Then he slipped one hand lower, easing a finger inside me, curling it just right, justperfectly, while his mouth never once faltered. The combination shattered something loose in mychest. The sound was torn from the place where language failed and only feeling remained.
The orgasm hit me hard, hot and consuming, pleasure blooming behind my eyes as my back arched and my vision blurred with starlight and tears. I clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring me to the edge of the world.
My lungs were still trying to remember how to work when I felt his mouth trail a line of slow, open-mouthed kisses up my thigh. My fingers were tangled in his hair, barely able to loosen as he rose from his knees, the shift in his posture sending sparks of anticipation darting through my bloodstream.
When I finally managed to look at him again, he was staring at me like I’d just handed him the fucking sky.
“Mine,” he whispered roughly. “Always.”
Then, with that same fluid command of motion he leaned in, pressed a kiss to my sternum, and whispered against my skin, “Now you’re ready to take me.”
My breath caught and stars help me, the hunger in his eyes could’ve scorched the night out of the sky. He didn’t wait for permission—not because he didn’t care, but because he already knew the answer. My body was ready and aching, and when he lifted me into his arms again, I didn’t resist. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and let him carry me the short distance back into the bedroom.
The cool air vanished as we crossed the threshold, warmth swallowing us again as he laid me gently down across the mattress, his body bracketing mine.When he moved over me, when the hard, aching weight of him pressed against my inner thigh, I tensed, just barely.
Not from fear. From the sheermagnitudeof what I knew was coming.
His hand found mine and laced our fingers together.
“You think you can take me?” he teased, pressing in more to prove his size.
“Yes,” I breathed out, “very much so.”
His hips shifted the head of his cock pressed against my entrance, hot and thick and somuchit made my thighs fall wider on instinct.
“I’m going to need you to say my name this time,” he rasped, eyes burning with heat. “Say my name. Loudly. I want the entire house—the entire neighborhood—to know who’s buried inside you.”
Heat flushed up my neck at the command, my body arching against his without thinking—but my voice caught. Not because I didn’t want to, but because the thought of being heard…ofeveryonehearing was a new thought. I’d noticed how he left the balcony doors open. This wasn’t just about the guys in our home hearing, but truly everyone that was within earshot.
His hips rolled forward an inch, just enough for the tip of him to breach me, and I gasped at the burn, at the stretch and pressure of it. My hands gripped his arms, fingers digging into muscle.
“Niz—” I whimpered, a cross between pain and pleasure.
“Louder.”
He thrusted slowly and deliberately until I felt the thick drag of him sliding further in. My body tightened around him, pleasure and pressure threading together to block out the slight sting. “Say it like you mean it. Like youbelongto me.”
“Niz,” I breathed out, a little louder this time.
He stopped. Buried only halfway, his body trembling with restraint above mine as his hands braced on either side of my hips. I looked up, confused, already reaching for him again, but his mouth curved into a wicked smirk.
“Oh, no, My Fire,” he said softly. “You want to feel me entirely and to cum around my cock? Then you’ll give me what I asked for.”
He withdrew all the way out.
The sudden emptiness made my whole body cry out in protest. My thighs instinctively chased him, hips lifting off the bed, but he didn’t reward the motion. Instead, he settled just far enough out of reach to make me ache with frustration.
He leaned down, one hand coming up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek.
“I’ll keep you on the edge all godsdamn night,” he murmured, “until you scream it loud enough that no one in this city forgets it.”
“Niz—” I tried, panting, frustrated, already desperate to feel him again.
He shushed me with a kiss. “Not like that, but I’ll give you one more chance to feel what you’re missing.”
Then he slid in again, just the head, and held it there, hips still.
My nails scraped down his back, and I was half a second from growling in frustration when he moved again, this time thrusting in slow, shallow strokes that didnothingto push me over the edge. They only teased and denied. He built pressure that went nowhere, an ache so sharp it bordered on unbearable.
