Gallan bent so that our faces were only a feather’s breadth apart. “Say what?”
“You know what.”
He smiled. “You’re mine, Zaira,” he said. “Every inch of you is mine – mine to taste, mine to touch; mine to worship and love, and mine to fuck.Always.” He erased the dwindling space between us and kissed me.
I moaned, and when he splayed his hands over the back of my thighs before lifting me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist and bunched his hair in a fist.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, and then began walking us to my bed.
“I want you, Gallan,” I said almost breathlessly. “God, I want you inside me so bad.” My vision was glazed over by my need for him; my mind felt drugged with the way he kissed me.
He nuzzled his nose against mine. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
I laughed. “Of course you do.”
He placed me on my bed, and then sat back on his knees as he ran those dark eyes of his over my body.
“Take off your shirt,” he commanded.
I let go of a short breath, and then pulled my purple turtleneck over my head before throwing it on the floor.
“Pants – off,” he said next.
My fingers were trembling in impatience as I unbuttoned my white jeans and pushed them down my thighs. Gallan slid them off me completely and let them join my shirt on the floor.
“Spread your legs for me, Zaira,” he ordered, and Christ, his voice held a hunger just as wild as the one I was feeling.
I widened my legs.
“Touch yourself,” he said, “but only over your underwear.”
I cupped one of my breasts, and used my other hand to rub myself over my black panties.
“Jesus,” he hissed, and began unzipping his jeans. “Don’t stop.”
My lips parted in a silent cry as I continued to stroke myself. I felt beads of sweat running down the back of my ears and onto my neck.
Gallan got off the bed and pulled his jeans and underwear down, and then fisted his cock as he came to kneel to my left. “Bra, underwear – off now, Zaira.” There was a husk in his voice that made me ache for him further.
I quickly did as he’d asked, and once every piece of my clothing was on the floor, I watched as he propped himself on an elbow and lied next to me. I exhaled shakily when he ran a calloused hand over my quivering thigh and leaned in to kiss me. “You okay with this?” he asked sweetly – his tone a vivid contrast to his flared pupils and rapidly moving chest.
“More than,” I answered.
He grinned, and then his fingers were on my folds. He parted them, and slowly, he pushed one, and then a second finger inside me.
My back and head bowed off the mattress, and when he began circling his thumb over my clit and finger-fucking me in earnest, I cried out his name and fisted his cock.
“No, don’t,” he said against my lips. “I don’t wanna come like this, this time. I want to be inside you; I want to feel your walls pulsing around me when I let go. I want to feelyourpleasure as I give into mine.”
God, his words… They burned every single vein in my body. They made me feel powerful and wanted. They made me feel sinful and desired.
With a nod, I let go of him, and when he kissed me again and pushed his fingers inside me, I moaned as my orgasm crashed against me, made me see stars. I bunched my bedsheet in a fist and bit Gallan’s bottom lip when he circled his fingers inside me a time or two, and then slowed them down before running them up and down my folds.
“Mmm.” I smiled when he moved back and gazed at me.
He brought his fingers to his mouth, and then began sucking on them with his eyes closed. “So good,” he groaned. “So fuckinggood.”
I pressed my thighs together when a throbbing sensation built between them again. “Gallan…”
