Page 88 of All The Pretty Little Lies

I nod, my heart racing as I obey, gripping the sheets tightly. His lips brush against my inner thigh, his stubble scratching deliciously against my skin. He works his way up slowly, torturously, placing open-mouthed kisses along my flesh.

"Z," I whimper, my hips instinctively arching towards him.

He pulls back slightly, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Did I say you could move, moya koroleva?" His voice is stern, but his eyes dance with mischief.

I bite my lip, shaking my head.

"Good girl," he purrs, rewarding me with a gentle nip to my inner thigh. "Now, stay still and let me worship you properly."

His talented mouth resumes its exploration, and I fight to keep my eyes open, to keep watching him as he'd commanded. As he finally reaches my center, I gasp, my fingers twisting in thesheets. Zaire's tongue dances over my most sensitive areas, and I struggle to obey his earlier command to stay still.

"Z, please," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses, his hot breath teasing my sensitive flesh. "What do you need, moya koroleva?" Zaire's voice is husky, dripping with desire.

"You," I breathe, my body trembling with need. "Please, I need you."

His large finger shoves aside my panties, a low growl rumbles in his chest as he dives back in, his tongue circling my clit with expert precision. My back arches involuntarily, a moan escaping my lips as waves of pleasure wash over me. Zaire's strong hands grip my thighs, holding me in place as he works his magic.

His tongue flicks and swirls building me higher and higher. I can feel the tension coiling in my core, my release tantalizingly close. My fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white with the effort of staying still. Zaire's eyes, dark with lust, never leave mine as he pushes me closer to the edge.

Just as I'm about to tumble over, Zaire pulls away. I whimper at the loss, my body aching for completion. "Not yet," he growls, his voice rough with arousal. "On your knees, now."

I comply immediately, my legs shaky as I position myself before him. Zaire kneels, towering over me, his muscled chest heaving with each breath. His tattoos seem to ripple in the dim light, a work of art brought to life.

"Open your mouth," he commands, his hand cupping my chin. I obey, looking up at him through my lashes. "Good girl," he praises, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "Now, show me how much you want it."

I hesitate for a moment, my inexperience suddenly overwhelming. Zaire's eyes soften as he notices my uncertainty. "It's okay, moya koroleva," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "I'll guide you. Just take it slow."

With trembling hands, I reach for his zipper, fumbling slightly as I free him from his jeans. His length springs forth, impressive and intimidating. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Start with your hand," Zaire instructs, his voice husky. "Wrap your fingers around the base."

I do as he says, marveling at the contrast between the soft skin and the hardness beneath. Zaire hisses in pleasure, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head.

"Now, use your tongue," he continues. "Lick from base to tip, like it's the most delicious ice cream cone you've ever tasted."

Tentatively, I follow his directions, my tongue tracing the prominent vein along his shaft. The taste is unfamiliar but not unpleasant; salty and musky. His fingers tangle in my hair, encouraging me.

"That's it, moya koroleva," he groans. "Now, take the tip into your mouth. Be careful of your teeth."

I part my lips, taking him in slowly. The weight of him on my tongue is strange but exciting. I look up at Zaire, seeking approval, and find his eyes blazing with desire.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Your swollen lips wrapped around my cock. It's going to undo me, Vesper."

His words send a thrill through me, emboldening me to take him deeper. I hollow my cheeks, sucking gently as I bob my head, following the rhythm Zaire sets with his hand in my hair.

"Use your hand too," he instructs, his voice strained. "Stroke what you can't fit in your mouth."

I comply, my hand working in tandem with my mouth. Zaire's breathing grows ragged, his hips starting to move slightly. I gag a little as he hits the back of my throat, but his murmured praises encourage me to keep going.

"You're doing so well, moya koroleva," he groans. "Your mouth feels incredible."

His words spur me on, and I redouble my efforts, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, shallow ones. Zaire's grip on my hair tightens, his control slipping. His breath catches, and he gently pulls me off him. His eyes, dark with desire, lock onto mine. "As much as I'd love to see my cum staining those perfect lips," he growls, his voice husky, "I want to be inside you when we both find our release."

A shiver runs through me at his words, anticipation coiling low in my belly. Zaire's hand cups my cheek, his thumb tracing my swollen lips. "Take off your shirt and your panties.” I do as he says. My body on full display for him now.

“Turn around," he commands softly. "Hands and one knee on the edge of the bed."

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