I curl my forefinger, lifting her chin even further until I’m staring straight into her wide eyes. Her back stiffens, making her taller, and my gaze drops, watching the rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing grows heavier.
This feels like a dream… or a trick.
But I’ve given her the ammunition she needs to destroy me. I trust she won’t and that means I have to take her at her word.
Her eyes glisten, nostrils pinching tighter as they draw down. Her lips part with a tiny pop of sound before she runs her tongue over them, then scrapes her teeth over the bottom one, pressing hard enough colour rushes in to fill the indentations when she stops.
As the seconds pass, her body eases towards mine. She gasps, then slowly exhales before hitching in another gulp of air.
I lean towards her, crowding into her space, making her head tip back at an even more extreme angle.
And finally she whispers, “I shouldn’t be in here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ZANE
As Avon stares at me,a tear gathers on her bottom lid, barely noticeable at first, then swelling, fattening until it bulges over her lashes, the surface tension holding it in place, holding it, holding… until it falls, skidding down her cheek, following the curvature to her jaw and trickling down, another feeding it, then another, the droplet enlarging until gravity grabs it from its mooring and it falls onto the collar of her shirt, spreading out across the white fabric in a barely visible stain.
Her chest hitches, and she sobs the breath out, more tears spilling from her eyes, two, three at a time.
Warmth fills me, lighting every inch of my darkness. A knot twists in my sternum, like a cord binds us together. Me and this girl who is utter perfection.
No, not this girl.
My girl.
“You can go,” I say in a voice that’s more breath than sound. “But not until you accept your punishment.”
Another cascade of tears fall and I want to see them land somewhere other than the white shirt where they’re wasted.
My fingers curl around her throat, holding her, searching her face for another clue, checking the way I should always have checked.
She smiles and I squeeze, not to cut off her air but to hold her steady, to control her. A second to get used to the change in position, then I walk her backwards to the bench, letting her arse hit against it before I press my crotch against her, grinding until I know she can feel the outline of my rock-hard cock.
I bend to suck her earlobe into my mouth, tonguing it until she squirms, then releasing it to whisper, “Lift your skirt.”
Her fingers find the hem, eyes still locked to mine, tears still streaming.
“Higher.”
It rolls up another inch.
“Higher.”
She pulls it most of the way to her hips.
“Now ease down your panties. Slowly,” I snap when she tugs them. “Just a few inches. Nice and slow.”
Her chest rises and falls more rapidly with each passing second. I love watching her breasts strain against the fabric. Love seeing her nipples harden until they poke it out of shape.
I could spend an hour just watching her like this; hungry for me. Obedient for me. Crying for me.
But my cock thuds, so full with blood it makes me half crazy. Like if I can’t plant it deep inside her, it might get harder and harder until it explodes.
“That’s enough.”
My free hand moves down to cup her pussy, the heel of my palm rubbing hard, right above her clit, and her hips buck towards me. I curl my middle finger, parting her, my eyes closingin ecstasy as I feel how wet she is for me already. There’s barely friction as I push into her, gliding past her entrance with ease.
