Page 150 of Ruthless Intent

“Please, Zain.”

“I like the way you say my name.” His voice is thick, rough, deeper than usual.

If that’s what it takes …

“Zain … Zain … Zain.” I chant his name.

“Fuck … yes.” He eases back, until he’s almost out of my body then slams back in.

The fingers of one hand play with my clit, the other tugs, twists, and pinches my nipple, and his dick thrusts in and out in a pounding rhythm that drives the air from my lungs, and sets off a series of volcanic eruptions in my body.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

ZAIN

It takes every bit of willpower and self-control I’ve developed over the years not to come the second my dick is inside her.

I focus on the room, the color of the walls, the stupid ornaments on the shelves, the light switches. Anything that isn’t the woman in my arms.

But that only lasts for so long, and when she starts chanting my name, I know I’ve lost the battle. I can’t hold off any longer, but I sure as fuck am not going to come before she does.

I manage to hang on to my thread of control until her body bucks and arches. It feels like my dick is swelling, getting harder, and I pull out of her body just in time to come all over her stomach.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I grind out the word from between gritted teeth, rolling off the couch and onto my knees on the floor.

Head bowed, one hand braced on the carpet, I fight to get control of my breathing. The world is spinning, lights flaring behind my eyes, and I’m sure my heart is going to burst out of my chest at any second.

Has sex always been that good, or is it because it’s been so long?

I swallow against the dryness of my mouth. My throat is tight, breathing is hard. But slowly my heart rate slows, and my vision returns.

Movement beside me, has me turning my head in time to see Ashley sit up. She meets my gaze.

“I should …” she waves a hand at where my cum is covering her stomach. “I need to clean up.”

I nod. “There’s a restroom at the other end of the kitchen.”

She looks around, grabs my T-shirt and presses it to the sticky mess on her stomach, then stands and sways for a second. She catches me watching her and gives a shaky laugh. It draws an answering smile from me, and I reach out to run my fingers down her thigh.

“We’ll talk when you’re done.”

She bites her lip, then gives a small nod of her head. I don’t move from where I’m kneeling, and just watch her walk across the room, admiring the sway of her hips.

Less than three seconds after she’s left the room, my cell phone’s ringtone sounds. Looking around, I find my sweats, and take the cell out of a pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Zain?”

I pull the cell away from my ear and look at the number. The voice is familiar, but it’s not in my contacts.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Esme. Is Ashley there?”

“She’s just gone to the bathroom. Is everything okay?”

“Her friends from New York are here. They want to see her.”

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