Page 11 of Violent Things
“You want me. I can fucking smell it on you.” He nips me with his teeth, hard enough to make me gasp.
“Maybe I do.”
“You want me to fuck you, angry girl? ‘Cause I’m not opposed to the idea. And neither is my dick.” His hot breath sends searing vibrations shooting through my body. The sound I make in the back of my throat is loud and embarrassing, but it seems to spur Zeth on. His hands work their way underneath my sweater, his fingers skating over the skin of my belly, up, up, up until he reaches the swell of my breast.
“You have to say it, Sloane. I want to hear you tell me how badly you want me.”
“Idowant you. I need you. I need you inside me. Please…”
Zeth traces the line of my jaw with his free hand, and then he tilts my head back with his thumb, so that I’m looking up into his dark, fierce eyes. “Are you going to do what I tell you to?” he asks. “Because I need you to be a good girl for me, Sloane.”
He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, staring at my mouth. He constantly surprises me with what dark, sexual things run through his head. I can never guess what he’s thinking. If he were another guy, I’d assume he was thinking about me wrapping my mouth around his cock right now, but it’s never that simple with Zeth. He’s complicated in his desires. A small frown flickers across that savagely beautiful face of his. Pain rockets through me as he pinches and rolls my nipple through the thin lace of my bra.
“You haven’t answered me, Sloane. Are you going to do what I tell you?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do what you tell me.” Two days. We haven’t slept with each other in two days, and it’s just too long. I’ve been wanting him, needing him, fantasizing about him every moment I haven’t been focused on saving someone’s life. And I’m betting he’s been focused on all the things he wants to do to me too, especially while he’s been smashing his fist into things.
Zeth leans forward and bites my lower lip, hard, still pinching my nipple. I suck in a sharp breath, letting the bright sensation of pain cascade through me. He stops biting me, but runs his tongue over my lip instead, tasting me in that highly sexual way he has. The way he licks at my mouth is the same way he licks at my clitoris when he first goes down on me—slow and drawn out. His eyes are locked onto mine, burning and intense, and I can’t help the strangled noise that comes out of me.
“Fuck, Zeth.”
He instantly stops what he’s doing, removing himself from me, taking a step back. My nipple throbs with the ache that he’s left behind, begging for more of the same. There was a time when I would have shied away from the strange urge to let him own me, to let him have complete power over me, but not anymore. Now, I crave it in the same way my body craves oxygen.
No one else knows this side of me. My friends, my family my work colleagues…everyone knows the strong, resilient, commanding Sloane. They would never imagine me to be like this with anyone. But being strong, resilient and commanding at all times is exhausting, especially when I feel like I’m making things up as I go along most days. Zeth takes the pressure of being me of my shoulders when he owns me like this. He gives me permission to be vulnerable.
The night air teases at the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail, as I stand completely still. Zeth stalks around me, looking me up and down with hungry eyes. I can see the goose bumps on his shoulders, and I know it’s not because it’s cold. It’s because he’s turned on and he’s thinking about what he’s going to do to me.
He circles me once, twice, and I resist the urge to reach out and touch him. My hands stay by my sides, though it takes everything I’ve got to hold back. He stops behind me, close enough that I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck.“Take your clothes off for me, Sloane. I want to watch.”
My breathing stutters out of me in one long, broken sigh. Zeth circles me one last time before he takes a seat on the tree stump he was using as a base to chop the wood on. Even though he’s only five feet away, he still doesn’t feel close enough. I want his hands on my body again. I want to feel him growing more and more impatient as he teases his fingers across my burning skin. I know I won’t get any of that until I’ve done what he wants me to do, though.
I start with my sweater. It’s warm enough in Seattle right now to not need a coat. I don’t have anything on under the sweater, either, so when I slowly, carefully lift it over my head, I’m left standing there in nothing but my bra.
Zeth’s eyelids lower a little, looking heavy as he watches me. The power of his gaze on my skin is enough to put fire in my veins. I love the way he looks at me. Love the way his eyes travel over my body like he’s imagining consuming me in the most erotic ways possible.
I kick off my shoes, not caring that the grass is slightly damp on my bare feet. My jeans are next. I don’t even attempt to make a show out of it. I’d end up tripping over my own pants, and besides, trying to put on a striptease for him would look porny and fake. That’s not what he wants. He just wants to seeme. I can’t tear my eyes off him as he watches my hands move over my body, removing my clothes one piece at a time. He looks fascinated by the process. I’m not even mildly embarrassed as I slip out of my bra and panties. I feel liberated. I feel alive. My body aches for him as he considers me, lit only by the soft glow of the gas lamp that sits on the ground between us.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers. “Come here.”
I go to him, and he opens his legs so I can stand between them. Carefully, reverently, he raises his right hand and strokes his fingers across my stomach, coming to rest on my hip. His hands aren’t soft. They’ve been used to fight his whole life. He’s built so many things for the gym and for the house in the last few months, and he’s chopped about three truckloads of wood just for fun. They’re calloused and rough, but the way he uses them to touch me is so very gentle.
With him still sitting down, he has to look up at me as he touches me. His left hand moves up my body, palming the heavy swell of my breast, one at a time; he straightens so that he can take the nipple he was pinching a moment ago into his mouth. He may have been staring at my lips not to long ago, but now it’s my turn to stare. His lips are incredible. Full and expressive and biteable. I’m already wet, but watching him lick and suck at me while his strong, demanding hands work their way over every part of my skin makes my body go wild.
I can’t touch him. I know I can’t, not yet, but I want to so badly, it’s killing me.
“Your body was made for me, Sloane,” he groans. “Turn around.”
I know better than to disobey. I’m still a girl, though. I still have my body hang-ups, and my ass is one of them. No one could ever accuse me of not having one, that’s for sure. With anyone else, I’d undoubtedly be self-conscious, but my brain is too crowded to even comprehend that right now. I just want to feel him touching me, enjoying me, exploring me. The way he worships my body, from the very first time we slept together, has always made me feel like Iamperfect.
Zeth runs his hands up over the curve of my ass and then over my hips, taking hold of me so he can pull me back toward him. I feel his mouth, hot and insistent pressing into the skin of my lower back, and then even hotter when he uses his tongue. He travels down, licking and biting at my butt cheek, making me squirm.
“Open your legs, Sloane.” His voice is thick with lust, low and demanding. I open my legs, only slightly mortified that he’s about to discover what he’s done to me. His fingers trail painfully slowly up the inside of my thigh, until he eventually reaches the junction between my legs. He hovers just to the side of my pussy, knowing that it’s driving me absolutely insane to have him so close to touching me, and yet refraining. I’m panting, and my legs feel weak. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and I could wring his neck for it, but I’m also enjoying it. Enjoying it way,waytoo much. This is part of our game. I can’t react. I can’t just jump him. If I do, he’ll torture me until I can’t bear it anymore. Sometimes that can be fun, but right now I need him so badly. My body needs to feel like it’s complete.
I hold my breath, careful not to move as he bites at me some more, on my hips, my ass, my thigh. The biting gets progressively harder, until I can barely stand anymore. It hurts, yes, but it also feels incredible. Zeth laughs mercilessly under his breath as my own kicks up a notch. Eventually he guides his fingers backward between my legs, sweeping them over my slick pussy, making my whole body lock up. His fingers…his fingersthere…
I can barely form a coherent thought.
“My god, Sloane,” he sighs. “Look at you. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
