Page 35 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“Zane,” she whimpers.

I’m hard as a fucking rock as I curl my fingers, hitting that spot from the inside, and I can feel her start to fall apart. Her hands reach for me, but then they slip away, like she’s too far gone to fight it.

“Tell me to stop,” I say, my voice low, leaning in as I pull her clit into my mouth. I can feel her trying to resist, her body trembling beneath me.

She lets out this tiny cry, “Please.”

“Quiet, little slut,” I growl, licking harder, faster. I know exactly how to push her over the edge, and when I do, she shatters. Her whole body tightens around my fingers, and I keep going, licking, sucking, until she’s completely spent, lying there, motionless.

I lean over her, catching my breath. Tears streak her cheeks, and I kiss her, tasting the salt.

“Zane,” she whispers, her lips soft under mine.

“Shh,” I tell her, biting down on her lower lip, tugging. “It’s my turn.”

I stand up, spin her around, and drag her to the edge of the bed. My black sweatpants drop, and I’m hard, ready. I slap her ass, watching the red mark I leave behind, and I smirk.

“I’m gonna mark you,” I tell her, my voice thick. I pull off my shirt and drop it to the ground.

She doesn’t say a word, just stays there, looking over her shoulder with those big hazel eyes. Like she’s waiting for me to decide what happens next.

I pump my cock in my hand, then with rough tugs, I come all over her back and ass, watching the way my cum glistens on her skin.

She looks back at me, unsure. Her eyes are wide, uncertain, but there’s something else there, too. Trust. Or maybe she’s just too damn confused to know what to do with it.

“I thought you were gonna fuck me.”

I smirk. “Not tonight, baby. Next time.”

I grab my shirt off the floor and wipe her down, my eyes following every curve of her body. She watches me, dragging her gaze over my chest, my abs, the tattoos inked across my skin.

“You have tattoos,” she says, voice soft, almost surprised.

I nod, grinning as I sit down next to her. “Yeah.”

She blinks up at me, eyes wide, and then she says it. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I scoff. “Stop fighting this, Remy. You want this.” My hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer. I expect her to shove me away. But instead, she melts into me, her body soft against mine.

“Zane...” she whispers again.

“Yeah, baby?”

“What do you want from me?” Her voice cracks, and I freeze for a second, not expecting that.

“I wantyou,” I tell her honestly. It’s the only thing I can think to say. I’m not sure what else there is anymore.

She lets out a laugh, but it’s not the kind of laugh that makes me feel good. It’s hollow, sad, and I tense up, not sure what to do. If she starts crying... fuck, I wouldn’t know what to do with that.

“Why are you home?” I ask, changing the subject, trying to steer this somewhere else.

“My mom’s not feeling good,” she says softly, the words barely making it out.

“Not feeling good?” I ask, rubbing her back, trying to be comforting even though I don’t know how to be.

“Exhaustion,” she whispers. “She’s working all these long hours at the hospital, killing herself just to make sure I get through school, even with the scholarship, it’s still a financial burden.”

I nod, not knowing what to say. I should do something, but I don’t know what. Instead, I just hold her. I hold her until her breathing slows down, until she’s calm again.

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