55
Gianna (22 years)
“Never.” I hissed. My plan to teach Zayne a lesson had backfired. I was strong but he was stronger. I was determined but he was resolute. I should’ve known better than to challenge him.
Zayne took what he wanted and right now he was making me go weak in the knees like he’d done on so many occasions before and that’s not what I wanted or what I needed. I needed him to feel pain. Instead, he had me in a grip I couldn’t get out of. “You have no fucking right to touch me,” I hissed, my hips flexing of their own accord to match his pumping rhythm. My mind and mouth might be fighting him, but my fucking pussy ignored the damn text message.
His chuckle was low, arrogant. Then he pulled out of my pussy and grabbed my hair. Still keeping my hands pinned at my back, he angled my head, forcing my eyes to meet his. His expression, a fusion of mirth and blatant arousal. I might’ve wanted to fuck with his mind but that look alone told me he planned to fuck me every way he could.
“Let me remind you, that you’re my fucking wife, baby girl.” His grip tightened on my hair and I bit down on the wince. “You came back to me. Which means either you love me or my cock.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I scoffed.
“I don’t. Now spread your fucking legs, your pussy, and I have a fuck date.” He released my hands and my palms fell to the tiled wall, the cool a welcome contrast to my heated skin. I heard the swoosh of his zipper sliding down and braced for the hard shove of his cock. Instead, he rolled the thick length along my pussy lips from front to back. And like a wicked taunt, every inch of my body pricked to attention, alive and unchecked. He bit my shoulder and I cried out.
He swung me around and I squirmed. Grabbing my ass, he lifted me against him and pressed my back into the wall. Crashing his lips to mine, ravishing me like a starved animal and I unashamedly responded, kissing him back just as hard, our tongues dueling for dominance. But once again, where I was powerful, Zayne was all-consuming, and tongue, teeth, and lips swayed every breath I took.
“Wrap your legs around me, Ria,” he demanded against my lips. And I did.
Keeping one hand on my ass, he cupped my breast with the other, pinching my nipple between his fingers, the pressure changing with each roll and I moaned when he tweaked harder. He dragged his lips down the side of my neck, sucking hard until I groaned. He was fucking marking me. He dropped lower, sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting down. I cried out.
Leaning back, his glazed eyes reflected the dark arousal in mine. “Fuck, Ria I can’t be gentle, right now,” he warned, breathing hard, his lips skimming over my jaw, nipping with his teeth and licking with his tongue.
“I want it,” I hissed.
“I’ll hurt you,” he gritted, trying to control his need but I wanted him to lose control because when Zayne lost control, he fucked like a man born for dominating pussy, hard cock, deep thrusts, and perfect rhythm.
“I want it, Zayne, now. Fuck me!” I pushed the jacket off his shoulders and ripped his shirt down the front, buttons popped off, hitting the floor in soft pings. Shoving his shirt off, I gripped his shoulders. It was sheer torture, the way my body ignited. The way every muscle ached, my insides pulling taut as arousal slicked my thighs.
Then he dropped my legs, and I blinked my confusion.
“On your knees.”
“That’s not what I want,” I hissed, my control slipping.
He lifted a brow, arrogance swimming in those light browns. “It’s what I want, baby girl. Now, drop to your fucking knees and suck my cock if you want me to fuck you.” Glaring at him, I lowered to my knees. “Make me come and I’ll leave you hanging.”
“Really?” I gritted.
“You heard me.” That smirk for days, he slid both hands into my hair. “Suck my cock but if you make me lose control, I won’t give you what you want.” Before I could sufficiently react, his hands fisted my hair and he thrust his cock into my mouth, forcing it all the way back to my throat, causing me to gag until my lungs begged for air. “Beautiful.” My eyes lifted to meet his as I tried to swallow but he pulled out and shoved back in so hard and fast, I couldn’t catch a breath. My spit thickening in my mouth, the perfect lubricant for his thick girth and he took full advantage. Forcing my head back against the wall, his grip tightened on my hair as he held me in place. “Don’t move, baby girl,” he ordered.
Then he began fucking my mouth. Pushing in and pulling out and setting the pace. I didn’t move, consumed by the taste of him, mesmerized by the picture of him with his head thrown back, his lips parted slightly, his face pure ecstasy, low guttural groans vibrating through my body and it made be wet that I did that to him. Unable to resist, I lapped my tongue around his length, and he bucked.
“Fuck, Ria, you do that, and I’ll come,” he growled, glaring down at me.
Cheeky, I arched a brow. And on the next shove of his cock, I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked harder, twirling my tongue around his cock, each time he pulled out.
“Fuck,” he cursed, released my hair, and with his palms flat against the wall above my head, he fucked my mouth, harder and faster, my gag reflex unable to keep up, his groans growing in tempo. Just when I felt his cock pulse, he jerked out of my mouth. “Jesus.” He was breathing hard as he grabbed my arms and pulled me up. His eyes on me, he hooked his arms under my thighs, lifted me, and stretched me wide open, his cock nudging my entrance. “Can I fuck you bare, baby girl?” I nodded. “Good. You were my last.” He winked, his words stunning me. “Now ease my cock into that hot wet cunt, I want to fuck you like I’ve been on a fucking pussy diet and greedy for cum, yours and mine.” His fingers on my thighs tightening their grip to keep me stretched.
I reached down between us and eased his cock into me. My groan was low, his louder. I guided him up to the head. And then he thrust forward, sinking deep inside me in a hard slam, my back hitting the wall with the impact.
“Oh, God, Zayne.” I cried out, clamping around his thick, pulsating girth.
He pulled out and slammed in as if in punishment, my back hit the wall again. I shook, my nails sinking into his shoulders, rigid with exertion. “You feel so fucking good, Ria.” He buried his face between my neck and shoulder, and my arms tightened around his neck. “You’re mine, baby girl,” He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine, the promise in there unmistakable and unbreakable. “Always was and always will be.”
“Yes,” I didn’t think, just whispered, because deep down, I knew that while I might fight him, while I might not trust him, he was right. I was his. Always was and always will be. And as if read my silent thoughts, he sealed his promise with a kiss that burrowed deep into my soul, leaving it so fragmented, only he would bring the pieces back together. Whether I admitted it or not, I wanted him to. Our tongues, a silent tango of promises, his thrusts grew fiercer, harder, more desperate as he pounded into me. His hips flexing vigorously. Our breaths fusing, our moans flowing into each other in perfect harmony.
