Page 58 of The Hearts We Fumble
I glance toward the doorway, debating if I should scramble for my clothes, but then Zane finally answers the silent question hanging in the air.
“Well,” he says, feigning nonchalance, “I was about to jump in the shower before you got here. I have class soon and need to run by the student center to print some things off for an assignment.”
It’s a perfectly crafted excuse, and I have to fight a grin.
“All right, man,” Colter replies, clapping him on the back. “I’ll catch you later.”
The door opens. A few muffled words pass between them, and then it closes with a quiet thud. A second later, the lock clicks into place, sending a rush straight through me.
Adrenaline surges through me. Heat floods my body, and I don’t waste a second. I move back into position, my pulse hammering as I widen my stance, bending at the waist, my hands gripping my ankles just like before.
I don’t even have to look to know Zane is watching.
A deep, guttural groan vibrates through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of his zipper lowering, fabric rustling as he shoves his jeans down.
His heavy footfalls approach, slow and deliberate. A hand slides over my hip, then lower, until he’s cupping me, his fingers tracing through the slickness waiting for him.
“If only your brother knew what his sweet little sister was doing back here,” he murmurs, his voice dark and dripping with possession. He presses against me, his length thick and hard against my ass, making my knees go weak. “He’d kick my ass if he knew all the ways I’ve dreamed about pleasuring you, firecracker.”
A shiver rolls down my spine. My body is already unraveling, practically begging him to keep going.
“Zane,” I breathe, arching into his touch, the words escaping on a moan. “Please.”
He pushes his jeans down to the floor, his underwear right behind them. I glance between my legs up at him. His fist is wrapped around his length, his eyes zeroed in on my pussy.
I shimmy, eager for him to finally touch me. I need it, need him, like my next fuckin’ breath.
Zane kneels on the floor behind me, and from this angle, I get a perfect view of his dick bobbing in front of him, slapping against his tight stomach.
He wraps his hand around himself, fisting his cock in one hand when he leans forward and swipes his tongue over my clit until he’s thrusting into my pussy.
“Holy shit,” I moan, my body swaying.
Zane holds my waist, keeping me from falling over when he does it again. Only this time instead of fucking me with his tongue, he continues the path up until he flicks over my hole.
“One of these days, I’m going to take you here.” He brushes his finger over the tight ring, and I quietly release a low, “Please.”
“You want me to fuck you in your tight little ass?”
“Zane.”
“Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
“Ye-yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I want you to fuck my ass.”
“Mmm,” he hums, rewarding me by burying his face between my legs. He releases his hold on his dick, grabbing me with both of his hands by the waist to keep me upright, and devours me.
I’m so lost in the feeling that I have to release the grip on my ankles and move my hands to the floor to steady myself, or I’ll go tumbling to the floor.
“Up,” he orders. “Bend over the side of the bed.”
The mattress is tall, bringing me nearly at level with his waist. I hoist one of my legs over the side, spreading myself out for him.
Like a predator closing in on its prey, Zane moves with deliberate intent, his grip firm as he catches my waist, holding me in place. His body is hot, solid, every inch of him radiating possession as he lines himself up at my entrance again.
