope his mom isn’t in the room next door, because I moan loud enough to wake the dead as he thrusts into me hard; his thick length stretching and pushing me to my limits. Before I can take a breath, he snaps his hips again, slamming into me with such force, I fall forward, bracing myself on the headboard.
Zak holds onto my hips, fucking into me relentlessly, using me for his pleasure, and I love every second of it.
My body clenches around him as I reach the edge and I already know it’s coming when he pulls out of me, breathing hard. I don’t move, my head bowed, body trembling as I wait for him to take me again.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he presses a kiss to my shoulder and lifts my hands from the headboard, laying me on my back amongst the pillows. Before I can question what’s happening, he settles over me, caging me between his arms as he slowly eases back into me.
Carefully, I reach for him, tracing every inch of available skin with my fingers, memorizing the feel of him as he moves in me. Zak dips his head, taking my mouth in a tender kiss, and I wrap my legs around him, digging my heels into his firm ass, urging him deeper. As though there might be some way to meld us together so I don’t have to let him go. So I can keep him always.
Zak’s steady thrusts pick up as the need between us grows, our kisses becoming breathy and sloppy, punctuated by moans and gasps as we both chase our release. When I arch beneath him, my body throbbing with the bliss of release, he pushes deep inside me, his hips falling off rhythm as he follows after with a rumbling groan.
I cling to him, burying my face in his neck and feeling the pounding of his heart against mine as the aftershocks of my orgasm flicker through my body like sparks.
“You might not want to admit it,” he says, his voice still breathless against my skin. “But just as much as I’m yours. You’re mine.”
Squeezing my burning eyes closed, I hold him tighter, wishing it was that simple.
“I’m going to find a way to get you out of this,” he says, pulling back to look at me. “You’re not marrying Louis.”
My heart throbs with hope, but I shake my head. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor, Zak. I’m not a princess in a tower who needs saving.”
He pulls out of me, dropping to the side, and I immediately mourn the loss. “What if I want to do it anyway?”
“You can’t save me, Zak.” I turn and face him, tucking an arm under my head. “This is real life. There are no happily ever afters.”
He sighs deeply, turning to face me, and I’m hit with how we’ve ended up exactly as we started. Minus clothes.
He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. “That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”
I shrug as best I can in this position. “The truth usually is.”
We stare at each other for a minute more, then I push up and roll off the bed to clean up in the bathroom. I don’t look at myself in the mirror. I don’t want to see what waits for me there. As long as I’m here, in his room, the guilt and regret can be held at bay.
When I step back into the bedroom, I’m not sure what to expect and I eye Zak warily, finding him under the covers, his arms behind his head.
“Come here,” he says. It’s not a question.
I eye my clothes, knowing I need to get going. I didn’t tell my parents I was going out, and even though I’m a grown woman, I know they’ll freak out if I’m not there when they wake up.
“I’m not asking you to stay the night,” he says. “Just a few minutes.”
Ignoring common sense for the hundredth time tonight, I climb onto the bed beside him, sliding down under the covers. He’s still naked and, despite being completely sated, my body thrums as he pulls me to his chest.
“I hope you’re ready for my white horse, Kitty Cat,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead and pulling me tighter. “Because if you’re not willing to save yourself. I will.”
I want to tell him no, but it appears I’ve used up all my ‘nos’ when it comes to Zak Aldridge, because I say nothing as I wrap myself around him and close my eyes.