19. Chapter 19 #4
“No.” The word comes out on a breath as my hips push toward him, trying to get back the friction he just took from me.
His hand closes around my hip and holds me still.
That’s when I see it.
The control.
His chest is rising hard beneath his ruined shirt, and a muscle jumps along his jaw, his cock still rigid inside me while my body squeezes around him. Holding still is costing him—I can see that now—but his hand doesn’t loosen and his hips don’t move an inch.
He lowers his mouth to my ear, his breath hot and heavy.
“You know whose cock is inside you, snowflake,” he murmurs, his voice low and filthy. “Say my fucking name.”
A frustrated sound catches in my throat as I try to move again, but his grip on my hip stops me before I can get enough friction to matter.
“Zed.”
He doesn’t move. His thumb presses harder against my clit, giving me pressure without the movement I desperately need.
“Again.”
“Zed.”
“That’s it.” His lips catch my earlobe as his hips flex just enough to make me feel every thick inch of his cock still buried inside me. “Now tell me who makes this pussy feel this fucking good.”
My fingers tighten at the back of his neck.
“You.”
His mouth brushes my jaw.
“Then beg for my cock, Lilly.”
The bastard.
His thumb moves once over my clit, and my entire body jerks.
“Please.”
The word is out before I can stop it.
His face lifts from my neck and his eyes find mine, something changing in his expression as the word hangs between us.
Please.
The promise he made comes rushing back.
He said he’d make me beg for him.
And here I am, stretched tight around his cock, every nerve screaming for release, giving him exactly what he wanted and begging him to let me come.
“Please what, snowflake?” he asks quietly.
My fingers tighten at the back of his neck.
“You know what.”
“I know exactly what.” His eyes stay on mine. “I want to hear you fucking say it.”
My stomach clenches around him.
“Please fuck me, Zed. Please... please make me come.”
His jaw tightens.
There it is.
His mouth comes down on mine, kissing me hard as his thumb finally starts working me again.
And then his hips move.
Zed draws almost all the way out before slamming his hips forward, filling me in one hard stroke that rips a cry from my throat.
His thumb moves faster on my clit, rubbing away every second of torture he just put me through, and I lock my leg around his waist, hauling him closer as he pounds into me again.
The table shifts beneath me when his hips meet mine, and whatever control he was using to torture me thirty seconds ago is still there, but now I can feel how much it’s costing him to hold on to it.
The muscles in his arms flex beneath my hands as he braces himself over me, every hard contraction of my body pulling another visible strain through him.
“That’s what you wanted?” he asks, the words rough against my mouth.
“Yes.”
His hips snap into mine again. “Then take my fucking cock.”
I wrap both legs around his hips and do exactly that, meeting each hard pump instead of waiting for him to give it to me. The change takes him deeper and draws a rough curse from his mouth, and the sound sends a completely different kind of satisfaction through me.
I want more of that, more proof that underneath all that maddening control, I’m getting to him too.
My fingers slide into his hair and pull.
Zed’s head lifts, his eyes burning into mine.
“Harder,” he says, the word edged with unmistakable approval.
I tighten my fist and do it again.
His hand leaves my clit and closes around the back of my neck as his mouth comes down on mine, hot and hungry, his tongue parting my lips as he kisses me with more need than control now.
I bite his bottom lip and feel the reaction run through him, his arms flexing as a rough sound catches deep in his throat.
“Again.”
I bite him harder, and the next hard thrust knocks the breath from my lungs.
Whatever I was thinking about before this is gone now.
There isn’t enough room left in my head for Liam, the gala, my scar, or the hundred different ways I’ve spent the last three years picking apart my own body.
There is only Zed filling me, his hand holding the back of my neck, and the increasingly obvious fact that every time I touch him exactly the way he likes, another piece of that control slips.
His mouth leaves mine and moves down my throat, teeth scraping over my skin as his hand slides under my dress and closes around my ass. He grips me firmly, pulling me closer with every thrust until there isn’t an inch of space between us.
“Look at you,” he mutters against my neck.
Something about the way he says it makes my stomach tighten.
His hand moves over my bare skin, passing directly across the scar Liam had made sound like something so hideous a man would need darkness to touch me.
Zed doesn’t hesitate or slow down. His palm slides over it on the way to my hip before returning to my ass, fingers spreading as he squeezes hard enough to pull another sound from me.
“You walk into a room and I forget what the fuck I was doing before you got there.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Then all I can think about is this gorgeous ass and how the fuck I’m going to get between your legs.”
My breath catches, but Zed doesn’t stop long enough to let the words settle.
His hand slides down the outside of my thigh and pulls my leg higher.
“And now I’ve got you spread open on a table with my cock buried inside you.” He pulls out, making me feel every inch before sliding back into me. “You really think I’m wasting a second thinking about a fucking scar?”
The question lands differently this time, a small warmth spreading through my chest because maybe, for once, I can let myself believe him.
Then his thumb finds my clit again.
“Oh, fuck.”
The pressure begins building almost immediately, my body already too sensitive from how close he’d brought me before. Zed knows it too. He keeps the pace deep and steady, watching my face while his thumb works over me until my legs tighten around him again.
“Zed...”
He doesn’t stop this time.
The realization makes my pulse jump.
His hips pound into mine, the table knocking against the wall behind me as the pressure winds tighter. I grip his shoulders, trying to pull him closer even though there is nowhere closer for him to get, and Zed catches my bottom lip between his teeth before letting it slide free.
“Come on my cock,” he says against my mouth.
The filthy command sends another wave of heat through me.
“Let me fucking feel it.”
My body tightens around him, the first wave hitting hard enough to make my back arch away from the table. Zed’s hand immediately leaves my clit and wraps around my waist, holding me against him while he keeps pumping through it, giving me every hard stroke instead of slowing down.
“Oh—”
“That’s it,” he says. “Squeeze my fucking cock.”
My fingers fist tighter as the orgasm rolls through me, my thighs locking around his hips while he keeps me pressed against him. Every stroke draws it out a little longer until I’m breathing into his neck and trying to recover while Zed is still hard inside me.
His hands close around my waist, and he pulls out, the sudden emptiness making me protest.
“Zed—”
“Turn around.”
There’s something in his voice that sends another pulse of heat through me despite the fact that my legs are still trying to remember how to work.
I slide off the table, my heels landing unevenly on the floor as Zed keeps one hand around my waist to steady me. Before I can straighten completely, he turns me toward the table and steps in behind me, the front of his body fitting against my back while his mouth finds the side of my neck.
His cock presses hot and hard against my ass.
“Hands on the table,” he orders against my ear.
My palms meet the smooth surface as he bends me over the table until my stomach is flat against it, my dress still gathered around my waist. He doesn’t rush to get back inside me.
He stands there behind me, while his hand travels over my body, taking his time despite the erection pressed insistently against me.
Then both hands close around my ass.
“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself.
His palms move over me, squeezing before his fingers spread me wider, and my face heats at how exposed I am to him from this angle. I can feel his gaze moving over me almost as clearly as I can feel his hands.
“You’re fucking soaked.”
My fingers curl against the table.
“Zed.”
My breath catches as his fingers move through the wetness between my legs.
He doesn’t push inside. Instead, he slides himself slowly through the slickness between my thighs, rubbing over me once before returning to my entrance. My hips push back instinctively, trying to take him, but his hand closes around my hip and stops me.
“Easy.”
I bite the inside of my cheek because there are at least twelve things I’d like to say to that, and none of them are going to make him move faster.
Zed drags the head of his cock over me again.
My fingers tighten against the table.
“Please.”
His grip on my hip gets firmer.
I close my eyes.
He keeps himself right where I want him without giving me an inch.
“You sound pretty when you beg with my cock against your pussy.”
Heat floods straight through me.
“Zed, please.”
He pushes forward just enough for the head of his cock to slip inside me, and my body immediately tries to take more.
He stops me again.
“Greedy little thing.”
I push back against his hold anyway, managing another inch before his fingers dig into my hip.
A rough breath leaves him.
That tiny crack in his control is all the encouragement I need.
I do it again.
This time, Zed’s hand slides from my hip to the back of my neck, forcing me down flat against the table as he lowers his mouth beside my ear.
“You keep fucking yourself back on my cock like that, snowflake, and I’m going to forget I was trying to be nice to you.”
My stomach tightens. There is absolutely nothing funny about the way he says it, but I push back again anyway.