“See,” he says in a whisper so low it’s just a vibration against my skin. “You want them to look, don’t you?” He lets go of my face and suddenly his fingers are skirting up the inside of my thigh. Cold jeans. Warm hands. When he touches my entrance through my thin, thin, thin panties, I moan deep in my throat.
Then he slips a finger underneath, gently parting my lips and stroking with the smallest of movements.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs against my lips before claiming my mouth like a man falling upon a puddle in the desert. “I want to take a photograph of you just like this. Writhing on the bed, opening for me. Wanting to take my thick cock inside you.”
A shiver starts somewhere in my back and spreads out until I’m convulsing underneath him.
“Do you have condoms?”
The question knocks me to my senses, and I pull away from him, jerking my wrists free of his easy bondage, every inch of my body shrieking in protest at the sudden loss of his touch.
“N-no I—”
“You’re not on the pill?”
I curl my legs to my chest, shivering where the cold air hits me now the covers have fallen… where? Somewhere. In a tangle at the foot of the bed.
“We’re not—”
Zach pushes one hand over my mouth, cupping the back of my head with the other. Holding me in place. Unable to talk. Unable to protest.
“We both know that we are. Nod if you’re on birth control.”
I stare at him with wide eyes, my nostrils snuffling against the side of his hand. After a tense minute, he relaxes the pressure on his hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t force you. Are you on the pill?”
The mention of force has the opposite effect to the one he intended. Suddenly, every muscle in my body is on high alert, tensing against him.
He feels it, pulls his hand away, and pulls me into a hug instead. The change in position leaves his mouth near my ear, and he whispers, “I know you want this.”
Then he lets go, getting out to stand beside the bed, while I curl into a ball, wriggling to the farthest corner. I hug my pillow to me as the world’s flimsiest shield.
He’s right. That’s the worst of it. The moment I push him away, all I want is to pull him back against me.
Zach unties his sneakers, then nudges them off with his feet, unbuckling his belt and pulling off his jeans in one smooth motion so I blink and he’s half naked. The shirt comes over his head next, leaving him in socks and underwear.
The transition should scare me more, but it’s oddly comforting to be the one with more clothes on.
“Come here,” he orders, grabbing my ankle and dragging me from my foetal position until I’m sprawled diagonally across the bed, still clutching the pillow. “What’s this gonna do? Defend your honour?”
I giggle as he pulls it away, then straddles me, staring with open admiration. No one’s ever looked at me like that and it makes my heart sing and my throat constrict. Like I’m precious. Special.
Wanted.
“Can I take your shirt off?” he asks and the transition from commanding to requesting sets off another chain reaction of desire.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He tugs at the hem before pushing the fabric upward, slowly, revealing me inch by inch. At each new exposure, he lays a flurry of kisses on my skin, occasionally letting his tongue loose to explore me, too. My bones melt into rubber, so pliable he could mould me into any shape he wants.
When he finally drags the cotton tee away from my breasts, releasing my nipples into the cold air, I gasp and reach for him, curling my fingers into his hair and tugging him where I want him to go. The soft warmth of his mouth envelops the bud on my right side, lapping and curling around it, gently tugging, first with his suction, then with his teeth, until my back arches, desperate for more.
He changes sides and I don’t know if that’s because I pulled him there or if he initiated the move. While he sucks at one, he palms my other breast, alternating between smothering it with his large hand and tugging at the nipple with his fingertips.
After releasing my tit with an audible pop, he says, “I’m hesitant to ask you again, but birth control?”
“I’m on the shot.”
“Good.” He pushes my t-shirt over my head and holds me against his chest with one arm while he untangles the fabric from my hair and throws it on the floor. The sensation of skin against skin is overwhelming and I cling to him like a life preserver in the vast ocean. “Because I need to feel you. Feel all of you.”
His mouth covers mine again, tongue intruding and conquering me while my brain fizzes with pleasure. The tug at my hair as he fists it to control my position unleashes a thousand sparks and I slide my hands down his back, exploring the hard muscles of his shoulders before delving farther, feeling the hard angles of his hips before clutching handfuls of his arse and pulling him against me.
