Chapter Forty-Five
Chloe
I hadn’t seen Zane since yesterday morning in the garden. He didn’t come looking for me after and honestly, I didn’t want him to, though I’d missed his warmth throughout the night.
I was starting to get used to the after-sex exhaustion and his scent lingering around me all night.
But it was better this way; I didn’t want to fall into temptation. Not after imagining him inside Arianna or all the places she could have touched him.
And I could use my time alone to think.
My gaze dropped to the phone in my hands, my eyes glued to the photo on the screen.
I’d been staring at it for what felt like hours, making sure I didn’t miss a single detail.
It was Malia, she was wearing the same outfit I used to wear at the club and she was posing with a newspaper to prove the date it had been taken.
It felt like something straight out of a movie.
But Bruce had followed through. He’d sent me the picture a couple of hours after I’d sent him the information about Zane’s next shipment.
Since then, I hadn’t been able to stop staring at it whenever I could.
She looked pallid and sick, but at least the bruises on her face and arms were practically gone, which meant no one was abusing her. Relief washed over me knowing they had left her alone for now.
But the picture was also a grim reminder of what was coming later tonight.
I couldn’t warn Zane about it, the best I could do was try my best to keep him at home, hoping that somehow, I could protect him too.
I finally tore myself away from the photo and made my way downstairs.
It was probably close to lunchtime and as I reached the bottom step, crazy movement in the entryway caught my eye.
Clarisse stood there, giving directions to a group of men in green jumpsuits.
At least ten men were moving in and out, carrying enormous vases filled with flowers through the front door and out to the garden, using the kitchen backdoor.
It looked like preparation for a wedding.
Clarisse followed one of the men outside, and I trailed behind her, my eyes widening as I took in the scene.
There were flowers everywhere.
“Is Zane throwing a party?” I asked, loving all the commotion around us.
“No. He suddenly decided to decorate the garden. Can you believe it?”
She was as excited as I was. But she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know who this was for.
Daisies, camellias, roses, and my favorite—lily blossoms. All white. All for me.
Maybe this was his way of apologizing. Whatever it was, he was making an effort to make me feel comfortable. To make this house feel a little mine too, regardless of our circumstances.
A smile crept onto my lips, my heart tightening. I’d never been given a flower before. Much less an entire garden.
It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for me.
…and I didn’t deserve a single petal.
The sound of silverware clinking told me Zane was already eating when I walked into the dining room. Although he didn’t seem to expect me to join him, my plate was set, and it made me wonder if he’d placed it every night, hoping I’d show up.
Avoiding his eyes, I pulled out a chair and sat beside him. At a table meant to seat twenty, he always sat in the same chair, at the head. A king in his own world.
Without a word, Zane flicked his wrist, dismissing the two men guarding the room.
He grabbed the glass and took his time sipping the wine, waiting until the heavy door clicked shut behind them.
“Is the garden looking less empty?”
He was actually asking me if I liked the flowers.
“It looks better now.”
I was actually telling him I loved them.
Silence stretched between us before he finally spoke again. “Any idea on how long you want to stay mad at me?”
I glanced at him, heat rising in my chest.
“I don’t know. Any idea how many times you are planning to fuck Arianna behind my back?”
His face tightened. “That’s not what was happening.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe that?”
“Yes.” His answer came without hesitation.
“I don’t lie. Especially not about that.
If I wanted to fuck her, I would. I’d sit you in a fucking chair and make you watch if that’s what I wanted.
But that’s not what I wanted.” His voice softened slightly.
“If I give you my word, it’s because I mean it. You should know this by now.”
I scoffed. “You might not be a liar, but you’re a trickster and a manipulator. I won’t forget how you made me believe you’d throw me off a balcony if I didn’t suck your cock.”
“Oh, please,” he sneered. “You wanted me to fuck you the entire night. I can always smell it on you, Chloe.”
I leaned in, letting our breaths mingle, watching the way his pupils dilated in anger. “Are you?”
His gaze sharpened, scanning mine, trying to decipher what I meant.
“Are you smelling it now?” I clarified.
One moment, we were talking, and the next, his hands were on me.
The plates, the food, the wine; everything was shoved aside and crashed on the floor as he lifted me onto the table. My legs wrapped around his waist, and his lips found mine in a kiss that felt like fire combusting into something much wilder.
I felt the hard press of his erection against my core.
A gasp slipped free as he rolled his hips, his size rubbing right where I needed him.
I wanted to be consumed by him, used by him, fucked by him.
I wanted him in a way that felt both crazy and dangerous and despite the walls that kept closing in on us.
His rough hand trailed up my thigh, pulling my dress up with it. When his fingers found the elastic of my thong, he didn’t hesitate and pushed it aside. His lips left mine so he could look down to his fingers, slipping in and rounding my clit.
My body responded to him as if I was under a spell. As if he had me wired, every nerve coming alive after he’d flipped all the right switches at once.
“Fuck, I knew you’d be wet,” he growled, and my legs instinctively widened, giving him all the access he wanted.
“You can use all the words in the world to try to convince me,” he continued, dragging his fingers around my arousal, teasing. “But your body doesn’t hate me the way your mouth says it does.”
He was right, it was hard to keep finding excuses to hate him when suddenly, he wasn’t the bad guy anymore.
Then somehow, his fingers were gone, replaced by the thick, heated length of his cock.
He stroked himself against me, the head dragging over my sensitive clit before he thrust inside with one deep, punishing stroke.
I gasped, wincing as my body stretched to take him.
My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a desperate kiss. It didn’t hurt as much as the first times, but I still needed a second to adjust.
His tongue danced with mine as he slammed into me with a possessiveness that made each stroke more intense than the last.
My nails dug into his shoulders, anchoring me as I fought against the vibration that was starting to run up my spine. I wanted to hold back, to not give him that satisfaction, to punish him back and make him fight for my orgasm. But the way he filled me was overpowering.
A loud moan slipped past my lips, my head tilting back in surrender.
“I need to come,” I gasped.
“I know you do, but do you deserve it?”
He thrusts into me long and hard, so deep it sent me to the stars. And he didn’t falter, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
“Tell me,” he murmured, lips brushing hot against my ear. “Tell me how you want to come all over my cock, amore.”
“Please,” I breathed, my body trembling.
“Don’t.”
He forced me to hold back, and my body obeyed him, although I was starting to feel so full of everything that it was turning painful.
His eyes locked with mine, never wavering as he kept thrusting into me, stealing every shred of my sanity. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I struggled to contain myself.
Then he let out a deep and primal growl at the same time as I gasped into his mouth, feeling his entire body tensing. I felt him throbbing inside me, the heat of his release pushing me even closer to the brink. Clinging to him, I let my lips brush against his, desperate for more.
“I want to see you,” he murmured, his fingers tracing my jaw, tilting my face to meet his gaze. “Taste every inch of you.” His thumb caressed my cheek. “Only then are you allowed to come.”
I reached down, ready to pull my dress off, but he stopped me with a firm hand.
“Not here.”
His eyes drifted to the windows for a nanosecond.
Before I could follow, he scooped me up, my legs locking around his waist as he carried me upstairs.
In my bedroom, he set me down, his hands wasting no time peeling my dress over my head. He backed me toward the bed until my knees hit the mattress. I sat as he knelt before me, sliding my thong down my legs and spreading me wide.
The first stroke of his tongue was soft, teasing, before he sucked my clit fully into his mouth.
I’d never felt a man’s tongue between my legs before Zane, and it was the best sensation in the world. It felt tender, soft and I couldn’t get enough of it.
A choked moan escaped me as my fingers tangled in his hair, thighs trembling as his tongue flicked over me, not missing a single nerve.
I cried out, my head falling back as his tongue swirled again.
He groaned against me, “Stop being fucking mad at me. I need more of this taste, every-fucking-day.”
“Zane—”
His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me against his mouth, giving me more of his tongue but never changing the pace, just as I liked it. Everything inside me exploded, and I didn’t hold anything back. I gasped, clutching the sheets as he licked me clean, savoring every drop.
My breath caught for an insane second. I’d never felt anything like this before.
He stood, kicking off his jeans, peeling everything else that could stand between his skin and mine. But instead of climbing on top to take me hard and deep, he lifted me up, turned us around, and sat down with me on top, straddling him.
He didn’t have to say it; I knew he wanted to watch me ride him.
Gripping his shoulders for balance, I spread my knees, lowering myself onto his throbbing cock.
Holding his gaze, I sank down slowly, not wanting to miss the moment it started to feel good for him.
And the second his tip entered, he groaned, his eyes darkening with primal lust and need.
I kept sliding down, feeling his length stretching me well to fit around him.
“Do you like the way my cock fills you?”
“I do,” I gasped, unable to form more words to express how incredible this man felt inside me.
“You do what?” he pressed, reaching impossible depths.
“I love everything about it.”
I cried out, sinking all the way down, my nails marking his shoulders as he pulsed deeply within me.
When the wave of pleasure dissipated, I opened my eyes to meet his.
“Do you?” I asked, starting to ride him in slow motions, letting my body move in sensual waves so he could feel every inch of me too.
His lips found my mouth. “I love everything about you, amore.”
Amore.
Sometimes he called me that. It sounded tender, similar to the word amor in Portuguese which meant love, but I didn’t know the true intention of the way he used it.
My back arched, hips rolling around him as I used every trick I’d learned from those exotic pole-classes Bruce had forced me into.
I’d never wanted to use my body to please a man more than I did with Zane.
No one had ever made me feel that confident before.
His strong hands gripped my waist tightly, steadying me as I set the rhythm.
He wanted me in control, and it gave me a sense of power I had never experienced before. I lifted myself until just the head remained inside, teasing him slightly before plunging down again.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he growled, and I increased the pace.
Zane roared, pulling me into him tightly, his hips thrusting up, burying every inch of himself as he released deep inside me again.
When I felt his hot cum inside, it was like being drowned in pleasure. Making this man come, only with my body was like being seen for the first time.
Ripples of pleasure burned into me at the same time as my nails left marks on his shoulders.
I kissed him fiercely, rolling my hips in slow motions to keep him throbbing inside me. I wanted him to know I could give him more, that I could be enough to keep him satisfied. I wanted to be the only one to whom he would look for that type of pleasure.
He smirked, his hands gripping my hips as he rolled us over, his body pressing me into the mattress, taking back the control and far from being done.