Chapter 55 #2
The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s full of every ounce of tension that’s ever flowed between us—anger, lust, frustration, defiance. Every inch of it saturates the room until I can hardly breathe.
I shift onto my back, letting my lungs expand, breathing deeply as I try to regain control over the storm inside me.
Every inch of me is buzzing, aware of how close he is.
I’m so lost to reality that I swear I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.
My fingers clutch at the duvet beneath me, anchoring me as I will my absurd, racing thoughts to leave.
But then his fingers brush against the back of my hand. My heart stutters, my chest tightens, and all my walls crumble.
I roll towards him and push up on my elbows, looking down at him.
Zac stares up at me, eyes dark. His jaw is tight, painfully so, as if holding back the part of him that wants to shatter. And in that look, I see everything. The longing and the goddamn restraint.
I swallow hard, lifting an arm and resting it on the other side of his body. It sinks into the mattress, and his warm skin brushes the inside of my forearm. He doesn’t move, but his jaw twitches.
“How healed are you?” I ask lowly.
“Emilia…”
I slide my hand up, fingertips grazing the edge of his body.
Goosebumps pebble along my path and his breath catches.
Softly, I trail my fingers up towards his abs, gently caressing the fading bruises and tracing the patterns of ink that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since he whipped his top off.
I can hardly see them in the moonlight, but I want to.
I want to study each one, to commit them to memory, even if now isn’t the time.
Now is a distraction.
My fingers flatten over his ribs, but they’re still light against his skin as I shift them down, down…
down. He’s wearing joggers, and as my fingers brush the waistband, he sucks in a breath.
I don’t stop until I reach the bulge that’s visible against the moonlight.
He’s already hard, and I splay my fingers over his impressive length.
“Are you healed enough for this?”
“Emilia—”
“For me to pay you back for the night outside the Armoury?”
His nostrils flare, he swallows hard, and then he nods.
Gently, I squeeze his length before rubbing my palm up the length of his erection, anticipation winding through my chest when it jolts beneath my touch.
“Take me out,” he growls, hand lifting from the mattress and cupping the back of my head.
“So polite. Is that how you speak to other girls?” I murmur, hand still moving back and forth. Anna flashes to the front of my mind.
“I don’t speak to other girls,” he says, tone guttural, fingers clenching around my hair. It’s bullshit, but the words still have my heart pounding with a sudden urgency to prove that it’s the right decision. That I’m more than enough to compensate for any of them—Anna included.
“Just me?”
“Just you,” he grits out.
My stomach flutters as I slip my hands beneath his joggers and tug. He lifts his hips, and the material slides down his legs, abandoned to the floor. He’s not wearing underwear.
I freeze. My core pulses. “You... you’re…”
“Pierced?”
I glance up at his face. “Uh, yeah.”
He smirks. “You telling me that you’re actually surprised? Look at me, Em—”
“Alright,” I cut him off. My gut tenses as his cock lays on his stomach, metal glinting back at me like a challenge. My mouth waters. “I’ve just never seen…”
“Glad I was able to take your breath away, baby— Fuck!”
I grip his length, hard as a rock within my fist and lean forward, unable to help myself as my tongue darts over the soft skin, licking the salty liquid off the tip. He sucks in a deep breath, gripping my hair into a ponytail so tight, it hurts, but in all the right ways.
His spare hand reaches down, clutching the base of his cock, holding it up and tapping it against my lips. Wetness drips down my legs, staining my satin shorts, desperate for him.
“Come on, then,” he murmurs, voice raspy. “Show me what you’ve fucking got.”
And I do. Not because he demanded it, not because Zac Hastings is my husband, and not because I like him—but because I want to.
Mouth wide, I take him deep, tongue swiping over the underside of his shaft.
The cold metal feels foreign, but all the more enticing, salt and iron mixing on my tastebuds like a cocktail of desire.
He throbs and hisses, and my eyes flick up, taking in the gritted teeth, the blown pupils, the pure, unrestrained lust.
I hollow out my cheeks, working up the courage to go deeper. My core clenches, begging for attention, but this isn’t about me. I surge forward, devouring his shaft until it hits the back of my throat and I choke.
“Fucking hell, Emilia.” His hips spasm, and he thrusts up.
My eyes water, but I suck tight, dipping back and forth, meeting his thrusts with my own.
Saliva drips from the corner of my mouth, and I gather as much of it as I can with my tongue, soaking every inch of his dick, sliding faster and faster.
His breath comes unsteady and rushed, and he groans.
I lift my gaze just as his head flies back against the headboard, so loud I know it’s painful, but he doesn’t bat an eyelid.
My hand reaches out, curling around where he’s holding his cock, gently shoving him away before replacing it with my own.
His hand falls to the mattress, and his head lifts, eyes flaring as they meet mine.
They’re wild and fierce, and so out of control, I nearly combust from the sight as he fucks my mouth.
Pulling back, I swirl my tongue around the tip, and a guttural moan leaves his mouth as I lower, the metal of his piercing grazing my lips.
Tonight, I wanted to distract him. And ever since we met, I’ve wanted to make him lose control, to snap through his breaking point.
This is it.
This. Is. It.
I suck him as deep as I can manage, stifling the gag that threatens to erupt around his thickness. Back and forth, my mouth suctions around him, his hand fisting my hair, my hand gripping tight to his shaft.
He tugs sharply on my hair, trying to pull me back, but I wrench from his grasp, tongue swiping over the vein on the underside of his length.
“Fuck,” he growls, face scrunching and head flying back once more as his release explodes into my mouth.
His chest is heaving when I eventually, slowly, pull back.
Eyes on his, I shift back onto my side of the bed before reaching up and wiping the corner of my lips.
He snaps upright, hand grabbing the back of my neck and yanking me towards him.
Our foreheads crash together, his ragged breath ghosting against my lips.
“Fucking vixen,” he rasps, voice low enough that it vibrates through me. “You just wait. There’s no saving you from me anymore.”
My whole body trembles under the weight of his words. “Good,” I murmur. “I didn’t want to be saved.”