Chapter Nineteen
Melina
My blood felt like it was set to boil, and when he thrust his denim-covered erection against the palm of my hand, my whole body quaked with need.
It had only been about nine hours since our morning rendezvous in his truck and my first non-self-induced orgasm in over three years.
But after the things he’d just said, and the way he’d kissed me, it felt like it had been forever.
I needed him so fully it was a strain to hold back, and the more I got, the more I wanted.
Had my libido always been this insatiable? Or was it just because of him?
“You sure?” His hooded eyes searched mine.
Yes. I wanted to shout it from the rooftop, but his mouth and tongue cut off my reply. He kissed me deeply and, cupping my ass in both hands, lifted me off my feet.
I cried out as I lost contact with the ground and my grasp on his cock, but I held tight to his broad shoulders instead and wrapped my legs around him.
With his mouth fused to mine, he carried me out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom.
The room was dark, except for the light spilling in from the doorway, but Zane had no trouble finding his way to the bed.
He laid me on it, my dress bunching at my waist as I continued to squeeze my legs around him.
He lingered over me, his hands gripping tight to my middle, his mouth moving down my neck, and even though he’d done all the work of getting us here, I was the one who couldn’t catch my breath.
“Melina,” he said between kisses, his voice hoarse and needy. “Fuck, I want you. But I need you to make me a promise.”
My heart raced harder, my legs beginning to tremble. “What kind of promise?”
He pulled back to look at me, and the cockiness was gone. The playful charm and the easy confidence were all stripped away. What was left was raw and unguarded and so vulnerable it made my chest ache.
“Promise you’ll stay the night. I need to wake up with you in my bed.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
Those last five words hit somewhere deep. Deeper than desire. Deeper than lust.
I’d seen the fun Zane, the sexy Zane, the kind and caring Zane, but this man looming over me, who kissed me like it was his sole purpose in life, he was something else entirely.
Exposed truth and vulnerability. This version of Zane made it easy to believe all the barriers standing between us were mere inconveniences. Someone else’s problems.
That this thing between us could be real. That I’d been right. And the risk was so totally worth it.
“You want me to stay?” My skin prickled with heat.
“No, firecracker, I need you to. I’m way past simple wanting with you.”
“Yes. Whatever you want, whatever you need, yes.”
He groaned, and the sound was something beyond physical. It shot through me, hooked around my soul, and pulled.
With one hand, he tugged his shirt over his head. Sun-kissed skin stretched taut over hard muscle, the deep cut at his hips pointing straight to the thick bulge straining against his jeans.
Now if he would just lose those.
When he popped the button, I thought he’d read my mind, but the jeans stayed slung around his hips, and his hands moved to my legs instead. My flesh tingled as his fingers smoothed up my bare thighs to my hips, taunting me with light, teasing strokes.
“I need you naked,” he rasped, his teeth catching his bottom lip in a way that made me instantly wet.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He growled, his fingers biting into my flesh. “You’re going to be bossy in bed, aren’t you?”
A sly smile played on my lips because even though it’d been forever, my body knew what it wanted, and he was absolutely right—I wouldn’t be satisfied until I got it. “Maybe.”
“Fuck, you know I love that, don’t you?” His eyes dropped from mine to focus on his task. He propped my legs onto his shoulder and slowly dragged my panties over my hips and down my legs.
Before I could even offer to help, he sat me up, unhooked the back of my dress, pulled it off over my head, and tossed it aside. My bra followed close behind. I was left in nothing but my knee-high socks, and although I’d expected to feel exposed, nothing about the moment was awkward.
I lay back on the bed and stretched my arms overhead, arching my back almost involuntarily. The movement felt provocative, yet effortless, and when his eyes raked over me, his mouth falling open, I didn’t just feel wanted.
I felt powerful.
But I was impatient, overheated and aching, and the longer he sat and stared, the more feverish I became. “Touch me.”
A wicked smile graced his lips.
Damn, I was in deep trouble. And I didn’t want out.
He sat back on his haunches, his hands resting flat on his own thighs. “You’re like a buffet. I don’t even know where to start.”
Fuck, how long would he make me wait?
“Start anywhere.” I reached for him.
His expression shifted instantly. He caught my wrists and pinned them to the bed, his smile turning wolfish as he leaned over me. “You ready to beg for real now, Melina?” He slid both my wrists above my head and secured them with one hand.
“Oh,” I moaned, my whole body vibrating as he traced a single finger down my arm, over my collarbone, and straight down the center of my body.
I gasped when he reached the apex of my thighs and flattened his whole hand over my pussy. But then he reversed course, trailing one finger back up my middle before circling my aching breasts. That single finger touched me everywhere except the places I was desperate for it.
“Please.” I squirmed under him. “Please, I’m begging you.”
He leaned farther over me, his mouth barely out of reach. “What do you need?”
“You,” I cried. “Please, Zane, I just need you.”
His hold on me disappeared, and suddenly he was standing at the side of the bed. I watched with raw, aching desire as he shoved his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion, his eyes never leaving mine.
A drawer was opened. A condom retrieved. A low light illuminated.
My focus moved to the flex of his muscles and the sexy bob of his erection. He was thick and hard and straining, and the sight of him rolling the condom over his cock had me hovering on the edge of climax before he’d even touched me again. I couldn’t help but skim a hand down between my legs.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his eyes locked on my fingers, his own hand gripping his shaft. “You’re going to kill me.”
The bed dipped and he crawled toward me with a look that was pure, undisguised hunger. No performance. No charm. Just a man who wanted me badly enough to let it show.
No other man had ever brought me to the point where my mind shut off and my body took over. Where rules and reason were thrown away, and the risk I’d feared wasn’t just forgotten but welcomed.
Only Zane.
His mouth moved over me, from my hip to my stomach, up to my breasts. Hot, hungry, and relentless. His lips and tongue worked over every inch of skin they could find, and I gave myself over to every second of it.
When his fingers found me wet, he groaned against my breast, low and deep. When he circled my clit with a precision that made my vision blur, I moaned right along with him.
“Please, I need you inside me.”
“I need that too,” he said against my skin, his breath ragged. “So fucking much, it scares me.” He paused, pressing his forehead to my sternum. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t overthink it.” I dragged my nails up his back. “Just fuck me like you mean it.”
“Come here.” He surged up to capture my mouth, and the kiss was so deep and consuming it felt like falling. Then, with a slow, controlled thrust, he pushed inside me.
A bite of pain caught me—three years had been too long—but he held still, his arms trembling with the effort, giving me time to adjust. The sting gave way to a deeper, fuller sensation, and when my hips rocked up against his, the pleasure that rolled through me was blinding.
His hands gripped my hips. My nails dug into his ass. And when he started to move, the moan that ripped out of me was something almost feral.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he ground out between thrusts. “So tight. So fucking wet.” His hips punched forward, harder, deeper, and I arched off the bed to meet every one. “I’m never going to get enough of this. Of you.”
“Harder,” I gasped, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. “Don’t hold back.”
He didn’t. His pace shifted from controlled to ruthless, his body slamming into mine with an intensity that rattled the headboard. And through it all—every grunt, every groan, every bruising thrust—he praised me.
You’re so beautiful. So good. You take my cock so fucking well. All the dirty, filthy, beautiful things he said. I didn’t stand a chance.
I came so hard my entire body seized. My back bowed off the bed, my thighs clamped around him, and the scream that tore out of me was raw and loud and completely beyond my control.
But there was no coming down from that high.
He moaned as I clenched around him, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck. Again.” He shifted the angle of his hips and pressed his thumb against my clit, rubbing in tight circles while he continued to drive into me. “Give me one more before I come.”
I was already gone. His words, his hands, the relentless pressure of his cock hitting that spot deep inside me. It was too much. But it was his eyes that finished me. The way he looked at me like I was something rare. Something worth fighting for.
And in that moment, I could almost believe I was. He made me feel it. Trust it.
Another wave crashed through me, this one slower and deeper, rolling through my entire body and pulling a sound from my throat that was half sob, half moan.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he groaned, and it sounded like a prayer. The veins in his neck strained as he shuddered over me, his orgasm chasing mine, his hips jerking hard against me as he came.
He collapsed, rolling to his side and taking me with him, our bodies still connected.
We lay in silence, the only sound our ragged breathing, and the quiet tick of icy snow against the window. The weight of the moment caught me off guard, and unexpected tears gathered and fell before I could stop them.
Not sad tears. Not even happy ones, exactly. They were from holding everything together for so long that the relief of finally letting go was too big to contain.
“Hey.” He cupped my face and gently slipped out of me, his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek. “What’s this? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head, my throat too tight to explain.
“Wait here,” he said, covering me with the sheet and kissing the tip of my nose. “I’ll be right back.”
When he returned a moment later, I was still wiping my face, but my tears dried when he landed on the bed beside me with the entire tub of cookies in his hand.
“I’m not sure anything could top sex like that, but how about a snickerdoodle?”