His voice is a teasing whisper, and I shudder, each second building on the last until there isn’t a nerve in my body free from overwhelm. Confused, languid, excited. A tangled mess of everything I’ve ever experienced, washing over me all at once.
“I want you to…” but the words don’t miraculously appear. The melting sensation in my muscles and the growing wetness between my legs doesn’t translate into coherent syllables.
“Always making things hard for me, aren’t you?” Zane teases, not stressing the relevant word but arching his hips to let me feel it, a far more delicious emphasis than anything his voice could manage. “Never just coming out with what you want. Always forcing me to search for ways to make things better.”
The tip of his tongue touches against my earlobe, a gentle probe that ignites a fire in my chest, back arching, head tilting, waiting for him to suck it into his mouth… waiting… waiting…
Until I can’t stand it any longer and I take his wrist, guiding him under my kilt, forcing his hand between my legs and uttering a shocked inhalation at his touch, at the coldness of his fingers compared to the growing heat between my thighs. My muscles clamp around him as I move my hips, rubbing him against me at the same time, thoughtlessly seeking the relief of friction.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, then chuckles, his other hand reaching around to grab my breast, moulding it in his hand, rough, demanding, only releasing to pinch my nipple between his fingers and send a jolt of frantic lust straight to my core. “Put me where you need me. Be greedy. Don’t ask. Don’t bother to say please.”
“More,” I gasp, not needing a second instruction, crying out when he withdraws his hand, leaving my thighs squeezing emptiness.
He unzips my kilt, tugging it down until it puddles on the floor, and I can step out of it. Then he’s back, thrusting into my underwear in one brutal motion, covering my entire pussy with his hand, the excess spreading my thighs wider, a wordless command I instinctively obey.
“Is this what you were after?”
His thick middle finger curls as he drags it along my pussy, parting me, rubbing the rough pad against the slickness of my inner flesh, jolting a thousand nerve endings into life. Over and over, tracing the same path until my eyelids flutter and I feel boneless.
And when my body sags, the glorious pressure is withdrawn as he swivels me around, hands gripping my waist to lift me, setting me on the workbench like I weigh nothing at all.
I gasp again when his large hands slide up my legs, cupping my kneecaps, then pushing them apart, positioning himself in between. His fingers reach further, cradling underneath my legs as he drags me to the very edge, until my core is flat against him. Pressed so hard I can feel the pulse from his cock.
One hand cradles my skull, pulling until my forehead rests against his shoulder. His knuckles clench, the short strands of my hair caught between them, tugging.
His big hand runs up my thigh, finding the curve of my waist, moving higher, playing along my rib cage until it rests, fingers splayed across my back, thumb teasing at my nipple and my whimper is lost under the harsher sound of his groan. “I know I hurt you, I know I terrified you, but I can’t stop wanting you.”
My skin buzzes with so much heat it stings where it presses against him. Like he’s the sun, burning me red but so good I can’t move away from the intensity of his rays.
“So, this is my exchange. You let me touch you. Let me take what I need from you. And in return, I’ll give you something no one else in the world has.” His finger curls into the sensitive spot under my ear, making my jaw tense. Making my eyes water as the nerves fire. “Something I know you’ll appreciate even if you hate every minute of what it costs you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AVON
Zane pulls awayfrom me a little and I stare into his eyes, losing myself in them. I want to tell him I won’t hate it—I don’tthinkI’ll hate it—but the words stick in my throat, caught by embarrassment at my body’s eager response.
And it’s like he knows as his hand returns from the journey it just took, sliding down to grip my upper thigh, his thumb now teasing at my cotton underwear, rubbing until the fabric dampens and another small cry escapes my throat.
“It’s okay.” His reassurance is more breath than voice. “This isn’t the real world. This space can be just for us.”
And that fantasy wipes my shame clean. Gives me a free pass to feel how I feel and want what I want despite our shared past.
I nod, unable to talk, and the moment he sees the gesture, he drops to his knees, thudding to the floor, spreading my legs wider while his fingers find the elastic band of my underwear and tug them, ducking under so his head is trapped between the apex of my legs and the taut fabric now stretching between my thighs.
His hands cup my arse, moving me forward and I grip the edge of the bench, so I don’t fall, then clench harder as I feel the first soft stroke of his tongue against me, teasing along my lips, then tracing the same path again, this time forcing itself between them, lapping at my inner flesh until I’m shaking.
The sensation is a thousand times removed from anything I’ve felt before. My fumbling fingers are nowhere close, the few cheap toys I’ve tried so different, so mechanical, they’re in a different realm.
He pulls back a little and an indignant moan squeezes from my throat, making him chuckle. The vibrations of his laugh against my most sensitive skin make my brain hum, then it turns to a gasp as his teeth lightly nip at my inner thigh, the hint of pain bringing the pleasure into cleaner focus.
“You’re making it really hard to concentrate on the painting,” I murmur, coercing him into another laugh, another explosion of pleasurable tingles across my soft skin.
“I promise you’ll have all night if you want it.”
The soft puffs of his words are too much of a tease and I release the bench from my death grip, twisting my fingers deep into his hair instead, urging him back to where I need to feel him. Need to feel the rough and smooth licks of his tongue.
Memories try to chip at my focus, but I shove them away, keeping my eyes on Zane as his face tilts up to watch me, slowly licking his lips, savouring the taste of me, his chin glistening before it disappears, before he buries his face in my pussy.
