He sighs heavily, letting his head tip back so that he’s staring up at the ceiling. “Goddammit. I told you I’m not good company tonight. I’m sorry.” Zach lowers his head and fixes his eyes on mine. “I want nothing more than to do exactly what we planned on doing tonight, Princess.”
That ache of rejection eases, just the slightest, and I suck in a deep breath before letting out in a heavy exhale. “Okay…?”
Zach pulls his bottom lip through his teeth as he stares at me from across the kitchen. His words are quiet when he finally speaks into the darkness. “Tonight… tonight isn’t a good idea. I don’t think I can be gentle with you, Louise.”
Oh.
Oh.
Dropping my arms to my sides, I take a step toward him, then another. Until I’m standing directly in front of him. Raising my hands, I place my palms flat on his chest. His heart is hammering beneath my right palm, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
Tilting my head back, I meet his gaze.
“Good,” I whisper. “Don’t be gentle with me, Zach. Ruin me.”
Zach squeezes his eyes shut, a growl rumbling out of his chest beneath my palms. Sliding one palm up over his chest and around to the back of his neck, I wait for him to open his eyes again.
When he does, he simply stares at me for a long moment, those blue eyes flicking between mine. Heat and lust and a touch of anger still circling in those depths.
And then his mouth crashes down on mine, his hands sliding around my back and down to cup my ass in both palms. He squeezes handfuls as he kisses me, leaving me breathless. With his hands still gripping my ass, he lifts me, hauling my body up and into his arms like I weigh nothing. Zach wraps my legs around his waist, and I circle my arms around his neck, our mouths never breaking as he strides out of the kitchen.
Down the darkened hall, he shoves the bedroom door open, sending it bouncing off the wall as he stalks us toward the massive bed against the far wall. One hand leaves my backside, returning with a sharp crack against the fleshy part of my ass. I gasp and moan at the same time, my breath mingling with his before he steals my mouth for another voracious kiss.
“I’ve thought about this for weeks, Louise,” he breathes against my mouth, breaking the kiss but not removing his lips from mine. “I can’t be gentle with you tonight, Princess. Tell me you understand. Tell me it’s okay for me to fucking wreck you.”
Nodding my head frantically, I whisper, “God yes, it’s okay, Zach—”
Releasing the hold he has beneath my ass, he lowers me to my feet beside the bed and takes a step away from me.
I reach for him, worried he’s going to tell me to leave again, when he husks, “Strip, Louise. Now. Show me what’s mine to ruin.”
Gripping the bottom edge of the t-shirt with shaking fingers, I don’t even hesitate to pull it up and over my head, dropping it to the floor. I’m braless, and my unrestrained breasts perk against the slight chill in the air, nipples pebbling rapidly.
“Fucking Christ you’re so pretty,” he breathes, those blue eyes roving over every inch of me, sending butterflies twisting in my belly. “More. Take everything off. I’m done waiting.”
Shoving the leggings down over my hips, I bend at the waist and kick them off before sending my panties the same direction. I straighten, my hands clasping into loose fists at my sides to keep myself from covering my body from the man standing in front of me. He hasn’t moved, but his gaze travels over me, to my toes and back up, so slowly.
I shiver as his eyes meet mine again.
“Such a good girl, doing as you’re told.” I swallow hard at his words. “It’s not going to save you from the spanking coming your way.”
My lips tip up at the corners, and his eyes narrow on my face.
“Such a fucking brat,” he breathes, shaking his head slowly. “Undress me.”
Unable to restrain the smirk that tugs at my lips, I step forward, my fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt. Sliding my hands, palms flat, beneath the material, I slide them up slowly, bringing the shirt with them. Until my fingers reach his pecs, and I grip the material then and shove it up and over his head, letting it drop to the floor to land next to mine.
Leaning forward, I move to press my mouth to the center of his chest like I’ve fantasized about a million times.
His fingers wrap around my throat, halting me, and I whine pathetically. Tipping my head back by tightening his grip beneath my chin, he growls, “Did I tell you that you could touch?”
“Please?” I whisper, dragging my fingertips along the expanse of skin stretched taut over his ribs. Feather light. He shivers in response, but tightens his fingers around my neck, shaking his head.
“I gave you a direction. Undress me, Louise. You’re not done yet.”
Commands such as this, coming from any other man, would have me rolling my eyes and telling him to fuck off straight to hell.
Coming from Zach? In that low rasp and his eyes doing that thing where I swear to God he’s looking straight into my soul?
