Chapter 33 #4
The warmth of him hovers just above me, enough that heat begins seeping through my clothes, fire seeking out the fuel within me and stoking the flames. My heart begins to pound, my lips part, and his gaze instantly drops to them.
“Not the lips,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens, but he lowers his head, breath grazing my jaw. His clutch on my hair tightens, almost painful, and then his lips are trailing the length of my jawline, greedy and aggressive. A sharp exhale escapes me, and he tugs on my hair until I’m looking at the starry sky.
His mouth trails down, over my neck, tongue igniting every nerve in my body.
The world stills. The street, the night, the air—all of it disappears into this burning moment. Fire and need, and the sharp, aching presence of him.
His voice comes low, rough against my skin. “I hate,” he murmurs, “what you do to me. I hate how you make me feel. How fucking out of control I am.” His words aren’t filled with anger anymore, but something far wilder.
“Liar.”
He lets go of my hair. My head falls back, eyes meeting his. For a heartbeat, neither of us breathes.
“You hate me,” I counter, the words like fuel between us. “You don’t hate the way this makes you feel. What I do to you.”
He doesn’t move, but the look in his eyes says everything. The fury, the want, the ache of it all. It’s war and surrender, both happening in the same breath.
To make my point, I roll my hips towards him, pressing against the hard length I knew would be there.
And the fuel ignites.
His hand lifts from my hips, slamming against the base of my throat, and shoving me back, back, back, until my spine hits a brick wall.
The breath rushes from my lungs, and his touch grazes along my stomach, tracing the skin before roughly unbuttoning my jeans and dipping his hand beneath the waistband.
They toy with the lace of my underwear, sweeping below before I can register what’s happening, sinking down, down, down, until the pad of his finger grazes my clit.
I let out a moan, and my grip on his jacket tightens, every nerve in my body jolting with electricity.
“You don’t even care, do you?” he says, breath fanning my lips. “That I’m angry with you?”
“No.”
His finger sinks inside me, and a foreign whimper leaves my lips as I collapse against the wall. His hand, still at my throat, tightens an inch.
“You should,” he says, low and feral. He inches another finger inside, thrusting hard and fast. My knees buckle, knuckles white around his jacket.
“Zac—”
His fingers curl, hitting the spot that has my insides burning, chasing the high. My eyes flutter closed.
“You’re such a fucking liability,” he says. “A brat. A nightmare.” His fingers twist, and my hip bucks up into him. “But you know what?” he murmurs, lips ghosting along my jawline once more.
“Zac—”
He pulls back, and his fingers stall. Slowly, my eyes flutter open. I pulse around him, practically begging him to continue, to finish what he’s started.
His eyes are pure amber, gazing into mine with reverence.
“I don’t care,” he says.
His fingers plunge deeper, and every inch of me tenses, the rush of sensations too much to comprehend.
My head falls back against the wall, lips parted.
His hands are the only thing holding me up, and the one at my neck inches up ever so slightly, coiling tighter, pinning me in place.
The other fucks me hard and ruthless, filled with every ounce of disdain, of anger, of frustration he has for me.
My breath shudders as I climb higher, and higher. His lips press against my throat, just above his splayed hand. His tongue darts out, pressing against my pulse, and my body jolts, arching into him once more. Slowly, languidly, he drags his tongue up the length of my throat.
A strangled groan forces its way through my lips, and just as he reaches my jaw, he flicks his thumb over my clit. My hips slam back against the wall, trying to flee.
It’s too much.
He’s relentless, softly brushing back and forth, urging me closer, and closer towards the peak. My vision blurs, my legs turning to jelly as my hips rock back and forth, and like a dam, the wall breaks.
My orgasm rolls through me, shattering everything in its path and spreading to every inch of my body, flooding my senses and drowning me in sin.
My walls throb around his fingers, and my head lolls forward, onto his shoulder, heart racing and breath laboured. His hands slip from my jeans and fall from my neck. Looking up, my gaze meets his, the fire in them still alight, and burning with a desire that I know I’m not imagining.
Slowly, I let go of his jacket and he steps back, tearing his eyes from mine, glancing back at the factory behind.
I straighten, pushing off the wall and readjusting my jeans.
My heels click against the ground as I stride forward, legs still shaky, looking towards the Married Sector and running a hand through my hair.
He turns back to me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
So soft that I almost miss it, he murmurs, “I could never hate you.”