Page 120 of Broken Pieces
I wrap my legs around his waist, hips grinding up against his hard cock, greedy and aching. My pulse is a roar. Every breath feels stolen.
“Fuck,” he mutters against my throat, kissing down to the hollow, biting just enough to make me gasp. “You drive me insane, you know that? Sitting there with that mouth and those fucking eyes. Pretending you’re not soaking through your panties every time I walk in the room.”
My shirt’s shoved up, his hands rough as they push under it, thumbs brushing the underside of my tits, palms greedy and hot as he pulls it over my head.
He groans when he sees me.
“Fucking hell, Sky.”
His mouth is on me again, licking a path over the swell of my breast before sucking hard around my nipple.
I arch up, gasping his name, fingers tangling in his hair, dragging him closer.
He pulls back just enough to speak, his voice thick with need. “I’m gonna ruin you. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your own fucking name.”
Then he’s back on me, mouth everywhere, hands everywhere, tearing me open with touch alone. I’ve never wanted anything so fucking bad.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmurs, his lips dragging fire across my skin.
I don’t. Not now. Never.
His mouth keeps moving.
Wet kisses. Open-mouthed. Slow.
His tongue flicks over my nipple, sucking it between his lips until I arch into him.
I moan his name, and something in him snaps.
He freezes, and groans deep, the sound punched from his chest.
“Fuck, baby. You moan my name like that, and it does something to me.”
His hands trail lower, moving over my ribs, tracing the curve of my waist. His breath catches. He’s trembling; it’s in the tight pull of his jaw, in the way his fingers pause on the waistband of my shorts as if he’s giving me one last chance to stop him.
I don’t.
He drags my shorts down, and my panties go with them. His eyes don’t leave my skin as more of me is revealed.
Hunger darkens his gaze, the muscles in his throat working as he swallows hard. He’s still got that cocky, confident smirk. That rough, fucked-up swagger. But underneath it all, there’s a softness that kills me. Destroys me.
When I’m bare, he tosses the shorts aside and grips my thighs, spreading them open until my pussy is completely exposed.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. “You’re fucking perfect.” His voice is hoarse, wrecked, eyes locked between my legs. “So beautiful.”
I freeze.
No one’s ever said that to me before.
I’ve always been a burden… the broken one. The girl you walk around to avoid. But Zane… he doesn’t see any of that when he looks at me. He sees all the shit I carry around and still calls me beautiful.
He drops to his knees, grabbing my thighs again, this time firmer, dragging me closer to him. His fingers press into my flesh, and he leans in, breathing hot against my pussy. Everynerve lights up, every thought wiped clean. I sense him watching me, wanting me, holding back by a thread.
“Let me make it feel good, Sky,” he says. “I’ll take my time. Bring you to the edge. Get that sweet pussy ready for my cock.”
“You sound really experienced in this whole virgin thing,” I say.
He snorts, grinning as his hands push my legs further apart.
