My eyes water with the ferocious burn. His hands clench in my hair and on my hip to hold me still as I shake and shake and shake.
“You’re doing good, sweetheart. So good. Now, relax,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. “Let me in.”
I take a deep breath and coax my body to obey as the vibrator buzzes, sending jolts of pleasure through me. Just as his cock breaches my ass again, steady and unrelenting.
He slides in deeper this time.
To my eternal surprise, my body moves, rocking back against his steel pipe.
Zane chuckles darkly. “That’s it,” he grunts with satisfaction, his voice thick with approval. “Take it for me, baby. Take all of me.”
His fingers leave my hair to grip my waist. And then Zane drags me on and off his cock, stretching me, filling me, driving me higher and higher. My breath pants in short, sharp gasps, my body trembling with the effort to take him deeper.
The experience is alien and intense. But with every second he thrusts in and out of me, a different kind of pleasure steals over me.
My moans grow louder, my fingers clenching in the sheets. I meet his thrusts and sob when he invades me deeper.
“There she is. My little cock slut. You love it already, don’t you? Having this tight little ass fucked.”
“Hmm…God…yes,” I confess brokenly. Because I do.
“Gonna gape you so good. Spit all over it. Mark you inside and out.”
The litany of filthy words drives me straight to the edge.
“Come, baby girl,” he commands, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you clench around my cock. I want to hear you scream my name.”
That’s all I need. I splinter into a thousand pieces. My body convulses, my muscles locking tight around his cock and the vibrator as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. The convulsions send him wild.
Zane groans, his hand locking on tight enough to leave bruises.
“Fuck, Ruby.” His voice is strained to near incoherence as his cock pulses in my ass, filling me with his seed. “You’re so fucking perfect. Every dream I didn’t know to want.”
I’m blind and deaf and dumb when we collapse into bed afterward, skin flushed, lungs shaky, nerves jangling in that Zane Draven way that leaves me wondering whether I’m going to sob, scream, or sleep for eight hours without moving.
Spoiler…it’ssleep…after he carries me to the shower and washes me from head to toe once more.
Or rather, it should be sleep.
I’m drifting, eyelids heavy, muscles softening into the mattress when I hear it… a rustling sound, faint but purposeful.
Zippers moving and something clinking. I raise my head off the pillow and look around.
It’s Zane…in the bathroom.
No biggie. I try to settle but something in my stomach tightens, sharp and uneasy, and once that sensation takes root, there’s no chance I’m drifting back to sleep.
So I slip out of bed, padding quietly to the doorway.
He’s crouched over my open vanity bag.
My pulse jumps and when I speak my voice comes out steady, miracle of the century. “What are you doing?”
He straightens, turns and holds up a pair of tweezers between two fingers. “Looking for these. I’ve got a demon splinter driving me insane.”
The knot in my stomach loosens so abruptly I sway. “Jesus, Zane,” I exhale. “Want me to help?”
He crosses to me in two strides, kisses me hard, deliberate and greedy in that way he always is when he wants me close but wants one tiny inch of control more.
