Page 20 of Let it Sizzle
"Scared I'm gonna get tired of you? Scared I'm gonna tell you you’re too much? That you have to change to fit beside me?" His voice rumbles with something dangerous and beautiful, the kind of raw emotion that sinks straight into my bones, and before I can even nod, before I can breathe, he crushes his mouth to mine.
It’s not a kiss. He’s staking his fucking claim.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth like he owns it—like he owns me—and when I whimper, when I melt against him, he drags me even tighter against his chest like he can’t stand even a sliver of space between us.
"I hate what that fucker of an ex did to you," he growls against my lips, his hands threading into my hair, holding me there like I’m something precious, something he refuses to let go. "But it’s not just him, is it, baby? It’s everything. It’s the way your old man made you feel like love had to be earned. Like you weren’t born deserving it."
My whole body goes still at his words, my heart splitting wide open. He’s right.
"I hate that too," Levi breathes, fierce and broken all at once. "I hate that you had to fight so fucking hard just to believe you’re worthy of what’s always been yours. I see you, Serena.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t get the chance to cry. Not when his hands are sliding down my waist, cupping my ass with a possessive squeeze that makes my knees wobble. I can feel his hardness pressed against me. I whimper into his mouth, clinging to his shoulders, and I don’t even think—I just slide my hand down between us, finding the thick, hard ridge of his cock pressing against his pants. His breath shudders out against my neck, and when I start rubbing him through the pants, he lets out a deep, filthy groan that makes my thighs clench.
I feel bold and powerful, not reckless, not desperate—just seen, wanted, claimed by the only man who's ever made me feel real.
"I want you," I whisper, fingers tightening around the thick base of Levi’s cock, feeling how hard and ready he is for me."Can I... please? Can I suck you off?" His whole body locks up, fists clenching at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to slam me against the counter and wreck me, his jaw ticking as he fights for control.
"Baby," he rasps, voice low and raw, "I'll give you anything you want." He drops his pants and his thick hard cock springs free.
That’s all I need. I stand slowly, dragging my shirt over my head and letting it fall to the floor, baring my breasts without an ounce of fear. Levi’s eyes go black with hunger, his hands rough and reverent as they cup and lift the weight of me, his thumbs stroking my nipples until I’m shivering.
"These fucking tits," he growls, nipping lightly at the soft curve of my breast. "I could die right here and die happy." Dropping to my knees, I press my bare tits against his cock, rubbing the flushed, leaking head through the valley of them, teasing him slow and filthy. Levi groans, deep and broken, the sound going straight to my core.
"You’re so fucking big," I whisper, licking a long, slow stripe up the underside of him.
"And you’re fucking perfect," he fires back, sliding a hand into my hair, anchoring me like he needs me there. I moan low in my throat and take him deep into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks, stroking the thick shaft heaving in my hand. Levi’s whole body jerks, his hips flexing, but he lets me set the pace, lets me own him.
"Goddamn, you're gonna fucking break me," he groans as I slide him between my tits again, suckling the head, rolling my tongue against the slit until he’s cursing filthy promises under his breath.
He cups my face in his big, rough palms like I’m something fragile he’s terrified to break.
"You’re fucking perfect," he rasps against my forehead. "You know that, right? No one’s ever gonna touch you again. No one’s ever gonna see you the way I do."
Before I can answer, he scoops me into his arms, carrying me like it’s the most natural thing in the world, straight to the bedroom.
He lays me down gently, like I’m something precious. Reverent. His body shadows mine, big and warm and trembling with restraint.
"You tell me to stop, baby," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "You tell me if it’s too much."
"It’s not," I whisper back, reaching for him, needing him, needing this. "I want you."
He kisses me then—slow, deep, filthy and tender all at once—and as he slides his hand between my thighs, stroking the slick heat there, I arch into him, desperate for more. He peels my pants down and off, leaving me bare beneath him. His hand strokes over my hips, my belly, the swell of my breasts like he’s memorizing every curve.
"You’re so beautiful," he breathes against my skin, worshipping me with every touch, every look, every ragged sound he makes. "Every fucking inch of you, Serena. I see you."
I almost cry from how much I believe him.
He lines himself up, thick and ready, and pushes in slow, giving me time to adjust to every inch, every stretch, every deep, delicious burn that connects us even deeper. My breath hitches, but he doesn't rush, doesn't pound—he moves like he’s savoringit, savoringme, rocking in slow, shallow thrusts that make me feel full, stretched,claimed.
I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him, letting him anchor me as he moves inside me, dragging pleasure through every nerve in my body.
"You're mine," he growls against my mouth, hips grinding slow and deep, hitting spots inside me that no one ever found before. "You’re fucking mine, baby. You hear me?"
"I hear you," I whisper back, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes—not from pain. From how good he feels. From how goodhemakes me feel.
He kisses the tears away, murmuring broken praises against my lips, against my skin, telling me how sweet I am, how tight, how fucking perfect.
And when I come, clenching around him in waves so intense I see stars, he follows with a rough, desperate groan, spilling deep inside me, holding me tight as he presses our foreheads together.
