Page 173 of Broken Pieces
I come with a force that steals my voice, leaving my body trembling beneath him.
Zane stills.
His eyes search mine, and for a second, all the cocky bravado slips away. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I exhale shakily, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“Better than okay,” I whisper, my body still thrumming with aftershocks.
He fucks me hard, rough and relentless, chasing his own pleasure with a need that borders on desperation.
His thrusts are deep, punishing, making the bed creak beneath us. The muscles in his arms flex with every movement, that filthy mouth drops open as he groans, head tipping forward, eyes half-lidded with the kind of bliss that looks obscene on someone that beautiful.
I watch his face contort as he finally loses control.
His body jerks against mine as he comes with a ragged moan, cock pulsing inside me, as he fucks me through his orgasm.
He stills, breath coming in short, uneven gasps. I feel the aftershocks of him coming ripple through his body as he unravels piece by piece.
My fingers find his hair, and I thread them through the damp strands, gently pulling him closer until his cheek is pressed against my breast.
He holds me, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist, the other splayed across my stomach.
When he finally lifts his head, there’s a softness in his expression. His gaze drags across my face.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, voice low. A crooked grin tugs at his mouth, cocky as fuck and everything him. “I’ve fucked no one like that before.”
His hand slides up, slow and steady, fingers brushing over my ribs, skimming the underside of my breast, before resting right above my heart, where it thunders, loud beneath his palm.
His eyes meet mine, that signature arrogance fading into something real.
“You know what this is,” he says. He leans in, forehead brushing mine, breath ghosting over my lips. “You’re mine now, and I’m fucking yours. Every fucked-up, broken, bleeding piece of me, you’ve got it. No one else gets to touch you or this pussy. No one else gets to see me like this.”
His thumb strokes over that scar above my brow, his mouth inches from mine.
“Say something before I lose my fucking mind.”
I stare at him. That brutal beauty wrapped around a heart he swears doesn’t know how to love. But I’ve seen it.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words trembling in the quiet.
His eyes close, lashes lowering… like the sound of those three words are too much to bear.
I watch it hit him—the bad boy who’s spent his whole life pretending he doesn’t have a heart.
When he opens his eyes again, they’re wet, sad with something I’ve never seen in him before.
His voice comes out rough, almost broken. “You are the only person who has ever said that to me.”
I reach up, fingers slipping through his hair, and I press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I mean it, Zane,” I whisper against his mouth. “Every fucking word.”
Chapter Thirty
Zane
ItoldSkylarIwasdone. No more fights. Told her she didn’t have to worry anymore.
