Chapter 23 #2
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, maneuvering us to the left to avoid a group of men and women who eye us curiously.
“Fine.” But I’m not fine. I can feel panic and rage and…mess swelling up inside me like a tornado. Like seeing Anthony for the first time in months has flipped the secret switch to a fuse countdown I didn’t know existed.
“Chloe!” My eyes snap up, zeroing in on Mia Walker, who is standing by a creeping vine trellis with her husband in tow.
Forcing a smile onto my face I don’t feel, I allow Zeke to guide us over. The petite brunette envelops me in a hug, and I cling on for dear life. “Are you okay?” she asks when she pulls back, her hands on my shoulders as she frowns at me.
“Just got held up by Sweeney,” I hear Zeke grumble to Mason next to us.
“Yeah, fine.” I offer her a tight smile and finish the last of my champagne, hoping the sparkling liquid will throw a blanket over the storm within.
I need something stronger. “Excuse me one second, I’m just going to…
switch out my drink.” I hold my empty glass up and ignore the look of concern etched onto Mia’s delicate features.
Turning on my heel, I stalk away as fast as I can.
Sweat beads on my palms and my breathing comes in a little heavy.
I spy the drinks table, but I can already tell it’s too late for that.
I need privacy so I can let this panic attack have its intimate moment with me before I tell it to fuck off.
Veering left, I find myself in a decadent hallway, lavished with deep, plum red carpet and a gilded ceiling.
A furious tattoo beats in my chest as fight or flight swallows me whole.
“Chloe?” I curse inwardly as I hear Zeke’s deep voice behind me, followed by his heavy footsteps.
“I’m fine, just…need a minute,” I choke out, clutching at my tight throat with shaking fingers. I’m at the end of the hallway now and round the corner, spotting a doorway at one end. Whatever lies beyond that is my goal.
“Chloe!” A rough hand snakes around my upper arm, jerking me backward.
He takes one look at my face and his whole demeanor changes.
Moisture springs to my eyes as I fight for breath.
His eyes flare with some unknown emotion and he closes the distance between us, cocooning me close to the wall with his body.
“Just breathe with me, baby,” he says softly, lifting one hand to cup my cheek.
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, and I focus all of my attention on reciprocating.
He blows the breath out of his mouth, and it hits my heated skin like a caress.
When we suck in our next breath, the masculine scent of him lodges in my nose and sparks a kernel of desire amongst the panic.
By the fourth time, my chest is tight for a whole other reason.
“What’s going on?” he asks, tracing his thumb lightly beneath my lower lip.
Fuck. How do I explain this without baring everything?
The pull to spill my guts to him threatens to overwhelm me, but I just know that the moment he sees my mess, he’ll stop looking at me the way he is right now.
Like he wants to close the distance between us and kiss me until I forget everything that isn’t his name. I want that too.
I grapple around for something, anything to throw at him that isn’t the truth.
“I’m just sick of being seen on the arm of someone who has fucked half the people in the room.
” Anger, my old friend. So easily and readily plucked from my armory to deflect.
He rears his head back a few inches, his nostrils flaring. “It’s fucking embarrassing.”
“Who am I supposed to have fucked this time?” he snarls, his thumb tightening around my chin so hard it almost hurts.
“You tell me! Penelope, for starters. I mean, really Zeke, at what point do you—” He stuns me into silence by reaching up his thumb and dragging it over my lips, smearing my lipstick.
My lower lip pops back into place as his thumb reaches my chin and a streak of something primal and dark rocks across burning chocolate irises.
Before I can find my voice, he does it again, this time pressing both of my lips to the side as he smears lipstick across my cheek.
“I didn’t sleep with Penelope. She offered, I declined. It was long before we met, so quit spilling that fucking venom from your lips and behave.”
Stunned into silence, my heart hammers wildly against my ribs as he leans down and slides his nose along mine, rough fingers tracing down the backs of my arms to capture my waist. Our breath tangles, goosebumps erupt, and he’s pressed so tightly to my body that the heat of him threatens to overwhelm me.
My fingers jump up and ball tightly around the lapels of his suit jacket, and my head tips back without my permission, silently offering my mouth to his.
We’re so close that only a hair's width separates our lips now, but he chuckles darkly into my parted mouth.
One hand reaches up to snake around my throat, pinning me in place against the wall.
I whimper, my eyes wide as he stares at me.
“Oh no, mi fuego. I told you that I would make you beg, and I meant it.” He smirks wickedly as he tilts his head to score his teeth along the line of my jaw, drawing a throaty moan from me as my eyes drift shut. Tingles dance along my skin, sending a hard line straight between my legs.
I try to clench my thighs, but he slips his leg between them, pinning me in place.
My eyes snap open, my chest heaving as desire rips through my veins like wildfire.
Annoyance flares and I curl my lip back to bare my teeth.
Slipping one hand between us and wrapping my fingers around the rock-hard length of him through his pants, I meet his glittering gaze.
He grunts, the smile dying on his decadent lips as I squeeze.
I feel him pulse beneath my grip and his primal hold on my throat tightens.
I knew it was big, but my god. I doubt I’d be able to wrap my fingers all the way around.
“What do you want, Chloe?” His voice is like gravel, rough and deep.
I switch tactics, dropping my hand and hiking one leg around his hip so that I can grind up against him.
His eyes flare like molten pools of lava, and even though his hand pushes my throat harder into the wall, he rocks his hips into me like he’s unable to stop himself.
He lets out a long groan from the back of his throat that sets my skin on fire.
Pleasure bursts from where we touch, the friction sending sweet tingles dancing into my lower belly.
“Mujer testaruda, me vuelves jodidamente loco,” he bites out through gritted teeth, suddenly dropping his hold on my throat to snatch up both of my thighs and wrap them around his hips, scooping me off the floor.
My back hits the wall and air hits my ass where he slips my dress up to my waist. He rocks his hips into me again, the thick, hard length of his cock pressing right against my core, his fingers digging into my ass.
We both groan as I feel my underwear slip over my slick clit, our foreheads pressed together.
“You don’t get more than this until you say it, Chloe,” he snarls as he snaps his hips forward again.
I throw my head back and let out a strangled moan.
My body is aflame, alight with a desperate need that has me barreling toward some invisible edge.
Maybe this is enough, I tell myself as I grapple at his broad shoulder and sink my other hand into the silky hair at the back of his neck.
But it isn’t. He’s keeping his movements maddeningly slow and torturous, dangling me on the precipice.
One large hand grips my ass to him, using it to measure his sparing thrusts, while the other traces loving paths up my body over my dress.
His palm swipes over my stomach, up to the center of my sternum, before he traces a circle around the bare skin of my breast spilling above my neckline.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Chloe. Your skin is glowing.
” My eyes fly open as I feel his stubble abrade my throat.
He sinks his teeth into the juncture between my neck and shoulder just as his sure fingers find my beaded nipple through the fabric of my dress and tweak.
The sensations collide as I cry out desperately, fisting my hand tightly in his hair.
Pleasure and pain dance across my skin in equal measure, feeding the steady buildup of pressure behind my hips. My whole body aches, my pussy clenches in protest around nothing, and all logic flies out of the window.
“Please!” I gasp, clamping down on my lower lip with my teeth.
He lets out a strangled sound that sounds like half growl, half roar, and we’re moving—rough fingers finding the strap of my dress, ripping it to the side so forcefully it tears—through a door and into a restroom.
The sound of the door slamming closed behind us shatters the air and I see the briefest flash of smoldering onyx eyes glittering with victory before his lips are on mine.
I melt into him, moaning into his mouth as his tongue thrusts in.
Dominating, fighting with mine. Exploring every inch.
There is a tugging pressure between my legs as my back hits another wall and I hear the sound of tearing silk.
The material of my panties drags over my clit as he snatches it away, discarding them to the floor.
We’re a tangle of tongues and teeth and limbs, both of us grappling for his suit jacket, which is cast to the floor.
Buttons spray the marble tile at his feet like rapid-fire bullets as his shirt is ripped open, baring glorious planes of tanned, tattooed skin.
We both reach for the buckle of his belt.
The tinkle of metal fills the air as it’s tugged free, his zipper follows, and then…
he wastes no time in thrusting his enormous cock into my soaked entrance.
A vicious cry rips from my lips as he steals every inch I have to give, and then takes two more, sharp pain biting at my flesh. He lets out a low guttural sound, followed by a string of curse words. Some English and some I don’t understand.
“Fuck…fuck! Chloe, you’re too fucking tight.” He stills, seated deeply within me, filling me more completely than I’ve ever felt in my life. Pain ebbs and blends into something darker, more demanding.
“Give me more,” I gasp, tugging his mouth back to mine and kissing him with everything I have.
He groans and begins to move in short, sharp thrusts at first as he stretches my body to fit him.
With each snap of his hips, he hits the end of me, sending a visceral spark of pleasure through my pelvis.
My nails rake down his bare shoulder, hard enough to draw blood.
But he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, I swear I feel his cock pulse inside me.
“God, you feel so good,” he groans before delivering a slightly deeper thrust so that I’m shoved up the wall a few inches.
He buries a hand in my hair and pulls back to watch me as he moves.
“I’ve wanted to fuck this tight little pussy from the moment I laid eyes on you, did you know that?
” Another thrust, so hard my teeth rattle and my eyes flutter shut as I cry out.
His hand fists roughly, sending a frisson of pain dancing across my scalp. “Look at me!” he barks. “You stay with me when we fuck, you got that?” he growls, snapping his hips forward again. My eyes go wide, but I manage to nod.
“Good girl.” Thrust, thrust, thrust. In quick succession this time, as though rewarding me for my obedience, and it’s enough to leave me dangling on the edge of something that feels devastating.
Like it will rip the life force right from me if I surrender to it.
He eases off, and I let out a soft growl of frustration as I feel myself drift back from that ledge.
His dark eyes sparkle as his gaze falls to my lips, his pupils blown so wide his eyes are almost wholly black.
“Use your words, baby. Answer my question,” he orders, drawing out of me so that just the tip of him is notched inside.
My mind is spinning, and I have no idea what he even asked, because all my brain can think about is how to get him moving inside me again.
I squirm, trying to sink down onto his length.
He chuckles. His fingers dig into one side of my hips so hard they will bruise.
“You knew I wanted to fuck you like this, didn’t you? This whole time, you knew.”
“Yes!” I sob, mindless with need, my pussy clamping down on what I have left of him.
He grunts, baring his white teeth at me in a wicked smile that looks half grimace and all danger. “You want more?”
“Please, Zeke,” I gasp, having no room for embarrassment, only words that will give me what I want. What I need. And he knows it.
“My greedy girl, you can have it all if you tell me just one thing.”
“Anything,” I mewl, tipping my head back in frustration.
He slides his nose up the column of my throat, nipping and biting, abrading me with his stubble and sending red hot zaps across my flesh.
When he reaches my face, he presses his lips to mine in a restrained kiss.
I try to deepen it, but he pulls back. “I swear to fucking god, Zeke, if you don’t—”
“Tell me you wanted it too.” He snarls, tugging my hair back so that I’m forced to look at him.
Easy. “I wanted it too!” I cry, feeling my brows crease together as frustration rises and interlaces with a frantic need.
Victory dances in those night-swept irises and before I know what’s happening, we’re moving.
He spins us around and lays me flat on the vanity, making my back arch as the cold marble touches my skin.
My first sight of him towering above me snatches any breath I had remaining right out of my lungs.
He’s enormous, every bulging, tattooed muscle coiled with restrained power, sinews tight.
But what really shakes me is having all of that laser intensity focused entirely on me.
Like I’ve consumed him. Like I’m the only thing in his world right now. It’s a heady drug of power.
His hands find the seam of my dress and rip, tearing the fabric at the side so that it hangs loosely around my bare body. Silky eyes glow like lanterns in the night as he takes in every inch of me splayed out before him.