Page 170 of Broken Pieces
Not yet.
I lean in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, my voice nothing but a desperate breath.
“I need you to fuck me and make me yours.”
His whole body goes rigid.
For a second, he doesn’t move, just stares down at me like he’s trying to decide if he should ruin me completely or worship every inch of me until I fall apart beneath him.
Then his hands clamp down on my ass, fingers digging in, his restraint snapping under the weight of everything I just said.
The second he pulls out, I feel it. Emptiness so sudden it makes my whole body ache. The loss cuts deep, but before I can even think to protest, he flips me onto my back. Onto the bed.
The look in his eyes is lethal. All rough edges and bad intentions.
He looms over me, muscles coiled, the predator in him fully awake now, and I am nothing but prey spread beneath him, begging to be devoured.
“You already belong to me, Sky.” His voice is rough, low, dangerous. “Every fucking part of you.”
Then he drops to his knees.
“Now fucking spread those legs.”
As soon as I do, he dives in.
His tongue slides through my folds, every movement practiced, precise, devastating.
He flicks, circles, and sucks, working me over with such filthy talent that I can’t stop the breathy moans spilling out of me. It’s fucking obscene how good it feels.
My fingers claw into the sheets as his mouth claims every inch, like he’s trying to undo me from the inside out.
Then his hand slides up my body until he finds my breast and pinches my nipple just hard enough to make my back arch off the bed. My gasp rips through the room.
His mouth doesn’t stop. He groans into me; the sound vibrating straight through my clit.
It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
I swear I’m going to lose my mind.
He switches it up, tongue flattening against me while two fingers join the game.
My thighs tremble. My hips jerk. I roll against his face, needing more, chasing it.
“Zane,” I gasp, breath hitching. “Please… fuck… just fuck me already.”
He pulls back, lips swollen, chin soaked in me, cocky grin spread wide as if he’s proud of the mess he’s made.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs. “Soaked and desperate. Just for me.”
I groan, half in frustration, half because he looks so goddamn good kneeling there with that arrogant smirk and the evidence of my slick, glistening on his skin.
He’s an asshole. A gorgeous, dangerous asshole who likes to tease the fuck out of me.
He leans over, voice a low rasp that scrapes across my stomach. “How badly do you crave my cock?”
That cocky smirk curves his mouth—fuck, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
