21. Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
~LILLY~
The music is almost swallowed by the roar of the engine.
For forty-five minutes, I’ve poked, prodded, and begged him for answers. I don’t care that Dom saw us. I don’t care that my father will wonder where I’ve run off to. The one thing on my mind right now is that this man has made me care about him and wonder where I fit into his world.
But all he’s done during the car ride to wherever it is he’s taking me is evade my questions.
His beast of a car slows, the tires crunching over the heavy gravel of a long private driveway. Tall palm trees flank us until they suddenly open up and—
“Oh,” escapes my lips as his house comes into view.
I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a sterile, modern penthouse, but not this.
It’s a massive, multi-level waterfront home, all dark, charcoal-colored stone, matte black steel, and walls of glass facing the water. Tall palms frame the property, and the soft glow of the exterior sconces reflects off the vast blackness beyond the house.
It is magnificent.
It is isolated.
It is so utterly, undeniably Zed.
The engine dies, plunging us into a heavy quiet. While I gawk at the exterior of his home, Zed is already out of the car. He stalks around the hood and pulls my door open.
He offers me his large hand, and I take it.
I step out onto the gravel, my heels sinking slightly as the warm salt breeze whips my dress around my legs.
Zed doesn’t wait for me. He turns and strides toward the massive, floor-to-ceiling pivoting front door of the house. I have to hurry to keep up with his long strides.
He presses his thumb against a biometric scanner, and the heavy door clicks open.
He steps inside, throwing the door wide enough for me to follow. The interior takes my breath away all over again.
It’s a warmer take on luxury that screams astronomical wealth. My father is one of the league’s living legends. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve been around money my entire life, but this?
This is different.
This isn’t NHL-contract money.
This is family money.
Zed throws his car keys onto a black marble console table, the sharp metal clinking loudly in the vast, open space.
“This is…wow.”
I don’t even get a chance to fully process the sheer scale of the space before Zed is moving again. He strides over to the wet bar, the dark mahogany reflecting the soft lights around us.
Without asking, without a single word, he pours whisky into a heavy crystal tumbler and shoves it into my hand. The cool weight of the glass settles against my palm.
Before I can even open my mouth, he wraps his long fingers around the neck of the bottle, turns on his heel, and walks through the massive floor-to-ceiling glass sliders leading to the waterfront patio.
I take a breath and follow him out.
I’ve never seen him this avoidant.
Outside, the sound of water rolling against the seawall fills the dark expanse. An infinity pool stretches across the patio, its edge disappearing into the black water beyond.
Zed doesn’t look at the view.
He drops heavily onto the low-profile outdoor sectional, his long legs spread out, his head tilting back against the cushions as he raises the bottle to his lips.
He swallows, his tattooed throat moving rhythmically.
“Zed, stop,” I say, stepping closer and setting my untouched glass down on the table. The crystal makes a quiet click against the surface. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
He lowers the bottle and lets out a dry, breathy chuckle. “Enjoy your drink and look at the view, not me.”
“I don’t care about the drink or the view,” I snap, stepping right into the space between his boots. “Talk to me, please. The last time I saw you like this was after the…situation with Sam in the water.”
His intimidating gaze fixes on me with a sudden intensity that stops my next breath halfway into my lungs.
“Persistent little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs.
“So are you,” I counter.
“You keep poking.” He places the whiskey bottle down beside my untouched glass. “You keep asking to see what’s inside. But can you handle what crawls out of me if you crack me open?”
“I can,” I challenge. “Show me. Let me inside.”
I feel it the exact moment the shift happens.
Something changes behind his eyes. The tension in his face eases, but it doesn’t disappear. His gaze drops to my mouth, lingers there, and my stomach tightens before I understand what he’s doing.
A slow smile curls at the edge of his lips as he leans forward, his huge frame filling the space between us until I can smell his cologne beneath the salt hanging in the air.
“You want to know what’s inside me?” he whispers, his gaze moving from my eyes to my mouth and then down the low-cut neckline of my dress.
He reaches out, a single rough finger tracing the edge of the silk over my waist, and my stomach jumps beneath his touch.
“Funny. All I can think about right now is being inside you.”
My breath hitches. The change is so fast that it takes me a second to catch up. One moment I’m trying to drag something real out of him, and the next, he’s making this intimate.
“Zed—”
“Tell me,” he interrupts, rising to his full height.
I have to tip my head farther back when he stands, his body blocking out the blue glow of the pool behind him. His hand slides up to cup the back of my neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin under my jaw.
“Are your panties still wet from me?”
My mind frantically tries to cling to the questions I have for him, but my body betrays me first. Heat rushes between my thighs, and my fingers curl instinctively into the front of his shirt before I flatten my palms against his chest.
“Zed, you’re deflecting,” I breathe. “Tell me what’s happening with you.”
“I didn’t bring you to my house for a therapy session, Lilly,” he says, his voice vibrating under my palms.
He doesn’t give me a chance to argue.
His large hand slides down my throat, over my collarbone, then lower. He grabs the hem of my gown and pulls it up my thighs.
His fingers slip between my legs and press against my lace panties, searching for the wetness he already knows is there. A dark, satisfied sound leaves him when he finds it.
I gasp, my hips moving against his touch before I can stop myself.
He gives me one last firm stroke through the lace before both hands move to my hips, backing me toward the outdoor sofa. The backs of my legs hit the cushions, and he pushes me down onto them.
“Zed…you need to…let me talk to you…” I try one last time, the words coming out breathier than I intended.
“And you need to loosen up, snowflake,” he rasps. “Let me help you.”
I feel his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties before I hear the lace tear. The sharp rip makes my body jerk. He drags the torn fabric down my legs, leaving me completely exposed to the breeze and his gaze.
God, I want him.
I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life, more than I thought possible. But I also want more than his body. I want to get inside the things he keeps caged.
But his distraction tactics are becoming impossible for me to dodge, especially when my body seems perfectly happy to help him.
He grabs my knees and pulls my legs wide across the leather cushions of the outdoor sofa, my dress bunching around my waist as the backs of my thighs slide over the cool leather.
He leans down, his scent enveloping me, and his fingers slide between my thighs. Slowly, he uses two of them to spread me open.
“Look at that beautiful fucking mess.”
My eyes widen as he takes hold of my chin and angles my face down between my thighs.
It’s such an intense feeling, having a man like him give me his full attention. But the truth is, I’ve never felt more desired.
He did what no one else has managed to do.
He made me feel sexy.
The way he looked at my scar. The way he’s looking at me now.
I know with absolute certainty that he would never let anyone hurt me, which is exactly why I’m not scared of this version of him.
“That’s my good girl,” he rasps. “So fucking beautiful.”
My fingers tighten against the leather cushion at his praise.
He keeps his grip on my chin, leaving me no choice but to watch his fingers slide through me, spreading the wetness before he pulls his hand away.
“Still want to talk about my feelings, or do you want me to make that little pussy come on my dick?” he asks. His hand lifts to his belt, his fingers settling over the buckle.
My lips part as I stare at him, knowing what my answer should be.
“Please,” I whimper, pulling at his shirt to show him how much I need him.
He’s already unbuckling his belt, the metal giving a quiet clink as he pulls, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he frees his cock.
Just like the rest of him, he’s massive—hard and heavy—as he guides himself between my thighs, pressing the head of his cock against my outer lips and dragging it upward. My hips follow the movement without thought.
“Look at it, Lilly,” he murmurs. “Look at what you do to me.”
I let out a broken whimper, my hips rolling up to chase the friction, begging for relief from the ache building in my stomach.
He tilts his hips, his eyes tracking the exact point of contact.
“Now watch me push it in.”
“Oh God!” I gasp, my hands shooting out to his chest.
He moves with torturous slowness, letting me feel every inch as he presses himself inside me.
His hand tightens in my hair to keep me from looking away. “Watch me bury myself into your pink little cunt.”
The words are so filthy they hit me low in my belly, my muscles tightening around him.
I can’t look away.
The sight of our bodies joined together sends another pulse of heat through me.
Every dirty sentence makes me clench harder around him.
His eyes flick up to my face, the corner of his mouth moving.
He knows.
Zed lets out a grunt, his chest rising sharply as he draws his hips back, pulling nearly all the way out until only the head of his cock is inside me. The emptiness lasts a second before he thrusts right back in.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his jaw tightening under the dim patio lights. “You’re so fucking close to coming on my cock, aren’t you?”
I cry out when he hits the exact spot inside me that makes my entire body jerk.
“How bad do you want to come, Lilly?” he grits, his hand wrapping around my throat as he buries himself as deeply as he can go. I can feel every inch of him inside me, the pressure of his body holding mine against the couch.
He leans down, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips.
“Are you going to ask more questions tonight?” Zed whispers.
There it is.
Even like this, I know exactly what he’s doing. I should be furious that I was right, but instead, I shake my head, my mind completely devoid of anything but the need to feel more.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he says, tightening his hold.
My arms slide up his shoulders, clinging to him.
In one seamless motion, he lifts me from the edge of the couch. His cock slips out as I wrap my legs around his waist, my dress bunched around my hips. The sudden loss makes me suck in a breath.
He turns and sinks back onto the outdoor sectional with me securely on his lap, the cushions dipping beneath his weight.
He doesn’t wait.
His hands close around my hips, guiding me back down onto him as he thrusts deep inside me. A loud gasp rips from my throat, the agonizingly slow stretch making my muscles squeeze around him while my knees sink deeper into the cushions on either side of his hips.
“Move,” he whispers, his hands tightening on my waist, his eyes tracking every emotion crossing my face. “Fuck me, Lilly.”
Before I can even process the command, his hands leave my waist, palms gliding down my sides until they settle on the tops of my thighs. His thumbs brush slowly over my hips.
“I’m all yours,” he says in a low, gravelly tone.
For a second, I just stare at him. This man has spent the entire night taking control.
My lower lip disappears between my teeth as I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you?” I challenge, breathless.
Zed’s tongue glides over his bottom lip, a smile pulling at his mouth.
“Will you have me?” he challenges back.
Instead of answering, I roll my hips forward and lift myself until he’s almost out, then slide right back down on his cock.
“Fuck.”
Zed’s head drops back against the couch, exposing the long line of his throat.
I did that.
The realization sends a rush of heat through me. I rise again, my nails digging into his chest. His stomach tightens under my palms as I sink back down.
His lips part as he draws in a breath, his broad chest rising and falling under my hands.
I rise one last time, then stop completely when he’s almost fully out.
I expect him to grab my hips and pull me back down, but he doesn’t. His fingers flex once against my hips.
His gaze drops between us, settling on where the tip of his cock is still inside me.
“Look at me, Zed,” I whisper, testing the waters.
His eyes lift to mine, and the immediate response catches me somewhere deep in my stomach.
“Do you want me to move again?” I ask, pushing a little further, curious to see how much he’s will