Chapter 44 Sloane #2
“I am not.” I squirm pointlessly, but no luck.
I needn’t bother, though. Zeth does something even more confusing and relinquishes his hold on me, then swinging himself off of my body and leaning back against the pillows.
He let me go? He let me go! I jump up, spinning around and staring at him incredulously.
The seriousness hasn’t left his face. His hand hasn’t left his cock.
He pauses only a second to lift his hips, abdominal muscles flexing tightly, as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulls them down.
His cock springs free, resting heavily against his belly as he gets rid of his underwear.
The sight of him lying there, naked and completely unashamed—Why the hell would he be ashamed?
He’s magnificent and he knows it—makes my breath catch in my throat.
He picks up where he left off, taking hold of himself in his right hand, drawing it slowly up and down the rigid skin.
The whole time he does this, he stares at me without a scrap of shame. His eyes never waver from mine.
“You’re totally fucked up, you know that?” I fold my arms across my chest. “What the hell are you going for here? You expect me to shed my clothes like Bruce Almighty and jump up on that thing just ’cause you got it out?”
A small smile breaks through the severity of his expression.
It tics at the corner of his mouth. “No. I expect you to take your clothes off slow. And then I expect you to climb up on this bed on your hands and knees and I expect you to take this thing”—he squeezes his dick in his hand, making himself shiver slightly—“and put it in your mouth. And then I expect you to suck it until I tell you that you can stop.”
“Hah!” I stride across the room, eyeing the chair jammed under the door handle. Great. He wedged it there really well. I shove the thing as hard as I can, and voila! I knock it loose. “You are probably the most delusional man I have ever met,” I snarl over my shoulder.
Zeth shrugs, pouting a little. Maybe. Maybe not. As if I care. “Where d’you think you’re going, angry girl? Forgotten where you are?”
He has a point there. Infuriating. I slap my hand against the closed door, grimacing. “Fine. Okay. I’m not leaving the room. But I am not obeying you just because you told me to.”
“Would you prefer to obey me because you’re frightened for your life?” he asks casually. Was that a threat? Damn it, I can’t tell. He seems genuinely interested.
“How about this. I refuse to obey you for any reason whatsoever.” I pace back to the chair I slept in and slump down in it, making a point of looking out the window. Anywhere but at him and what he’s doing to himself.
“Fair enough.” Unbothered. Unapologetic.
His gaze rests heavy on my skin. The room falls quiet other than the sounds of his palm working his cock and the increasingly ragged sound of his breathing.
How can he lie there, jerking himself off, naked, and not even flinch when the woman he’s trying to excite seems more revolted than interested?
Psycho. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
His body is a fucking work of art. Especially strained the way it is, locked tight against each stroke he glides up and down with his palm.
He grips himself tighter, sucking in a sharp breath, and chuckles slightly when he catches me watching him.
I flick my eyes back out the window, cursing.
Don’t play this fucking game. Do not play with him.
It’s only a matter of a minute before I’m glancing back, though.
He lets out a low, hazy rumble from deep within his chest, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
My legs start to twitch. The warm, pooling sensation forming between them is intensifying by the second.
Bastard. How? How the hell does he do this to me?
I shift, at war with my body, trying to make it obey me and not him.
But it wants to watch him. God, I want to watch him.
He doesn’t laugh when he sees me observing this time.
He just looks down at himself, expression full of sex and invitation.
And then he closes his eyes, tipping his head back, and leaves me alone to come to my own decision.
His hand works faster, his breath quickening, too.
I’m left wondering what the hell I want to do.
But I’ve had this conversation with myself before, haven’t I?
He’s so smart. He shows me what he could take from me if he wanted to and then turns the tables, making me realize how much I want him to have it anyway.
I hate that. On principle, I don’t want to succumb to the manipulation this time.
He needs to know he’s not as smart as he thinks he is.
Only he is. He’s an evil fucking mastermind.
I stand up.
At the sound of movement, a broad smile unfurls across Zeth’s face, but he keeps his eyes closed.
Probably to save what’s left of my fragile pride.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Every single time we do this, I’m coming to him on his terms, I’m pathetic.
I lose my clothes slowly, even though he can’t see, giving myself time to change my mind.
I don’t. I crawl up the bed just like he wants me to, and then hover over him as he smoothly works his cock up and down.
It’s swollen, huge, and kind of… beautiful.
I exhale, and my breath skims across his skin, making him shiver.
“I wanna feel those lips, Sloane,” he says gruffly.
“Oh, okay. So, just so I understand. It’s okay to put them on your dick, but not on your mouth.”
He stiffens at the acid in my tone. Doesn’t justify the barb with a response, though.
Fucker. I have something in mind to teach him a lesson.
I duck down, pulse throbbing in my lips, and I take him in my mouth.
I’ve done this to him only once before. That time, I was on my back.
He’d towered over me like a giant, his presence still somehow looming over me in that dark hotel room.
He’d tangled his fingers into my hair and guided my head.
Now, Zeth doesn’t even touch me. At the first contact from my lips, he splays his fingers against the sheets, pressing down on the mattress with all his strength.
He’s huge, warm, and already tasting musky.
I bob my head lower, taking more of him into my mouth.
“Holy shit, Sloane.” His deep groan has a rather gratifying effect.
He likes this. He likes it, and technically I’m the one who’s in control right now.
Time for a little payback. I duck my head lower, sliding more of him past my lips, until I can’t go any farther.
And then I bite down. Not very hard. Just enough to let him know he hasn’t entirely won this round.
The reaction is instant.
He flings me off him so fast I barely catch sight of the ceiling before I’m on my back and then sliding off the bed and onto the floor.
“Oh, no, no, no, Sloane,” he growls, stalking toward me.
“Slapping’s one thing. But that? You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.
” His face is blank. Not a good sign. From my pretzeled position on the floor, legs half on the bed, half over my own head, I should be freaking the fuck out, but I must be crazy, because I’m laughing.
The hysteria lasts all of ten seconds as he gets up and paces to the other side of the room, opening the door to the walk-in closet. My smile dissolves at the sight of the black bag in his hand. Fear, desire. Fear, desire. The emotions take turns electrifying me.
He throws the bag down at the side of the bed and begins to unzip it. “Up onto the bed, Sloane.”
“No.”
He stops, looks up at me, leans forward, and says, “Do we really need to go through this again? You reap what you sow, Sloane. It’s time for you to learn how to behave.
” He raises his eyebrows in challenge. He gave me a small amount of power, and I abused it.
Now, I have to suffer the consequences. And yet, deep down, I think I’ve been waiting for this to happen.
And… wanting it to. I ease back up onto the bed as cautiously as I can.
Zeth nods once and finishes opening the bag.
“Spread your legs.”
I comply. Oh, for the darkness of that hotel room. Zeth has a look of revenge about him as he climbs up over my body. “I’m not gonna tie you up this time. But you should know, you do anything that involves your teeth and my dick again, and there’ll be hell to pay. Understand?”
I nod, wondering what he has in mind. And then I see the small, narrow, tweezer-like instrument in his hand. “What is that?”
Zeth grips the device with a level of pleasure that has me squirming on my back, suddenly regretting that I gave in so easily. “This is what you get for being bad,” he says.
I quiver as he runs his hands up the insides of my legs, stooping down to lick the sensitive skin just before my pussy.
He grazes his lips and tongue across my hot skin, licking again and again, but it’s all teasing.
Nowhere near where I need him to lick me.
I’m beginning to feel frustrated, angling my hips up to him, opening myself to him, when I feel the cool metal against my core.
My body quakes with sudden nerves, but Zeth grabs my hip in his free hand, sending a warning look up my body.
“I suggest you stay very… very still, Sloane.”
The metal instrument in his hand turns out to be a clamp. I know this because he swiftly clamps it to my clitoris, causing me to yelp in shock. When he flicks the cool metal, pain tinged pleasure volts around my body.
“Zeth!” My cry bounces off the walls. “Oh my God, do not do that again!”
He does do it again, a malicious look of glee on his face. My legs spasm, wanting to draw up and protect me—I can’t help it—and Zeth shakes his head in mock disapproval.