“You’re killing me, angry girl,” he groans into my ear. “I wanna fuck you so hard. I wanna feel you coming all over my dick.” He slips his fingers forward, purposefully skating around my clit, just deviating close enough to make my body vibrate with expectation. He stops all too soon, but then replaces his hand with his cock, rubbing back and forth between my legs.
I’m desperate, desperate to push back and let him thrust himself into my pussy, but I know he’ll disapprove. Plus there’s his stomach injury; it’s surprising he can even do this right now.
I shouldn’t be condoning it. I should not be—
My mind goes utterly blank as Zeth rocks back and then pushes forward again, finally teasing his fingers over my clit with such precision that I almost jump a foot in the air at the momentary intense burst of feeling that rockets around my body.
A sharp sting of pain cuts through the pleasure and I trace the source back to my sore shoulder—Zeth’s biting me there, not holding back. The pain of it is dizzying, but it’s also awakening. I can feel every square inch of him, feel the energy snapping between our bodies. He hooks a hand around my waist from behind and I suddenly realize I’m very vulnerable. He’s so much bigger than I am; he lifts me with one arm and makes light work of carrying me back to the bed I slept in. The sheets are at the bottom of the bed, still exactly where I kicked them off before I got into the shower. Zeth sets me down, and he rips the sheets off the mattress, throwing them to the floor.
He sits on the edge of the bed, then, facing me. With the faint, silver moonlight shining in through the skylight above us, I can just about see the devious smile on his face. “Where do you think we go from here?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I have a pretty good idea.”
“Why don’t you show me your pretty good idea, Sloane?”
Much like telling me to select something from his bag back at Julio’s place, I’m sure this is an experiment on his part. Of course, this is the game. He wants to see if I’ve figured him out yet. He wants to know if I can guess at his dark little fantasies. I don’t know for certain, but I can probably make an educated guess. With my hands tied behind my back, I’m kind of limited, but I still have a few options left open to me.
Zeth’s eyes follow me, shining brightly in the dark as I drop to my knees. He doesn’t tell me if I’m right or wrong. He simply reaches out and carefully strokes my hair. His cock is rigid, the tip of it brushing his belly as he sits there, breathing softly. I shuffle close to him, and I carefully lick from the base of his erection all the way up, shivering a little as his hand stops stroking my hair and he gathers a handful in his fist. Hair pulling’s not something I thought I would be into, but this isn’t just hair pulling. This is Zeth commanding more of me. This is him asserting himself over me, setting out the ground rules. I am his, and I am to behave. If I don’t, there will be consequences. Despite the part of me that just said no woman should ever allow a man complete power over her, Zeth’s authority over me doesn’t feel like he’s conquering me. He’s not dominating me. It feels as though he’s throwing down an ultimatum—this is who I am and what I need from you for this to work—that I can either accept or walk away from, and my decision is one hundred percent my choice. That doesn’t mean that he holds a violent power over me. Neither does me accepting his ultimatum mean that he’s won anything, or if it does then it simply means he has won my trust.
I look up at him, and our eyes lock. He’s waiting on me, and the pressure—a pressure that would have terrified me before meeting him—only makes me want to make him wait a little longer. I don’t, though. I take him into my mouth, moving slowly. I don’t close my eyes; I keep them fixed on him as I slide up and down, tracing my tongue over his cock, sucking gently. Zeth’s hand tightens in my hair, pulling a little harder. He angles his hips upward slightly, though I can tell the shift hurts his stomach. I push down, taking him deeper, and my throat spasms as the tip hits the back of it. It’s not a pleasant sensation, but Zeth’s reaction makes it pleasurable.
“Fuck. God, Sloane. Your mouth...” Your mouth is fucking perfect. Those are the words he said to me back at the hotel when we first met. Words that turned me on even before I knew the man who had given them to me. Words that have stuck with me ever since. I speed up, fired on by the tension I can feel building in his leg muscles, which are pressed against either side of me.
I love doing this. I love feeling his cock growing harder in my mouth. Pippa once told me that going down on a guy is something she only ever does if she feels she has to, but holy fuck if I don’t absolutely love going down on Zeth. The taste of him alone is enough to drive me crazy.
His legs have begun to shake by the time I decide I want more. I push upward, and Zeth lets go of my hair immediately, lifting his hands. His chest is rising and falling much quicker now, though it seems as though he’s trying to hide it. I get to my feet, and he tips his head to one side.