"Viktor's staying at Coach Harper’s tonight." Zach leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching me with that intense stare of his. "Thought it might be a good way to . . . expand our horizons."
I saunter closer to inspect the setup, running my fingers along the black leather seat and sturdy chains. "You want to spice things up?"
"I need more . . . intensity. But I don’t want to make youuncomfortable."
We've been working around my claustrophobia in bed—me on top or him taking me from behind without ever leaning over—but I know it's been limiting for him.
"You did this for us?"
"Yes." He grabs a silver gift bag from his desk, then walks over to me with that predatory grace that never fails to make my skin tingle. "I want to push your limits, Little Scorpion. But only if you trust me."
"Since when do you do gifts?" I eye the bag suspiciously.
"Just open it."
I reach inside and . . . Holy shit, my dick instantly perks up because I’d know that texture anywhere. When I pull the collar free of the tissue paper, my breath catches.
It’s the softest shade of lavender I've ever seen, and a delicate gold scorpion medallion hangs from the center.
"Matches your eyes," he says in that deep, gravelly voice that never ceases to get me going. "Saw it and knew it was yours. My fierce little scorpion."
Fuck.
Just . . . fuck.
My eyes start stinging because how the hell does he do this? The man, who supposedly can't process emotions, constantly wrecks me with these unexpected surprises. "Put it on?"
I tilt my head back as he brings the collar around my throat. The leather is soft as butter against my skin. Andwhen he buckles it, that delicious pressure sends a wave of heat straight to my dick.
Zach adjusts the medallion so it rests in the hollow of my throat, and he smiles when I whimper. "Perfect."
With a growl, he captures my mouth in a kiss that's all tongue and teeth and desperate need. I moan into it, my hands fisting in his shirt as he backs me against the swing.
"Fuck." I pant when we break apart, my head spinning. "I'm gonna need you to strip me down faster than a Formula 1 pit crew."
He pulls back just enough to smirk, his hands already working at the hem of my shirt. "I can handle that."
My shirt hits the floor, followed quickly by my skinny jeans, which takes some impressive maneuvering on his part. When I'm finally naked, his eyes rake over me like he wants to devour me whole.
"God, you're beautiful."
"And you're overdressed." I tug at his sweatshirt, desperate to get my hands on him. "Get naked, or I'll do it for you."
He yanks off his clothes and fuck. No matter how many times I see him, my mouth still waters at those thick muscles, at how the tattoos down his left arm shift with each movement. His pierced cock is already hard and leaking, the metal catching the light in a way that makes heat pool low in my belly.
"Shit, Merci." He groans as I wrap my hand around him, his hips jerking forward. "You drive me fucking insane."
"Good." I stroke him slowly, loving how the piercings drag against my palm. "I love when you go all feral."
His hand shoots out, wrapping around my wrist and pulling it away. "Get in the swing, Little Scorpion."
Right.
Easier said than done.
I eye the contraption, suddenly aware that this isn't like hopping into a chair. "Uh, little help here?"
Zach's hands settle on my hips, steadying me as I climb into the swing. The leather cradles my thighs as I lower myself, and holy fuck, the straps feel better than expected against my bare skin. He carefully adjusts each strap, ensuring my weight is distributed properly.
