Page 143 of Merciless Queen

Vanessa takes my silence as something else and sits forward, reaching behind her to the zipper on the back of her dress. Lipscurling up in the corner, she smirks. “If you’ve given up, suppose I’ll have to finish myself.”

Her words shoot liquid desire straight to my cock. A sudden longing to see her fingers fucking her own pussy overcomes me, but it’s quelled by the one thing I crave more: to be the one touching her.

She tugs the top of her dress to her waist, baring her breasts with budded nipples I long to lick through her next orgasm. She stands to drop her dress the rest of the way down, and given my proximity to her, it places her pussy right in front of my face. She lowers back to the couch before I move, and she’s naked all except those ungodly heels—exactly as I want her to be.

There’s a million and one things I plan on doing to her. A million and one things I can say.

For now, I simply kiss her again. One packed with longing and a plea for more, and the realization that within hours, I likely won’t see her ever again.

Zeno kissesme like I’m the air he needs to breathe.

He touches me like I’m glass that’ll shatter.

He holds me like I’mhis.

But I’m not. No matter the reason I called him back, why I can’t let him go quite yet, I won’t go deeper than this—than a momentary physical connection to work my addiction of him from my veins.

I can’t put myself in such a vulnerable position…no matter how tempting it is.

After tonight, I have to avoid the reminders, which means there will be no more communication with Zeno and his organization. The thought slices me deeper than a blade being jammed into my heart, but it’ll be safer this way. When Zeno later walks away, I plan on tucking him and these past few months into the past, to a place where I’ll never dredge it up.

A place where I’ll pretend I hadn’t tossed away what could very well be my entire world out of fear.

When he pulls back, a million statements run through his intense gaze, but they all fade with his blink. He kisses down myneck again, and this time, no material interrupts his path. He nips down toward my breasts and my head falls back, granting him more space so he can take me wherever he desires to.

He follows the path toward my nipples, and just when I assume he’ll grant me what I need, what my sensitive buds strain for, he skirts by them, earning a frustrated groan from me and him to chuckle viciously against my skin.

“Patience.”

Patience is impossible to have when we have such limited time.

His hands band around my wrists again as he slides off the couch and between my legs, his mouth continuing down my stomach until the ache inside me grows impossibly tight. I’m getting the sense he enjoys my submission, especially when he gives my wrists a gentle squeeze.

I’ve never enjoyed handing myself over to others, but with Zeno, it’s different. I know he won’t tie me to the bed or pin me in any way that’ll make me uncomfortable. He makes me want to surrender control and see the kind of man Zeno becomes when in charge of another’s pleasure.

I trust him.

When he blows over my pussy, I’m about ready to demand my hands back so I can grasp his head and shove him down on me, but I remain good in my agreement to be his for tonight. He kisses across my stomach, ignoring the needy whimpers that escape between clamped lips, revealing how fucking insane I’m becoming.

Then he grants me precisely what I need and wraps his lips around one of my nipples, biting down lightly. Lightly, but the sparks that erupt inside me are everything but. He releases my wrists, but I keep them in place, letting him move me to his own desires. He cups my other breast while his hand dips betweenmy legs and strokes through my wetness, making me jolt. His touch is featherlight, and I rock into his hand wanting more.

He switches nipples, even while continuing his strokes. His gentle caresses are opposite from his intense kisses earlier, or his needy licks when he was between my legs.

“Lie down,” he whispers into my skin and I obey instantly, a feeling foreign to me.

Once I’m stretched on the couch, Zeno climbs over me, his hand remaining between my legs as he strokes away the quell of panic that immediately hits. I haven’t shown any distress signs that I can tell, but he just knows. He kisses the skin between my breasts, sucks my nipples, and laps at my skin until my worries completely evaporate and all I can think about is him and his mouth.

“You’re here with me, Vanessa. Not there.”

Of course he read me. He’salwaysread me correctly.

“I know.”

“Good.” His fingers slip inside me, and the look he gives me is entirely boyish and unlike the Zeno I’ve come to know.

I lift my hips to match his thrusts, but it’s not enough. Despite the two orgasms he’s given me, I want him inside me. I open my mouth to tell him that but when Zeno pulls his fingers out, I assume I won’t have to. He rubs his fingers alongside another, and then dips them back inside me, this time with a third slowly stretching me.

My head falls back and Zeno nips the skin beneath my ear, distracting me through the stretch. The delicious burn that makes me mindless and electrocuted.

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