2
Gypsy
Our mouths collide—teeth clashing, spit mixing, and more tongue than there should be. It’s messy, raw, and unrefined. Zayan’s fingers twist in my hair like it’s the only thing anchoring him to this world, and it should be off-putting, the way he grips me so hard, but it’s not.
It’s perfect.
Rough, unpolished, anything but gentle.
I lunge at him, my fingers digging into the back of his neck, pulling myself closer until my legs lock around his waist.
“Hurry,” I breathe, my nails scraping down his skin, biting deep enough to draw blood.
He doesn’t flinch. If anything, it only fuels him. His grip tightens, fingers trailing down to grab my ass—rough, brutal, as if he’s holding back from tearing me apart. He touches me like he hates me, like he’s balancing on the edge of control, and any second, he might give in.
I can’t blame him. We’re supposed to be enemies. Marauder and Serpent. Rivals from the principle. The only thing thatshould exist between us is bloodshed, yet here we are, tangled together in the dark, breaking every rule our crews live by.
Maybe that’s why it feels so right. Maybe we’re both addicted to this dangerous edge, this tightrope between pleasure and ruin.
“Don’t rush me,” Zayan groans, his fingers sinking into my flesh with a hard squeeze. I squirm against him, trying to throw him off balance.
“I have to.”
Time is slipping through my fingers. There’s never enough of it. I want to lose myself in him, to drag this out until we’re both half-mad, but not tonight. Not now.
How do I convince him to do it, though? This beast of a man who thrives on taking his time, on savoring every second of our encounters…?
He doesn’t like to be rushed. Since the first time we crossed paths, Zayan has always taken his time—savoring every second, every stolen encounter, as if he’s memorizing me. And maybe he is. We meet too rarely for anything else. Every moment could be our last.
This time it really might be. This time itshouldbe.
“Gypsy, just stop fighting me,” he breathes, trying to claim my mouth again, biting and battling for dominance.
But the day I stop fighting will be the day I die.
I shift my weight just right, using his own strength against him. His body hits the sand with a grunt, and I come down with him, the grains shifting beneath us like it was always meant to be this way.
“It’s you who should stop fighting me,” I whisper, tasting him on my lips—like salt, spice, and a hint of danger. He tastes too damn good for a man who should be my enemy.
“No,” he counters, a grin spreading across his face, defiant as always. “I’m on top tonight. You left me hanging last time. You owe me.”
I laugh, low and breathless, as I sit on him, feeling his cock press perfectly against me. I straighten up, taking in the sight of him sprawled beneath me, eyes dark and full of challenge.
His lips glisten, slick with the taste of us, and his hair’s already a wild mess from the fall. Red streaks of blood trail down his neck, scratches I left behind. His tattoos stretch across his chest like ink on canvas, while the moonlight catches the scars that crisscross his skin.
He’s beautiful. I’d never say it out loud, but he really, really is.
“I don’t owe you a damn thing, Cagney.”
To prove my point, I grind my hips against him slowly, deliberately. I know I should be faster about it, but this moment—this small, private victory—is mine. It’s all about showing him who’s in control. I press down harder, parting my lips as the pleasure hums through my veins.
His eyes… glazed and half-lidded, lock onto me like he’s in some trance. That’s how I know—I’ve got him. Zayan Cagney might be one of the most feared pirates around, but here, now, he’s mine. He won’t push me away.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Gypsy,” he breathes. “Like you’re not real.”
And I believe him. Zayan Cagney is a beast of a man, sure. But I’m no slouch either. Strong, all muscle with curves that make men lose their wits. They say my eyes can pull a man in, and my sharp tongue leaves them defenseless.
I’m not short on admirers. But let’s be real, not everyone can handle me. Zayan barely can.
