“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he groans as his fingers slide between my thighs, gathering my slickness before dragging it up to my ass.
I gasp as he circles my tight hole, his touch teasing, possessive. “Been thinking about this all day. About how tight you’d be. About how good you’d take me here.” His voice is a dark, dirty murmur. “But we’ll save it for another day, hmm? Need time with that special little hole. Now…let’s take care of this other precious hole.”
I snatch in an anticipatory breath and before I can breathe out, his cock is there, pressing against my entrance, thick and demanding.
His grip on my hip is punishing and even though I brace myself, the first thrust is brutal.
Sublime and perfect in its pain/pleasure ratio.
In one week of fucking Zane, I’ve only managed to take another inch, a situation that makes him growl with frustration every time he hits my end and I whimper.
He thrusts into me now in one deep, relentless stroke, filling me completely, stretching me around him until I’m gasping, my fingers clawing at the sheets.
“Oh god—I’m so full. Zane…argh!” The words tumble from my throat as my voice breaks.
I’m not sure how it’s possible but he feels bigger every time, his cock hitting places inside me that ruin my vision.
I try to keep my voice down but Saint Sin has made it clear to his crew and everyone within a hundred-mile radius that we’re fucking.
And so when his hands dig deeper into my hips, when he pulls back and slams into me again, I don’t hold back my shout.
“So fucking tight,” he groans, his voice strained. “Like you were made for me.” His cock pistons in and out of me, each thrust deeper than the last, his balls slapping against my clit with every snap of his hips.
I feel him everywhere—inside me, surrounding me, owning me.
Hands callused by guitar strumming trail down my back. Then he’s toying with my asshole again, pushing against my puckered flesh.
I’ve never had anal, and I suspect it’s only a matter of time before Zane Draven breaks my last virginity.
“I’m gonna stretch you open.” His voice is a dark, demonic promise. “Gonna make you beg for it. Then I’m gonna gape you nice and dirty. Fill you with the best cream pie in the world.”
The filthy words send jolts of pleasure through me, and when my pussy clenches around his cock, he throws his head back and hisses, his grip tightening. “Fuck, just like that. Milk my cock, Ruby.”
His finger presses harder against my ass, not quite breaching me, just teasing, and the dual sensation of his cock pounding into my pussy and his finger threatening to invade me, has me spiraling.
My moans turn to desperate pleas, my body trembling as my orgasm builds like a storm I can’t outrun.
Zane, so attuned to my body we almost share one heartbeat, feels it.
His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back so my neck is exposed, my back arching. And holy hell, the way my tits sway with every thrust is so dirty I could come just from that motion alone.
“Gonna cum so deep inside you,” he grates. “Gonna fill you up now, mix my seed with this fucking glitter. Mark you. Own you.” His cock swells inside me, his thrusts turning erratic as his control shatters.
His hands move from my hip to my clit, and he strums me as expertly as his favourite strings. And my body? It delivers. With a wail and a scream that sears my throat, I come hard on Zane’s beautiful cock.
Less than a second later, he’s coming too, with a guttural roar.
His seed floods me in thick, hot pulses, his brutal grip keeping me pinned as he buries himself to the hilt and unloads inside.
Courtesy of a medical he insisted on before we left LA, a three-month supply of contraceptive pills, and a dual declaration of perfect health, I can take the leader of the best rock band in the world without a condom.
And that shiny new, unvarnished sensation seems to escalate my libido another level, I cry out again as the sensation of his come drenching my insides sends another wave of bliss crashingover me, my pussy clenching around him harder as pleasure batters me nice and good.
“Fuck, you love taking me raw, don’t you?” His voice is thick with pure male satisfaction.
There’s no point denying it, so I don’t. “Yes.” It comes out a girly sob of gratification because he doesn’t stop thrusting, doesn’t stop filling me until he’s dripping down my thighs, mixing with the glitter still clinging to my skin.
Just as he promised.
