Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
ZANE
W hen the FBI crime scene techs arrive, I go up to my room to pack my own bag. While we waited, we could all hear Spencer upstairs loudly yammering on to herself about “stupid entitled men.”
I can only hope she wasn’t referencing us.
Entering the room, I find her clothes strewn about and hanging off various décor like my bedside lamp and the 1999 signed and framed Knicks poster on the wall. Almost every piece of clothing we have for her here are off the hangers. Spencer stands with her back to me, just inside the closet door.
“Everything okay in here?”
She turns to me, finally showing me the item in her hands. She looks down at it as if I’m supposed to exclaim, “Oh no! How did that get there?” I give her a deadpan look instead.
“Well?!” she yells.
“Well, what?” I reply.
“What the hell is this?”
I scrunch my brows together. “It’s your sculpture.”
She rolls her eyes and stomps her foot. “I know that! I mean, what the hell is it doing here?”
“I bought it,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Why!”
“Let me make this clear, Angel.” I prowl towards her as she backs into the wall. “No one else gets that piece of you. No one else gets to see this side. Anyone who already has is lucky I’m letting them live with the memory, because if I thought you’d forgive me, I’d end every last person who’s been in the gallery. Anyone who may have had a glimpse at your soul.”
Spencer’s breathing increases, and her cheeks flush. “Oh.”
I lean down and bring our faces close together. “You’re mine, Spencer Gray. In this life and the next.”
Her rapid breaths cause her round tits to brush against my chest. “Why do you call me ‘Angel’?”
My answer is easy. “You’re the light I’ve never been afforded in life.”
“Dammit. How do you always have the right thing to say?” Spencer moves fast, grabbing my face and bringing her mouth to mine.
I’m stunned for a split second before I react. My arms wrap around her waist, sealing our connection.
Spencer breathes out, “I need you. Now. Right now.” Her hands go right to my pants and undo my belt. Her enthusiasm makes my dick grow hard.
She pulls my pants down to my hips then rips down her own pants. I let her keep the lead for one more moment. When she tries to climb me like a tree, I spin her so she faces the wall.
“You want me to fuck you, Angel? I’ll fuck you like the glorious Angel you are.” My hands wander to her breasts, each a perfect handful, and I give them a squeeze. “I’ll worship these.” One hand skims down her torso and covers her pussy. “And I’ll worship this, every day, for the rest of forever. This pussy, this ass, these tits, they’re mine.”
Her arousal floods my hand, and she whimpers. “Fuck yes.”
I bend at the knees and line my cock up with her weeping core. When I thrust inside, she cries out, but I cut off the sound by wrapping my hand around her mouth.
“Don’t be a bad Angel by letting the people downstairs hear your precious screams. Those are mine too.”
Her moan fills the room, making my cock leak. Her dripping pussy allows my dick to glide in and out of her core so easily. Her hands claw at the wall, grasping for purchase. I begin a rhythm that has us groaning in unison, and she matches me thrust for thrust. Her sweet ass slams backward, making my cock unbearably hard each time it jiggles.
“Fuck, Baby. You look so divine just like this—impaled on my thick cock and whining for more.”
Her pussy chokes my length each time I bury myself inside her.
“You’re going to come with me, Spencer. Come with me and make that cunt suck me dry.”
When her hand snakes between her legs, she rubs her clit. She screams behind my hand as her inner muscles contract around my cock as she comes. Her orgasm pulls me right under the wave of pleasure with her. I pound away, drawing out our high.
When the last drop of cum is wrung out of my dick, I fall forward on my hands so as not to crush Spencer against the wall.
“Holy shit,” she exhales and smiles at me from over her shoulder.
I smirk right back at her. “Yeah, Angel. Holy shit.”