19. Chapter 19 #5
Zed goes completely still behind me for one long second, and I can feel the tension in every part of him touching me before his fingers tighten.
“Keep doing that,” he warns. “ and see what happens.”
The warning sends a hot little thrill through me.
I push back anyway.
His other hand closes around my hip, and this time, when he pushes forward, he doesn’t stop.
He buries himself in one long stroke, his grip tightening around my hip as he fills me from behind. The angle is deeper like this, enough that my fingers immediately spread against the tabletop and my breath leaves me in a broken rush.
“Fuck, Zed.”
His hips drive forward with more force, his grip pulling me back to meet him as he sets a harder rhythm that has the table shifting beneath my palms.
The room fills with the sound of us.
My hands slide against the smooth surface as the pace builds, my dress gathered uselessly around my waist while Zed’s fingers dig into my hips hard enough that I know I’ll still feel them tomorrow.
There’s nothing careful about him now. Every time I push back, asking for more, he answers with another punishing stroke, using his hold on me to keep me exactly where he wants me.
“Jesus.”
Zed’s hand slips from my hip and moves down between my thighs.
“Still talking about another man while I’m inside you.”
Despite everything he’s doing to me, I hear the dry edge beneath the words.
Of course he would be jealous of Jesus.
The thought barely has time to form before his fingers find exactly what they’re looking for and every coherent thought in my head disappears.
“Oh, fuck.”
He lowers himself over me, his chest settling against my back. One hand stays between my thighs while the other spreads across my stomach, holding me firmly against him as the steady rhythm of his hips turns harder, every trace of the patience he tortured me with earlier beginning to disappear.
My head falls back against his shoulder as his mouth finds my neck, and I can feel the effort behind every movement—the tension in his stomach against my lower back, the harder pull of his breathing, the increasingly punishing rhythm that tells me exactly how close I am to getting the version of Zed he’s been keeping on a leash all night.
The next hard snap knocks a cry from my mouth, followed immediately by another that sends the table scraping several inches across the floor.
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t start,” he breathes against my neck.
A breathless laugh catches somewhere in my chest and immediately turns into a moan when he finds the same deep spot again.
Right. No other men.
Apparently those are the rules.
My hands close around his forearm, holding on while Zed strips away the last scraps of whatever dignity I walked into this room with.
His breathing catches against my skin as his grip tightens around me.
“All over my cock, Lilly,” he says against my ear.
My eyes close, my knee threatens to give.
The orgasm hits before I can brace for it, my body locking around him, the first contraction pulling a cry from somewhere deep in my chest as my fingers close around his forearm.
Zed holds me through it, his arm solid around my waist while he keeps pumping behind me, drawing out every pulse until my legs are shaking.
His forehead settles against the side of my head, his breathing ragged as my body continues clenching around him, and I feel the exact second his control finally gives.
The careful rhythm he’s maintained disappears.
His hand grips my hip, and the next hard thrust makes my fingers tighten around his arm.
Then another.
His face presses into my neck as his body goes rigid behind me, while a rough curse breaks against my skin, followed by my name.
For several seconds, neither of us moves, and I couldn’t if I wanted to.
His chest rises and falls against my back, as both of us try to remember how breathing is supposed to work.
Eventually, Zed lets out a long breath.
I let my forehead drop toward the table.
Forming actual words feels ambitious at the moment.
His mouth brushes my shoulder, and I feel the faint movement of what might be a smile.
Zed stays exactly where he is for another few seconds, my legs recover enough that I’m reasonably confident they won’t fold the second he lets me go.
When he finally pulls out, his arm tightens immediately as my knees wobble.
“Easy,” he murmurs.
I grab the edge of the table.
“I’ve got you.”
The words are quiet and matter-of-fact, and something about them settles me faster than it should.
I wait while the feeling comes back into my legs, acutely aware of my dress around my waist, my hair probably looking like I’ve been dragged backward through a hedge.
Before a single word can form in my throat, Zed wraps his large hand around my jaw, his thumb pressing firmly into my chin as he turns my face toward his. He leans down and takes my mouth, the kiss deep and possessive, holding me there until I forget whatever I was about to say.
Eventually, the pressure of his mouth eases, his lips lingering against mine for one final second before he pulls back.
Slowly, he reaches down. His thick fingers hook into the narrow silk strap of my panties and slide them carefully back into place, adjusting them until I’m covered again. Then his hands find the bunched-up fabric of my gown and smooth it back down over my hips.
He leans down and presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. When he pulls away, his thumb strokes the side of my jaw.
“What did you learn tonight, Lilly?”
I look at him—the black hair falling over his forehead, the wicked expanse of ink crawling up his neck, the beautiful insanity still written across his features.
“That you are completely out of your mind,” I whisper.
He leans close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin as his hands grip my waist one last time.
“Think about it with my cum inside, then.”