Page 169 of Offside Devil

Our fingers are tangled together over my head. Zane's arms cage us in, sealing us in a world of our own. He hovers just out of reach. “You’re not scared?”

Funny he should ask: because I’m terrified.

Of losing him. Losing this.

I’m scared of waking up tomorrow without Zane and missing him for the rest of my sad, lonely life.

I shake my head. “You don’t scare me.”

He bands his hand around both of my wrists and uses his free hand to grip my hip. He snaps our bodies together, the hard length of him slipping between my bare thighs.

A moan tears out of me.

“Maybe you should be.” He rocks against me. His eyes fall closed and his breath is a heavy exhale against my neck. “I told you to leave. I told you I’m not good company tonight.”

I’ve seen Zane after a loss, but this is different. The frustration simmering under his skin has nothing to do with hockey. It’s about me.

We’ve been circling each other for days and it needs to end.

We need to work it out.

My nipples pinch and I roll my hips to get closer to him. “Be bad company, then.”

He opens his eyes and I watch his pupils expand. I watch the hunger grow with every brush of our bodies, but he’s holding himself rigidly. I feel like a tourist in front of Buckingham Palace, trying to make one of the guards break.

“Fuck me,” I beg, leaning as far from the wall as his hold will allow. I almost reach his lips, but he doesn’t let me. “Use me, Zane. I can take it.” I hook my leg around his thigh, jerking him closer. “I want to take it.”

All at once, we collide.

His lips crush against mine, bruising and unrelenting. It’s a scrape of teeth and tongues that leaves me breathless. He drags his tongue over my pebbled nipple and then takes it between his teeth. He tugs until I cry out.

“I thought you could take it,” he growls, soothing the ache away with his tongue. “If you can’t, say it now. I’m just getting started.”

He talks against my skin like he can’t force himself to pull away. Like he needs to taste and touch me as much as I need him to never stop.

“Don’t stop,” I breathe.

His jaw flexes. “Whatever you say, Mira.”

He turns me around and plants my palms on the wall. I frown; I wanted to undress him slowly. To slide my hand in his sweats and work out some of the tension in his shoulders. I wanted to watch strong, sturdy Zane crumble in my hand.

But he has other ideas.

He kicks my ankles apart and, before I can even find my balance, he’s pushing into me.

“Shit!” I hiss, back bending.

“You want to take it?” he grits out, sliding deeper. “Then take it. Take all of me.”

I moan as my body stretches around him. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my waist, pulling me against him until he’s flush against my backside. Until we’re sealed together.

“You weren’t lying about that, were you?” he murmurs, almost to himself.

Before I can register what he means, he drags out of me and plunges back in.

I scrape my nails against the wall, searching for something to hold onto. But there isn’t time. Zane retreats and fills me again, bending my back with the force. Before I can catch my breath, he’s doing it again.

And again.

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