Page 142 of Broken Pieces
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Skylar
Mywholebody’sstillpulsing. Thighs trembling. Breath uneven. I can’t fucking move.
Zane stands there, looming over me, eyes dark and full of something I don’t know how to name. His chest rises and falls, lips still wet with me. He unbuttons his jeans slowly, as if he’s giving me a second to catch my breath. But I don’t want to catch up. I want all of it.
I push up onto my elbows, still dizzy from the high, but my body is already reaching for him. I can feel the heat rolling off him, see his cock straining against the denim.
“Take them off,” I whisper, voice shot to hell.
He freezes for a breath, before shoving them down.
My mouth goes dry. His cock’s already hard, thick, flushed, so fucking perfect I ache from looking at him.
I sit up fully and reach for it. My fingers wrap around the base, and he lets out a sharp hiss through his teeth.
“Sky…”
I stroke him once, and then again.
His whole body goes tight. I catch the pulse under my hand, see the way his head tips back for a second, jaw flexing as he tries to hold it together.
“Open that sweet fucking mouth for me,” he grits out.
I don’t hesitate. I sink down onto my knees in front of him and take the tip into my mouth.
His hand flies to the back of my head, not pushing, just keeping me there.
I take him deeper, lips sliding down his length, one inch at a time.
His whole body shudders. A low groan rips from his throat.
I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks, letting him experience every inch.
I look up at him. He’s braced with one hand on the hood of the car, the other holding my head in place.
His grip tightens.
“Fuck,” he mutters, breath catching.
I pull back just enough so he can fuck my mouth.
And he does.
Slow at first, like he’s testing how deep he can go, how much I can take.
Then deeper.
Rougher.
His hips jerk forward, cock sliding against my tongue, hitting the back of my throat.
I keep my lips tight and let him use me, and take what he needs. Saliva drips from the corner of my mouth, but I don’t care. I want him wild and desperate.
His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling enough to sting.
