Chapter 13
Zane
Ipull the shirt over Skylar’s head, lean down, and drag my tongue over her nipple, watching her face the entire time because her face has always been my favorite part of this.
The sound that escapes her mouth goes straight to my cock.
Her fingers find me through my jeans a second later, wrapping around the length of me through the denim, stroking slowly, as if she has all the time in the world and knows exactly what she is going to do with it.
“You’re hard,” she says.
“You’re surprised?”
“You’re always hard.”
“Sky.” I look up at her, my mouth still against her nipple. “Stop fucking talking and take what you want from me.”
Something shifts in her eyes. That specific one that means she has made a decision and that I am going to enjoy every second of the consequences.
She flips me onto my back.
She straddles me, pins my wrists above my head, and looks down at me with her hair loose around her shoulders, and the expression of a woman who has just remembered she is entirely capable of being in charge of this situation.
It is the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life. It still destroys me every time.
“There she is,” I say.
“Shut up,” she says, before kissing me.
Her tongue slides in filthy strokes against mine as her hand finds my cock again through the denim and strokes. The combination of her mouth, her hand, and her weight on top of me sends heat flooding through me so fast that my hips roll up into her.
I slide my hand up her thigh.
She gasps against my mouth when my fingers find her pussy, warm and wet and so ready for me that the sound I make is not entirely dignified. I run one soft smooth pass through her folds, and then I stop.
She pulls back, looking down at me.
I grin up at her.
“Zane.”
“Yes?”
“Do not.”
I run my fingers through her wetness again, spreading it, watching her lips part and her eyes go dark. I stop again and rest my hand on her thigh as if I have simply lost interest, which we both know is the furthest fucking thing from the truth.
She glares at me with an expression that could strip paint off.
“You think you’re being clever,” she says. “You’re being an asshole. If you keep teasing me, I will get off this bed and leave.”
“No you won’t.”
“Try me, Rivera.”
I slide two fingers into her pussy without warning and watch her mouth fall open on a sound she was clearly not prepared to make.
Her hands slam down onto my chest for balance, her nails digging in, and I work her slowly until her thighs are shaking on either side of my hips and her glare has dissolved into something considerably more honest.
“You were saying?” I ask.
“I hate you,” she breathes.
“I know.”
I curl my fingers, and she gasps. I stop, and she gives me the death glare because I am teasing her.
“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing?” she says.
She reaches down, wraps her fingers around my wrist, and drags my hand away.
Her eyes stay locked on mine the whole fucking time as my wet fingers slip free from her pussy, and the look on her face damn near ends me.
Furious. Turned on. Dangerous as fuck. The kind that says she wants to slap me, ride me, ruin me, and make me regret every smart-mouthed thing I’ve ever said.
She slides down my body and settles between my legs, looking up at me with an expression that says I’m about to learn what consequences mean in a very personal, very memorable fucking way.
I prop myself up on my elbows.
She reaches for my jeans and slowly lowers the zipper. Slow enough to make every nerve in my body sit up and pay attention.
My eyes drop to the dark, wet patch on the front of my jeans where she was sitting a minute ago. I grin.
“Seems someone’s been enjoying herself.”
Her cheeks go pink.
She holds my gaze anyway, because this girl has never backed down from anything in her life. And she sure as shit isn’t about to start while she’s on her knees between my legs.
“Lift up,” she says, her pissed-off tone leaving no room for negotiation.
And fuck me, that should not affect me the way it does.
There is something about this version of Skylar.
All sharp edges and bruised pride. All fury wrapped in bare skin and stolen fabric. She looks furious enough to ruin me, and I am stupid enough to hand her the weapon.
I lift my hips.
Skylar hooks her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and drags them down. She stands to pull them the rest of the way off my legs, before tossing them onto the floor at the end of the bed, where they land in a useless heap.
My eyes stay on her as hers drop to my cock. It is hard. Heavy. Standing there with no shame, no patience, and no fucking interest in pretending I am not wrecked by her.
She stares at it for a second too long. Long enough for heat to crawl up the back of my neck. Long enough for every dirty thought in my head to sit up and start clapping.
“Take that off,” I tell her.
Her gaze flicks back to mine.
“The shirt,” I say, because if she is going to stand there, staring at my hard cock, then I am sure as shit going to stare at her.
For a second, she looks as if she might argue, but she grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it over her head. Her hair lifts with it, messy and wild, before falling back around her shoulders and brushing over her tits.
Fuck. She is so beautiful it pisses me off a little. Beautiful in a way that breaks every rule and leaves a man standing there with his common sense in a body bag.
She drops the shirt beside my jeans, then looks down at me with that same dangerous expression. The one that says I am in trouble. The one that knows exactly where to put her hands to make it worse.
She deliberately runs her tongue along her bottom lip, leaving it wet and shiny.
A rough sound drags out of me before I can stop it. It’s pure, shameless, aching need. Because right now, all I can think about is her mouth on me, her hands on me, and the fact that this girl has me so fucked up that I would let her punish me and thank her for it.
Unable to stand it any longer, I reach down and wrap my hand around my throbbing cock.
“Come suck my cock,” I tell her.
Skylar looks up at me with a wicked little grin and there it is. That spark in her eyes tells me she wants to tease me just as much as I want to tease her.
But the problem is, I am already too far gone to be noble about it. I give myself a slow stroke, trying to take the edge off the ache building low and mean in my balls. It doesn’t help. If anything, it makes it worse.
She drops to her knees at the end of the bed and leans forward, all soft lips and sharp intentions.
I drag the head of my cock over her mouth, smearing precum across her bottom lip.
“Open,” I tell her.
Her eyes lift to mine. “Why?”
“Why the fuck do you think?”
She laughs softly. She knows exactly what she is doing to me and is enjoying every second of it.
“I don’t know,” she says, all innocent-like. “Why don’t you tell me?”
She lowers her mouth and slowly drags her tongue along the underside of my shaft.
A hiss tears through my teeth. “Fucking hell.”
She smirks because she knows she has me right where she wants me.
Hard.
Aching.
Cock throbbing.
Pride hanging by a thread as she kneels between my legs, looking far too pleased with herself while she watches me suffer through every second of not getting what I want. The worst part is, she looks fucking beautiful while doing it.
“Open,” I tell her again, dragging my cock against her wet lips.
This time she obeys.
Fuck me.
Her mouth closes around the tip, lips sealing tight, warm, wet, and perfect. She sucks with enough pressure to rip a broken sound from my chest.
“Holy fuck,” I groan, my head dropping back as sensation crashes through me.
It’s too much and yet not enough. A punishment disguised as mercy.
She pulls off me with a loud pop.
My eyes snap back to meet hers.
She grins, all smug mouth and trouble. “There you go. Or, if you want more, tell me what you want.”
Cunning little vixen. She’s making me beg for it. Making me pay for every filthy word I threw at her. Every time I pushed. Every time I made her admit what she wanted.
My hand slides into her hair, not rough, but firm enough to hold her close to the place she has been torturing for the past few minutes.
Her breath skates across my cock and my control nearly snaps.
“Suck my fucking cock, Sky,” I say, voice low. “Make me fucking come.”
Her eyes darken.
I tighten my fingers in her hair.
“You want me to beg? Fine. This is me begging. On my fucking knees without moving an inch, begging for your mouth. Begging for you to take me deep, suck me hard, and milk every last fucking drop my cock gives you.”
Her lips part.
My pulse pounds.
“Now open that pretty little mouth,” I say, brushing the head of my cock against her bottom lip, “before I lose what little fucking patience I have left.”
When she opens her mouth, I guide my cock inside slowly. Her lips stretch around me, and every decent thought I have left walks straight out of my head and throws itself into traffic.
A rough moan tears from me as she takes me deeper. My hand tightens in her hair, just to hold on to something before she ruins me completely.
I have dreamed about this.
About losing my mind while she looks up at me with those wicked eyes and that stubborn little mouth wrapped around my cock.
Fuck.
I close my eyes for one second and it nearly ends me.
Her tongue slides along the underside of my cock and the pressure of her mouth is a filthy kind of perfect. Tight enough to make my thighs tense. Warm enough to make my spine lock. Wet enough to make my brain go blank.
“Shit,” I breathe, the word breaking apart in my throat.
She sucks harder and my hips jerk forward before I can stop them. I hit the back of her throat.
She gags softly around me, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, her fingers dig into my thighs, drawing me deeper.
The sound that comes out of me is not pretty. It’s desperate. The sound a man makes when he has been starving and someone finally places the one thing he needs on his tongue.