And for long moments afterward, the only sound in the room is our ragged breathing, the slick, obscene noises of his cock sliding in and out of my oversensitive pussy.
Then, when he slowly pulls out and his seed spills from me, he curses.
His hand returns between my legs, and I feel him pushing the spill back in.
I don’t waste my breath asking why he’s doing it, or point out the senselessness of it. Zane Draven is rabid and stubborn about a laundry list of things in life, but especially I’m discovering, where I’m concerned.
So I let him finish his little ritual.
Paint the residual spend on his fingers all over my body.
Then I collapse onto the bed, my body boneless, my skin tingling everywhere he touched me.
I close my eyes even though I feel him watching me.
And sure as shit, he doesn’t let me stay there long.
His hands are on me again, lifting me, his mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss that’s all teeth and hunger.
“Shower. Now,” he growls against my lips, already dragging me toward the en-suite bathroom. “I don’t want any fucker out there smelling your beautiful come and getting ideas.”
The water is scalding when he turns it on, steam filling the air, but I barely notice. His hands are on me again, plumping mytits, plucking my nipples before he groans and drops his head to suckle me.
And the moment we’re under the spray, he presses me against the tile wall, his body caging me in. The water sluices over us and washes away the glitter, the cum, the evidence of what we’ve just done, but his hands are already replacing it, his fingers tracing over my skin like he’s memorizing me.
Marking me all over again.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you. You’re addictive, Ruby,” he whispers as his lips brushes the shell of my ear.
Wicked teeth graze my collarbone before his lips close around my other nipple, sucking hard.
“God, Zane. What are you doing to me?”
“Giving you everything you deserve. And more.”
He finishes the dark promise with a bite, and I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair. His cock is hard again, pressing against my stomach, his desire for me already renewed. “One more, baby. Please.”
The water rages hotter, but neither of us move.
The carnal tension between us is electric, the story far from over. When his hand slides between my thighs, when his fingers find my clit, circling slowly, possessively my head falls back in open, raging hunger.
And when he murmurs, “Again, I want you again,” I sigh to the heavens.
And I give in.
Who cares about five minutes of peace when I can have an hour of bliss?
Fifteen minutes later, we’re showered and in bed.
I’ve hydrated with the bottled water he insisted I drink and the bowl of fruit he fed me with his fingers.
I’m beautifully exhausted and I could sleep for a thousand years, but the day isn’t over. And already I feel fresh tension building in him.
I sigh into his skin as he trails a hand down my back. And I know he’s about to say something charged even before he speaks.
“Baby,” he whispers, forehead pressing to mine, “I swear to God, if you ever leave my sight again?—”
The door rattles.
