I dragged my tongue along the throbbing vein that ran along the underside of his cock and was rewarded with a deep groan. He was salty and, like all of him, somehow woodsy and earthy. When I reached the plump head he was already leaking out his pleasure and I swirled my tongue around it with a delicate twist. His hands got harder in my hair and pulled me farther down his impressive length. I complied with his silent command and wrapped my fist around the base of the straining erection. His hips shifted on the bed and I heard his breathing turn ragged as I sucked and pulled him farther and farther into my mouth.
He muttered my name and I couldn’t recall ever hearing anything sound as sweet. The feeling of being in control of such a big man, of owning the things that were happening to him, the knowledge that I was the one in charge of his pleasure, was turning me on all over again. I wanted him and the fact that he wanted me just as badly, the fact that I could feel it and taste it, burst across my tongue and did more to defrost the parts deep down inside of me that I thought would never warm up.
I was using my hand in tandem with my mouth to wring him out and string him taut. His breathing was loud in the quiet of the room and every part of him I was touching was marble hard and tense to the point of shattering. He was holding on to my head and guiding me farther and faster down his length when he suddenly swore and yanked me off of him. I squealed in a very unsexy way as he picked me up and tossed me into the center of the bed and crawled up and over me. He kept himself propped up with one arm while he scrambled for his wallet with the other.
“I want inside, Sayer. That’s where I belong.”
I couldn’t argue with this because I was starting to think he was right. Plus I was all achy and empty again and I wanted him to fill me back up. I curled my hands around his back and flattened my palms against the wide plank of muscle that flexed under my touch.
“Whatever you want, Zeb.”
Those dark green eyes shone at me as he positioned himself at my entrance and slowly made his way inside the welcoming stretch of my body. We both let out a whispered sigh and his mouth fell over mine.
“Everything, Say. I want everything.”
I didn’t have anything to give, let alone everything, but I wasn’t inclined to try to stop him from trying to take it. I kissed him quiet so he couldn’t speak anymore and arched up into him as he started to move over me. I felt like he was doing the same thing to my body that he had done to my house, changing things, rearranging them, making it his own, and creating a space inside that only he could fill.
He was everywhere. His mouth on mine, his breath in my lungs, his chest rubbing tantalizingly across my nipples, his hips hammering into mine, his body making mine move across the bed with the force of his thrusts as his hands skipped over every part of my skin that he could reach.
He wasn’t gentle with me and I loved it. He fucked the way he did everything else in his life. With unrestrained passion. With purpose. With determination. With single-minded focus on his goal . . . in this case, it was obvious his goal was to make me mindless with pleasure. His beard rubbed across my throat and his teeth nipped into my skin.
I whimpered and moved my legs up around his waist when he clutched my thigh with one hand. The new position drove him deeper and pushed us closer together. Every time he pulled out slightly and slammed back in, I felt him rub against my clit in the most delicious way. I refused to just hold on for the ride. There was no way I could just take what he was giving and not be wholly invested in the sensations we were both drowning in. I put one hand back in his tangled hair and the other on my breast and squeezed the pert tip until it hurt in a really pleasurable way.
Zeb grunted as he watched me and I felt his big body tense up above me.
“One of these days I’m just gonna watch you. Nothing has ever been that pretty.” His words were the end for me.
I gasped his name and pulled on his hair. His fingers dug deeper into my thigh and his pace picked up until I felt him jerk and heard him mutter a few broken, filthy words as he found his own release inside my pliant and satisfied body. I fluttered around him and caught him when he collapsed on top of me with a sigh.
His fingers rubbed up along my rib cage and his voice was lazy in my ear as he told me, “I’m so fucking happy you picked option two.”
It made me laugh, which was hard to do with a naked giant pinning me to the bed. I stroked my hand over the stark and violent-looking image of the Norse god he had inked on one entire side of his ribs. I assumed the god was a depiction of the mighty Thor because of the hammer the image was wielding. The tattoo was powerful and huge, just like the man sporting it.
I was going to tell him how wonderful it all was, how happy I was that he had brought the date I’d claimed not to want to me, when my stomach remembered the abandoned dinner in the kitchen and roared loud enough that it made him push up and look down at me in surprise.
I would have been mortified but he was still buried deep inside of me, and when he chuckled at me I felt it everywhere.