25. Zack
25
ZACK
Adam:
Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you home yet?
Brax:
Yeah, get your ass back here. Some of us are sick of covering your ranch chores while you relax on vacation.
Zack:
We’ll be there by dinner.
Brax:
Good. I’ll save you some chores.
Adam:
Did you get Hurricane Red?
Zack:
Yeah. We Essie Price’d that shit.
Brax:
…
Adam:
…
Brax:
Oh, hell. You stole a horse, didn’t you.
I woke up sore but rested. Hannah had spoiled me last night, after we left the library and retreated to our room. She had patched up the cut on my elbow and my knee and then given me another coconut-oil massage. She had also suggested I look up my insurance benefits and see if they covered massage for injury recovery. I told her I would, but I had the feeling it wouldn’t work as well as her hands. A trained masseuse might be more technically skilled, but Hannah was…Hannah.
I turned my head to the side and found Hannah looking back at me, a speculative light in her pretty blue eyes.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” I returned.
She smiled.
I smiled.
“Let’s see if I can still do it,” she suggested.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Come on your dick.”
“Well, I’m not going to say no to that .”
I wrapped an arm around her naked body and hauled her, laughing, on top of me. I took her with me as I scootched backward until I was half reclining against the headboard, with her straddling my abdomen.
She slapped her hands on my pecs and leaned forward to kiss me, bumping her nose against mine in the process. She laughed. “My depth perception isn’t great without my glasses,” she said against my mouth. I felt her lips tilt up in a smile. “Also, your dick is poking me in the butt.” She was still smiling when she pulled back.
I cocked my head, studying her. She was different this morning. Normally, Hannah was reserved. Not shy. I wouldn’t call her shy. But she was…brisk. Matter-of-fact. I had no complaints about any of that. She was who she was, and I liked who she was. A whole hell of a lot, in fact.
But this morning, she was as warm and bright as the sunshine peeking through the curtains. She seemed lighter, somehow. Like some trouble had eased away.
She pushed up on her knees and lifted her hips, then reached for my cock, gave it a squeeze, and brought it to her entrance.
I put a stop to that immediately. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not ready for me yet.”
She scowled. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?”
I flicked both my thumbs over her nipples.
“All right,” she said. “Foreplay it is.”
I grinned. “Great idea.”
I tweaked her nipples, gently at first and then harder. She squirmed against me and…yeah, she was damp. But I wanted her soaked . Soaked and begging. Last night wasn’t a fluke, but I wasn’t going to leave it to chance and risk disappointing her today.
I slid my hands over her soft, sleep-warm skin and pressed against her spine, guiding her breasts to my mouth. I captured one nipple and swirled my tongue around it, sucking gently. She gasped and dug her nails into my neck.
When I released her nipple with a wet popping sound, she dove for my mouth, cupping my cheeks in both hands. The kiss caught me by surprise. The fervor of it. The sweetness. For a moment I lost myself in it, completely forgetting that I’d had other plans for her body when she waylaid me with her mouth. All I want is for her to kiss me like this, forever.
Forever.
The thought shook me up so much that I literally shook .
She pulled back and looked at me, still cupping my face. Her lips started to form words, but I didn’t give her the chance to get them out. I lurched forward, sitting fully upright, and kissed her again. With her mouth occupied, I maneuvered my hand between us until I found her clit. She groaned into my mouth.
She got even wetter with me rubbing her clit, but it still wasn’t enough. I slid a finger into her entrance, the heel of my hand still pressed firmly against her clit. She broke the kiss with a gasp as I slowly pumped into her. When I added a second finger, her hips started rocking back and forth, riding my hand.
“That’s it, duchess,” I growled in her ear. “Take it.”
“Please,” she gasped. “More, please.”
There it was. She was soaked and begging.
I slid my fingers out of her. “Put me inside you.”
Bracing one hand on my shoulder, she lifted up on her knees and found my cock with her other hand, guiding it to her entrance. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips parted as she slowly sank down on my cock, inch by inch. My cock pulsed inside her and I gripped her hips hard.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hannah, I nearly came just watching you sit on my cock like that.”
“Hmm.” There was a sweet little half-smile on her mouth that made me want to bite her. She moved her hips slowly…experimentally. Finding what felt good. “You’re so big . It takes me a second to get used to it.”
I groaned. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I didn’t say I liked it.” She circled her hips again, still so fucking slowly I was going to lose my goddamn mind, and stroked my jaw. “I love it.”
My chest felt like it might crack open. I wanted to do the dumbest shit. Laugh. Cry. Make her tell me every other part she loved. Maybe if she loved enough parts, it would add up to the whole of me.
Fucking terrifying that I wanted that.
I grabbed a handful of her fantastic ass and squeezed. “Duchess,” I growled. “ Ride .”
She smirked. And then she rode. Hard.
She tilted her hips, pitching forward slightly, seeking pressure.
“You need more?” I asked.
“Only a little,” she whispered.
I brushed her clit with my thumb and she whimpered. I pressed a little harder, my eyes searching her face.
“There,” she gasped. “Oh, god, there .”
Her words made me want to push harder, drive deeper, move faster, but I held on and didn’t change a goddamn thing. Her eyelashes fluttered again. She managed to force them fully open, bright and blue and boring straight into mine.
“ Zack .”
She said my name like it was everything and then her eyes slammed shut and she came on a cry, squeezing my cock with her pussy and making me lose my goddamn mind. I grabbed her hips and thrust into her, again and again, with brutal, desperate thrusts. And then I was there, coming harder than I’ve ever fucking come in my life. I bit down on her shoulder as I spilled into her.
She collapsed on me and I nuzzled against her. There’s a red spot on her shoulder where I put my teeth. I kissed it and she sighed like she was letting something go.
“I wasn’t sure it would happen,” she said. “I thought it might have been the library.”
“The library?”
“Yeah. It’s a fantasy. Lots of romance books have a library sex scene. It’s a whole thing.”
I had noticed that, actually. But it hadn’t been on my mind last night. The only thing I had been thinking of was telling her demons to fuck all the way off. I knew it wasn’t really a cure. Maybe her demons would fade with time, or maybe she’d be fighting them the rest of her life. But at least she had taken something back.
“It wasn’t the library,” I growled into her neck. “It was my magic dick and you know it.”
She laughed. “Maybe. To be fair, magic dicks are another theme in romance books. Magic dicks that lull you into a false sense of security right before the third-act breakup hits.” She paused. “I guess we couldn’t break up anyway, since this is just sex for instructional purposes.”
It was like she had poured a bucket of ice over my head. “I thought you said I was your boyfriend now,” I teased, smirking like her words hadn’t opened up a black hole in my chest.
“No, I asked you if you were my boyfriend, and you said I could call it what I want to. I haven’t decided what that is yet. It seems presumptuous to hand you a title you don’t want.”
“I want it.” The words practically tripped over themselves in their haste to get out of my mouth. “I want it, Hannah Bell.”
Her eyes searched my face, her forehead creased in a puzzled frown, like it was only just now dawning on her that I was completely serious. Then a slow smile spread across her face. “All right, then. You can have it.”
“Good. I’ll take it.” I kissed her smiling mouth, then pulled away and gave her hair a gentle tug. “But when this third-act breakup hits, I need you to remember something.”
Her eyebrows went up. “What’s that?”
I leaned forward. “I’m not going to just take you back after some basic apology. I want a grovel. A big, messy, public grovel.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. The man is supposed to grovel in romance books, not the woman. Readers love a groveling man.”
“What can I say, I’m a feminist. And if anyone is capable of breaking a heart, it’s you, duchess.” She opened her mouth but I kissed her. “I’ll try to find it in my heart to forgive you,” I said against her lips. “A blowjob will probably help.”
She laughed.
And then she kissed me back.