His gaze darkens, and suddenly, I’m no longer thinking about the words, the argument, the reason I wanted to keep away. All I can think about is him. What he wants. What we both want.
“I should have made you listen,” he murmurs, his voice dropping, almost a growl. “But you made it hard.”
Before I can respond, his lips are on mine, the kiss crashing into me like a wave, fierce and urgent, full of raw, unspoken emotion. His mouth is hot, demanding, like he’s trying to take something from me that he doesn’t even want togive back. It’s not just about jealousy. It’s about everything we’ve been holding back—the things we’ve both tried to ignore.
I try to pull away, to stop it, but I can’t. The kiss is too much. His hands are on my body, sliding up the curves of my waist, pulling me tighter against him. There’s no room to think, no space to question. My body betrays me, responding to him with a hunger I didn’t know I had.
It’s not a beginning. It’s a breaking point.
The kiss, the heat, the anger—everything is mixing together until there’s nothing left but him, pressing into me, demanding me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. And when I finally pull away, gasping for air, his grip doesn’t loosen. He holds me, his lips brushing against my neck, his breath hot against my skin.
I know this isn’t just about jealousy anymore. It’s about control, about wanting something I can’t have, about everything that’s been left unsaid between us.
And at this moment, with his hands still on me, I don’t know whether I’m willing to fight it or let it consume me.
“I’m not going to stop this time,” he growls into my ear, causing goose bumps to erupt on my skin. His lips crash onto mine again, harder this time, and my body melts into him, my hands moving up to his chest, gripping his shirt. There’s no space left between us. It’s too much. Too overwhelming. And still, I want more.
He pulls away just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with something I don’t understand but feel deeply. “You’ve been playing with fire, Zoe,” he murmurs, his thumb gently grazing my lip. “And now you’ve set it alight.”
I can’t respond. I can’t think. His words are a warning, but they sound more like an invitation. I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next, but I’m afraid that I don’t have a choice.
His hand moves to my chin, tilting my head back slightly. His gaze is intense, burning into me as if he’s trying to make sure I understand, make sure I know exactly what I’m getting into.
His fingers wrap around my neck, enough to warn me, but not enough to scare me.
“You’ll do as I say,” he says. “Understood?”
I have half a mind to defy him, but I’m too selfish to deny myself pleasure so I nod. “Yes.”
“Fuck.” He narrows his eyes. “Get on your knees.”
Without hesitation, I sink to my knees. He lets me go and his hands work on his buckle, pushing down his pants and freeing his cock. He jerks himself off, his mouth falling open as he stares down at me. This should be degrading, humiliating, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Open your mouth.”
My mouth falls open, my lips parting desperately to take him in.
“Wider,” he commands. “Wider, sweetheart.”
I obey, widening my mouth until it aches. He stuffs his erection into my mouth, wrapping my hair around his fist and forcing himself deeper until I gag. I grip his thigh, enjoying the velvety feel of his organ in my mouth. I suck the tip, running my tongue across the head, tasting his precum.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, that feels good. Good girl.”
His praise goes straight into my brain, and I put all my efforts into giving him pleasure. His legs shake as I suck him deeper without gagging. His fist tightens around my hair sohard, it stings, but I don’t stop. I feel empowered, and I want to remain here, on my knees, serving him, like a good little girl.
He suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me up unceremoniously. I suck in a breath, and he swallows it in a kiss that melts the rest of my resolve. He pushes me onto the couch and lays above me, pushing my dress above my legs, his eyes burning into mine. His gaze darkens when he touches my butt.
“You’re not wearing any panties,” he notes, voice burning. “You came into my club and kissed a guy without wearing panties.”
“I am—”
“Shut up.” He rubs the pads of his thumb against my clit, and I writhe with pleasure.
“What was your plan? To go home with him?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I would have never let that happen,” he snaps. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
