Chapter 56 Zeth
Zeth
I was right. The occupants of the villa are still slumbering as I make my way to the dining area just off the kitchen.
Jacob’s maids are the only ones up and about, setting up food for the houseguests and undoubtedly preparing finger food for tonight’s little show.
I grab two cups of coffee, a plate of sliced fruit, and some toasted bagels and set up at a small table in the corner of the room, waiting for Sloane.
She doesn’t take long to get ready—another thing I like about her.
The last chick I waited on took over an hour to fuck around with her hair and makeup.
Sloane takes only fifteen minutes before she comes to find me.
If she’s wearing any makeup, it isn’t much.
Just a little mascara and some lip gloss.
Her hair is wet. She looks like she’s towel-dried it some, but the wet ends have made dark, see-through patches over her tits where the water has seeped through her shirt. Shit, she looks hot.
“Ohhh, coffee.” She groans as she takes a sip, closing her eyes.
I wonder if she realizes that’s a total porn move.
I can’t picture her watching much in the way of porn, but who knows.
I’ve been so wrong about her before. Regardless, the situation in my pants worsens as my cock stiffens all over again. I’m fucking raging this morning.
“So, what?” she asks. “How is tonight gonna go down?”
“Well.” I shift in my seat. Pick up the saltshaker. Put it down again. “There are going to be a lot of people here. We’re gonna find Alexis, and then we’re gonna get the hell out of here while we can. We’re gonna leave your car here and go in mine.”
She shakes her head. “That’s my dad’s car. He’ll kill me if I don’t take it back.”
Sloane’s worried about her dad’s Oldsmobile, and we’re surrounded by unhinged sociopaths? Nice. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars if that car can get up to sixty,” I say.
“Oh, it definitely can’t.”
“Right. Plus it has wood paneling.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means I’m not driving a fucking car with wood paneling is what it means.”
She shrugs off the critique, smiling as she sips her coffee.
“Well, I suppose Dad will have to be happy to get his daughter back instead then, won’t he?
” She looks so fucking elated that my stomach clenches.
She hasn’t even laid eyes on Alexis yet, but she has absolute faith that she’s going to be leaving here with her sister tonight.
I, on the other hand, have a few doubts.
“Shit’ll get nasty real quick if Jacob lays eyes on us. We have to keep to ourselves. Try and be invisible.”
She seems entertained by this notion. “It’s sweet that you think that’s possible. With you here. You didn’t hear those girls talking last night, though. They’re desperate to see you.” The tone of her voice turns sour, betraying how she feels about that.
“So that’s why you asked if I was riddled with disease last night, then?” Last night is pretty much the last thing I want to talk about, but this is too delicious. “Were you jealous, Sloane? Hmm?”
Sloane squirms in her seat, cheeks flushing. “No, I was not jealous! I was worried for my own safety!”
Such a liar. Oh, well. Let her pretend if she wants to. “Yeah, well, like I said. I don’t pay for sex.”
“What about Alaska? She doesn’t count because she’s Jacob’s mistress?”
“Alaska? Alaska doesn’t count because she’s a crazy bitch. I’ve turned that girl down more times than I can count.” Sloane raises her coffee mug to her face, but I can see the crinkling at the corners of her eyes. She’s smiling. “Why? Did she say I’d fucked her?”
“Oh, she implied it, that’s for sure. Some of the girls were speculating over, um…” Her eyes travel south, staring straight through the tabletop, lasering right into my crotch.
“My dick? They were talking about my dick?” Oh, this just gets better and better. Sloane’s face is a bright shade of red now.
“Alaska said it was big, but she’d had bigger.”
“I’ve never fucked Alaska. She’s probably seen my dick, though. And I’m sure she has seen bigger. Alaska used to work in porn. The guys who work in that industry are normally way above average.”
“Well, I’m sure you could work in porn, then.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, Sloane starts choking on her coffee. Ahhh, poor woman. She did not mean to say that out loud. I bite back the urge to grin.
“Sloane Romera. Did you just compliment my cock?” She wheezes, trying to breathe, but I can’t help it. This is just too easy. “I have to say, I’m almost flattered.”
“I meant that—Ah, forget it. Yes, I did. It’s massive. Are you happy? Do you feel validated as a man now?”
She’s doing a valiant job of trying to own this, but she’s dying of embarrassment. “I’m already validated as a man, Sloane. I feel like a man every time I make you scream. No, fuck that. I feel like a king every time I make you scream.”
She stops spluttering and rearranging things on the table and just looks at me. It’s the look in her eyes that does it. I can’t stop myself. There’s only so much a guy can take, and having her look at me like that is my limit.
“Stand up, Sloane.”
“What?”
“Stand up. Follow me.” I get up, abandoning my coffee and my untouched breakfast, holding out my hand. She hesitates for a second before taking it.
“Where are we going?”
We make it as far as the hallway and give up my original plan. We’re not going to make it to the bedroom. I duck into the first alcove we pass, lift her up and pin her against the wall, slamming my body up against hers.
“Zeth!”
“Yeah, just like that. My name on your lips—that’s what makes me feel like a man,” I growl.
Her wet hair brushes my face as I kiss her neck, her jawline, her collarbone.
She tastes fresh and clean and uniquely her.
My cock throbs in my pants, so fucking hard.
I have to have her. I can’t fucking wait.
I rip the T-shirt over her head and immediately bury my face in her cleavage.
The. Most. Amazing. Tits. Ever. I pin her with the lower half of my body, her legs wrapped around my waist, and from there, I can then grab hold of those beautiful tits and squeeze.
Sloane gasps, her head rocking back to expose more of her neck.
I don’t have enough fucking hands. I want to be stroking and touching her everywhere.
“Damn it, girl.” I huff against her skin, grinding my dick against her. It feels amazing; I want to push harder, to sink myself so deep inside her that she screams. Forget worrying about her waking the house. I want to make her scream loud enough to wake the dead.
She’s incredible. I take both her tits and push them together so that the pink, tightened nipples stand erect, begging me to play.
She makes stifled moaning sounds as I lick at her, sucking each nipple in turn and then biting down just hard enough to make her hiss.
Her head kicks forward and a memory comes crashing back to me—her kissing me the last time I fucked her like this.
How she just leaned forward and smashed her lips against mine, digging her hands in her hair.
How it set me on fire. I can tell she’s thinking about that kiss, too.
It would be the most natural thing in the world to kiss her now.
It would be easy. Suddenly, my heart is slamming inside my chest, each and every beat chanting, I can’t.
I can’t. I can’t. I back off and let her legs slide down, so that her feet are on the floor.
“What’s—”
I unbutton her pants before she can finish. She’s going to ask what’s wrong, and I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t wanna hear about right and wrong. This whole situation, her and me, none of it qualifies under either heading.
I rip her pants down, smirking a little when she has to put her hands on my shoulders for balance. I’m not gentle. I tear them off her body, taking her dainty little leather ballet flats with them.
She stands in her panties, hands twitching at her sides, trying to decide whether she wants to cover her chest or not. She’s all curves and soft lines, slim yet feminine, shy but completely unaware of the sexual energy she exudes.
I have to fuck this girl.
Right fucking now.
“Turn around, Sloane.” She gives me a guarded look, but her chest is heaving. She’s as turned on as I am. She’ll do anything I ask her to right now, and that thought is like kindling to a flame. She shoves away from the wall, turning slowly, giving me a hesitant last glance over her shoulder.
I take one look at her ass in the black lace underwear she’s wearing, and I’m done for.
Three seconds later, I’m out of my clothes.
I run my hands down the toned lines of her back and then cup her ass cheeks, sucking in a sharp breath through my teeth.
I can’t wait. I can’t fucking wait to slam home on that thing.
It takes monumental restraint to gently push Sloane forward, so that she’s bracing the wall.
Perfect. This is exactly what I was going for: Sloane, hands planted against the wall, bent over at the waist, presenting her ass to me.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s trembling with need. I wasn’t joking before—I feel like the motherfucking king of the world when I do this to her.
I slide my hands over her sides and curve myself over her, reaching to palm her tits.
They hang down, heavy and full, so amazing.
I feel like a kid in a playground, and her body is my own personal ride.
I thrust my hips against her and nearly explode right there and then when she bows her back like a cat and pushes back.
“Fuck, Sloane.”
“Fuck me,” she returns. “Fuck me now. Please. Please…”