Page 11 of Offside Angel

“We can’t do this in here.” He says it with obvious regret in his voice.

I need this to happen here. If we leave—if he takes me back home—it will be so much harder to do what I have to do.

Suddenly, he picks me up and turns around.

I cling to him. “Where are we going?”

“I’m not going to fuck you in this filthy bathroom.”

As we leave, I blink around the room and, yeah, okay, I was seeing the room through I’m-about-to-be-murdered glasses before. Followed quickly by fuck-me-now glasses. It’s disgusting. It needs a deep clean… followed by an exorcism and a speedy demolition.

Zane throws me back on the bed. The mattress springs protest and then erupt in a full-on riot as he falls over me. “It’s bad enough I’m going to have to fuck you in this bed.” He lifts my dress around my waist, his fingers hooking in the sides of my panties. “You should be in our bed. In our house.”

I whimper at his words as much as the brush of his new facial hair over my hip, between my thighs.

He drags my panties down my legs and kisses his way back up, pressing my legs apart as he goes. “I should’ve had you like this every day, Mira. Do you hear me?”

He parts me with his fingers, and I don’t hear anything except the whirr of blood in my ears, pulsing to the same beat I feel in my core.

Zane tastes me with tentative strokes at first that deepen with every shift of my hips, every groan I can’t hold back.

When I fist his hair and haul him closer, he growls and tilts my hips to his mouth. He buries his face inside of me and I forgot anything could feel this good.

He’s right. I need this every day.

How am I going to walk away?

“I need it,” I pant, rolling myself against his mouth and his tongue. “Please.”

All at once, he stops. Zane drops my hips and crawls over me. His lips are slick from me and his eyes are dark and blazing. “Say it again.”

“Please?”

He shakes his head and curls his hand between my legs. “Say it again.”

I frown before I realize what he’s demanding. “I need it.”

He rewards me with one finger, sliding it deep. He watches it disappear inside of me. “Again.”

“I need it,” I pant, arching to take another of his thick fingers. “I need you.”

Zane works his hand inside of me, curling and stroking until I’m fisting the scratchy comforter and panting his name. “You need me, Mira,” he breathes against my neck. He kisses my stomach and my hip, his fingers never slowing. “You can’t leave again. You have to stay. You need this.”

If he’s trying to change my mind, he’s doing a world-class job. Consider me a convert.

Zane thrusts his fingers into me at the same time he seals his mouth over my clit, and I’m gone. Airborne. On my way to another dimension.

My body spasms and shakes, and he follows the rise and fall of my release, easing me down with gentle touches until I’m a puddle of relief on the bed.

“God, I missed the sounds you make when you come for me.” Zane drags the straps of my dress down my arms and peels it off of me, throwing it to the floor. His pants are next and then he’s stroking himself, studying every inch of me like I might disappear again.

And I will.

Soon.

But for now…

I wrap my hand around him, and Zane is more than willing to let me take control. He presses into my hand, his teeth biting into his lower lip. When I stroke the tip of him over myself, working him into the mess he left between my legs, his eyes drop closed.

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