Chapter 25 Kaye #2
The shower is large and just as immaculately clean as the room connected to it.
Marble tile covers the floor and walls. A tub sizable enough for two sits in one corner.
I look forward to the day we make use of that lovely fixture, but the star is the enclosed glass shower taking up the opposite corner and then some.
It is elegant in its simplicity, with three powerful jets raining down from either side and one in the ceiling.
Steam clouds billow around us, making the air warm and fragrant.
Zane begins to undress, and God, he’s remarkable.
His scars mark a pathway through our history, and I’m just as marked by him as he has been by me.
I hope he find them as beautiful as I do.
The bullet hole that nearly took his life is puckered and raised over the pectoral on the left side of his chest. It doesn’t look like much this close to a dose of his serum, but its severity sobers me for a moment.
I meet his eyes, and they are vibrant pools filled with longing.
I blush, turning away as his hands reach to unbutton the waist of his pants. What the hell is the matter with me? A gorgeous man wants to take a shower with me. A gorgeous man whose hand I was happily riding mere minutes before. Surely if I could do that, this is nothing.
Warmth pools along my spine as he stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my torso and nuzzling into the hair at the nape of my neck. “I’d love nothing more than to unwrap you like a present.”
I can feel every ridge and line of him through the fabric of my suit, his hard length pressing against the crest of my ass.
A shiver races across through me as I let my jacket fall to the floor.
Zane traces tingling tracks along my abdomen.
Each caress feels better than the next, and before I know it, I’m bare before him.
“You are exquisite, Kaye.”
There’s nothing but admiration in those violet eyes.
His chest is chiseled, muscled in the way that only fighters are.
Not bulky, but athletic, a body that can move quickly as well as throw a punch.
It tapers into fine hips and strong legs.
A sparse trail of hair leads the way down his stomach like an arrow pointing to heaven in the form of a defined V and an ample cock as thick as my wrist, standing tall and waiting. My mouth waters just looking at it.
I press a kiss on his shoulder, grazing the skin with my teeth. Then his hands are in my hair, gently fisting the strands near my roots and capturing my bottom lip in a sharp bite.
The glass door closes out all remnants of the outside world.
Heat seeps into my weary muscles, the jets providing a massage-like quality.
I have only a moment to marvel at that wonderful pressure before Zane presses into my back, bringing us both under the waterfall shower head.
Droplets create rivers across his face, catching in the thick fringe of his lashes.
His eyes are dark with an almost feral edge simmering just below the surface.
“Poor little Checkmate, alone and at my mercy. What shall I do with you?”
My equilibrium shifts, every cell in my body reacting to the danger in his voice.
I shouldn’t like how it feels. My body shouldn’t flush at the thought of being his prey, tracked and trapped, but it does something to me.
It’s a game we barely started in the nights leading up to this, but he has been holding himself back.
I’ve wanted so badly to return even a fraction of the pleasure he has given to me, and now I finally can.
I can give in to my darkest and most forbidden dreams, can admit now how much I craved him. My enemy.
“Charade,” I gasp.
He turns me then, his powerful arms bracketing me in, pulling me against him and keeping me there with one hand across my stomach, the other wrapped around my throat.
My back is pressed to his chest, the firm, rigid line of his cock nestled against the cleft of my ass.
I whimper, letting myself fall into the role. The game.
Droplets gather on my skin, cool and warm, and I don’t want to consider if the wetness dripping at the apex of my thighs is from that or from him.
My skin feels tight, hyperaware and over-sensitive.
All I can hear is the song of water against our bodies and the beating of my heart.
I’m so focused, so ready and waiting, that the texture of something hot and slick tracing the shell of my ear startles me.
He laughs, the soft probing of his tongue quickly followed by a sharp nip of his teeth.
“Relax, Checkmate,” he hums. “You’re safe. And you’re going to do exactly what I say, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” I suck in a breath, as his lips brush the sensitive spot where jaw meets ear. His next words unfurl against my ear and send a spear of pleasure directly to my clit.
“If you want this to stop, all you have to do is say, ‘I surrender.’” He rumbles in a low and menacing voice. “That’s your safe word. Nod if you understand.”
I do as he asks, my heartbeat picking up as I figure out my next move in our fantasy. “You don’t scare me, Charade.”
He smirks against my skin. His fingers tighten briefly around my neck. “We’ll see.”
Anticipation licks at my core, and I know I must be drenched already.
“Palms on the wall,” he commands. “And leave them there.”
A tremble builds in my abdomen and spreads to my knees. His tone brooks no argument, is almost clinical in its force, but still, I answer, “Make me.”
His dick twitches against me, settling somehow harder than before.
When he laughs, it reverberates in my chest. Gods, I must be crazy because we both know he can.
If he wanted to, he could have me in a boneless, sobbing heap at his feet, too blissed out to move, all with a tendril of his power.
It wouldn’t take much, not with the amount of skin that is touching him.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My power sinking into you, making you my sweet little fuck-puppet tied up in my strings, and all the while you could keep your precious virtues about you.
As tempting as that sounds, little martyr, when you’re screaming in pleasure and begging for my cock it will be your words coming from your mouth, not mine.
I’m not just going to fuck you—I’m going to corrupt you.
Now put your hands on the wall and don’t move. ”
I do it slowly, and the coolness of the tiles, the moisture gathering there, is a relief from how hot I feel. His grip eases ever so slightly as I move, adjusting with me as I bend.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises. “Spread those legs for me, let me get a look at that pretty pussy.”
My face burns as I follow the command. His hand on my hip has kept me firmly in place. I keep my arms as straight as possible against the wall, but even being bent at this shallow angle feels obscene. I’m presenting my ass like a bitch in heat.
“So obedient,” he hums, his fingers leaving my neck to trail down my spine, goose bumps blooming in their wake.
I jerk as he continues on to the seam of my ass, his fingers splaying wide to palm a cheek.
“Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me over the years?
How you’ve taunted me? How many nights I have lain awake, my head filled with forbidden thoughts of you? ”
“No.”
“Every night, Kaye,” he growls. “I wanted you every fucking night. How should I repay that? How should I punish you for that torment?”
His fingers dip lower and I hold my breath as he brushes against my folds. Softly. So goddamn softly. And it’s so close to where I want him and yet far too far away.
“Zane.” I start to turn, to move away from the wall.
He fists my hair and tugs. I cry out, more from shock than from pain, and his hand leaves my aching core to cover my mouth while he bends to growl in my ear. “Hands on the fucking wall, Checkmate.”
Only after I replace them does his grip on my hair loosen.
My neck aches, the muscles protesting the sudden strain.
Instead of leaning forward again, I allow my head to fall back, pillowed against the crook of his shoulder.
My back is bowed, my tits and ass pushed out on display for him, but it feels so good to feel him behind me. His strength holding me.
“That wasn’t very good.” I can see his face now, see him looking down on my body with hunger.
The hand that was in my hair skates down my side, stopping on my rib cage.
His fingertips flick forward to brush the side of my breast. I shiver as he palms me, testing the weight in his hand.
His thumb brushes my taut nipple and I can’t help it; I moan into his palm.
“So responsive and I’ve barely even touched you. Are you going to be good for me?”
I nod, but the world goes hazy white as he plucks the sensitive peak and rolls it between finger and thumb.
My knees buckle, but I manage to stay upright and keep my hands in their place.
He repeats the movement, this time to my other tit and I can’t stop my hips from grinding against his delicious length just to get some friction.
He groans, “Such a fucking tease.”
“Please, Charade.” I shudder as he rolls his hips, the base of his shaft nearly caressing my clit, just the whisper of sensation. It’s maddening.
“Are you surrendering?”
“Never.”
My shoulder blades hit the wall as he spins me. I almost slip, but his arm is there to catch me, his body shielding mine from the water. His other hand has already gathered my wrists and is dragging them over my head.
“I want to touch you,” I protest.
He dips his head, coasting his lips across mine in a phantom kiss that I feel through my bones.
“Like I wanted to touch you all those years?” His breath tickles my lips, and fuck—is he going to tease me all night?
I don’t have to wonder long. He pushes my legs wider, his eyes pinning me in place as I wait in breathless anticipation to feel the pads of his fingers return to where I want them most. Then he parts me, and I swear I could die at how good it feels, but he’s still not touching me where I need it most.
Two of his fingers trace my labia, in and out, slickly massaging my clit. His breath goes rough, haggard, as he touches me. A choked groan rises in his chest, and the look in his eyes is hot enough to burn.
“So fucking wet,” he rumbles. “All for me. I want to hear you say it. I want you to admit that your pussy is soaking wet and ready for a villain’s cock. For my cock. And then you’re going to beg for it.”
I clench at his words. I’m sure he can feel it, that my whole body is primed for him to pull its secrets from. It should scare me how much I want that, but I’m so tired of worrying about what I should or shouldn’t feel. All that matters is the here and now.
I gasp as one of his fingers breaches my entrance, gently probing at first, and then stretching and spreading my slickness.
He adds a second finger and I buck against the wall.
He stills, the heel of his palm hovering over me, teasing me, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gages my reaction.
“Say it.”
I struggle against his grip, desperate to make him move, to end this torture. I try to roll my hips, but he steps into me, his knees digging into my legs to pin me in place. Cursing, I swallow down my frustration, but still can’t bring myself to give him what he wants. Not yet.
“You’re not a villain, Zane.”
It was the wrong thing to say. I know it even before the feral grin spreads across his lips. “Am I not?”
I feel it then, deep within me where his fingers are pressed inside me: tendrils of his power pushing into me.
“Fuck.” I tremble against him, curious and eager and terrified for what he’ll do next.
The feeling of his power coursing inside me never comes, never spreads past the center of my being. Whatever will he is whispering into my body doesn’t reach my mind. I’m not sure he’s doing anything at all until my muscles start to quiver, sending pleasure pulsing through me.
I’m writhing under him now, and I don’t even care.
I’d do anything—anything at all to get him moving in me.
I can feel my walls practically vibrating around him, and each almost-touch sends a lick of flame up my body.
The fire building within me is an inferno of want and I’ll die if he doesn’t let me burn.
“Charade,” I choke out.
He seems so controlled, almost condescendingly unaffected by what he’s doing to me, but his dark gaze is lit with it. With hunger and power, the pleasure that only he can grant. I’m so turned on and tightly wound the barest graze could make me snap, but only at his pleasure. Only under his command.
“What’s the matter? Something you want to say?
” He leans forward and licks a long strip from the tip of my nipple up the column of my throat and gives a shallow bite just under my ear.
“I’m your villain, Checkmate. Only yours.
Now do as you’re told and I’ll let that pretty pink pussy come all over my fingers. ”
His fingers work me once—twice, stretching out with each pass, his thumb coming up to circle the concentrated bud of nerves beating along with my heart. I’m getting wetter and wetter, the whole scene so hot that I have to be gushing around his fingers.
“God, please fuck me, Zane. Please.” Tears are mixing with the steam and water from the shower around us to course down my face. His tongue traces the track.
“Who do you want to fuck you?”
“Charade.” I sob. “Please fuck me, Charade. Please. I’m so fucking wet for you. Please, please.”
His eyes close as he tilts his head toward the ceiling, a look of pure ecstasy on his face. “I could come right now, just hearing you say it.”
My whole body vibrates beneath him. I’ve lost the ability to form coherent sentences, but I know I’ll shatter if he keeps me suspended in this agony another moment.
“Please,” I beg. “Please.”
He smirks. “You know this state you’re in right now, right on the edge of orgasm and never quite able to get there? I can keep you there, suspended for as long as I want.”
“No,” I whimper. “Please.”
He nods, and I’m terrified he means to make good on the threat. That he’ll leave me lost and craving forever. “You’re going to ride me so well, aren’t you, little martyr? You’re going to ride me and come over and over until I’m done with you and your legs are coated in my pleasure. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I pant. “So good. It’ll be so good.”
He covers my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging in to claim me. I suck him further, tasting and taking as much from him as he is from me, until he’s moaning into my mouth and pulling me down with him on the shower floor.