His eyes harden, but he doesn’t reply. I place a hand on his chest, over his heart. It’s racing under my palm.
He grips my wrist and pulls my hand away. “No touching.”
I blink. I feel as if I’ve stepped into the twilight zone. “What?”
“You won’t touch me.” He leans closer, bringing that impressive erection closer, and my mouth waters. I want to lick it, taste the tiny bead of moisture shimmering on the crown. “But I will touch you everywhere.”
I frown. Is this a game? I’ve touched him before. Hell, I’ve hugged him, and he didn’t complain. So what’s this about?
“Say yes,” he whispers.
“Yes,” I say, because I can’t help it. I can’t stand the thought of not doing it, of not feeling him inside me. Of him leaving. “Yes.”
His eyes close, and he lets out a long breath. A small vein in his jaw ticks rapidly. I wonder for a moment if he thought I’d refuse, if he really doesn’t want to go through with this. If he regrets this already and would rather go—but then he pulls the open condom foil from this pocket and kneels between my legs to pull it on.
Giving me more time to study him—the way his abs contract and ripple as he rolls the condom on his rock-hard erection, over the metal balls of his piercings, the way his beautiful mouth purses in concentration, the way the muscles shift in his strong arms, making his tattoos move and dance. His long lashes cast shadows on his broad cheekbones. With his tall blue crest of hair, he looks dangerous and beautiful, like a fairytale warrior.
Then he straightens and strokes his thumb down my center, making me shiver and shake. “You’re smoking hot,” he breathes, guiding the tip of his hard cock between my folds. With his other hand, he grabs my leg and wraps it around his back as he pushes into me. “Oh fuck.”
A moan rises in my throat as he opens me up, stretches and fills me up like no one else has ever done before. It’s pain and pleasure, the piercings stroking the deepest part of me, and I need to move. I reach for him, to wrap my arms around him, push our bodies flush together.
But he grips my hands and presses them into the backrest as he slides the last inches in. His lips are so close I feel his breath on my mouth, but when I lift my head to kiss him, he turns his face away and snaps his hips.
Pleasure slams into me, the sting of the rejection washed away in burning need. I rock my hips against him, the slide of his hard cock inside me taking my breath away.
A dark grin lifts a side of his mouth, and he thrusts into me again and again. Shadows flash through his uptilted eyes as he moves in and out of me, his hands pushing mine against the leather, holding me in place.
But I need more of him, so I lift my other leg, curling it around his thigh, drawing him deeper.
His movements falter. He groans deep in his throat, his lips parting, and his cock swells bigger inside me.
“Oh fuck,” he gasps and pulls out only to slam back, as deep as possible. He bends his head, his teeth grazing my neck. “Christ, Dakota. Oh shit…”
His breathless moans and curses are so sexy I clench around him, another orgasm starting in my core. I can feel it roll through me. It’s like an explosion in slow motion, blasting through me in soft, then harder waves, making me wrap my legs around him tighter and hold on for the ride. The waves come faster now, cresting, crashing, making my whole body tremble, and I cry out, lost.
I can’t remember sex ever being so good. I moan softly, my mind blown away, my body still quivering with pleasure.
He’s still rock hard inside me, and his eyes gleam, half-closed. He’s panting as harshly as I am, and his arms shake. I can feel the tremor in his hands holding mine against the leather.
“What do you need?” I whisper as he rolls his hips, my voice breaking on another sharp wave of pleasure. “Zane…”
With a grunt, he releases my hands and grabs the backrest so tightly muscles stand out in his arms and chest, and tendons strain in his neck. He draws out, then slams back into me, again, and again. Faster and faster, building up pressure inside me again. Too much. I can’t… He nuzzles my neck, sucks on it, and his chest rubs on my breasts.
Oh shit, this can’t be… I’m going to come again.
The pleasure burns through me, rips me apart. I scream as I break into a million pieces, and this time he breaks with me.
Chapter Seven
Zane
The pleasure ripping through me is off the fucking charts. My world goes white, the only sound the blood rushing in my ears, and she tightens and ripples around my dick, milking it. A shout catches in my throat. A strangled sound I don’t recognize leaves my lips as I come—and for the first time, someone sees me. Dakota looks right at me as I lose all control.
My cock jerks and twitches for what feels like ages, caught in her red-hot heat. My breath hisses out, catching and restarting. Good, so fucking good, so much better than the momentary blanking out I get when I hook up with girls. I curse as another spasm goes through me. It feels as if I have fire in my veins, every part of me burning for her. Burning for more.
Her eyes are wide as I flex my hips again, drawing out the last aftershocks, the last drops of pleasure. Her legs tighten around me, holding me in place, and it’s so good. I allow myself to relax a fraction, enjoy this moment.
And it happens, as I feared. She reaches up, winds her arms around my back, her fingers splaying over the burn scars—and I lose it.
I completely lose my shit. Mindless terror grips me, stealing my breath, freezing my heart in my chest.
Oh shit, no.
“Shit,” I choke out and push her off. I stagger backward, pulling out of her in the process. “Told you not to fucking touch me. Told you… oh fuck.”
Darkness rolls over my eyes, blanking everything for a long moment. Fear engulfs me, dragging me down.
No, no, no.
There are hands on me, on my chest, on my back. Searing pain tears me apart. She calls my name, reaching for me, but I stumble back, plowing into the coffee table, upturning it. Vases and ashtrays crash to the floor, and the sound is distant.
Desperately, I pull my pants back up. I need to cover up, protect myself. My sight returns, but it’s distorted and blurry. The walls bend inward, turning gray. Bending over, I rub my eyes to clear them, but nothing happens.
My back hurts. Everything hurts, and fear is crushing my chest. It feels as if my ribs will break from the pressure. Taunting voices whisper in my ear.
‘You can take it, boy. You’re good at this.’
My eyes burn. My heart is slamming against my ribs. Where am I? What’s happening? I need to get out. I grab the next thing I find and hurl it through the suffocating fog. “Leave me alone!”