Page 126 of Broken Pieces
Her thighs shake. And fuck if I’m not chasing that moment, chasing her release as if it’s mine too. Because nothing comes close to fucking her right to the edge and watching her fall apart all over my cock.
I move my other hand down lower, over her stomach, before slipping between her thighs. I find her clit, my fingers working in tight, filthy strokes that make her body jerk beneath mine.
“Oh my fucking God, Zane,” she cries out, her voice cracking as her hips lift to meet every stroke. Her eyes are locked on mine, her mouth parted as breathless moans spill out between gasps.
“Yeah,” I growl, grinding deeper, cock buried to the hilt, still fucking her slow, while my fingers work her without mercy. “You feel that? How fucking perfect this is?”
She whimpers, thighs trembling around me.
“Fuck,” I bite out, losing rhythm as her walls clench tighter around my cock.
“Come for me, baby. Fucking come for me before I lose it and fill you up.”
And she does.
Her pussy clenches, body locking tight as she cries out, her whole frame shuddering beneath mine.
She’s still coming when I fuck her hard.
No more slow, controlled strokes. This is desperate, I’m relentless.
“Zane! Fuck, fuck, don’t stop—”
She’s loud.
Perfect.
I thrust into her like I’m losing my fucking mind, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. My cock’s so fucking hard it hurts, and everything in me is burning, on edge, seconds away from shattering.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” I bite out, the pressure building fast, brutal, blinding.
Then it hits.
I groan as the orgasm rips through me, head dropping back, jaw slack, every muscle locking up as I shoot into the condom.
My whole body jerks with every pulse of release, and I can’t stop moving, can’t stop grinding into her as I come, cock milked for everything I’ve got.
I fuck her slow through the aftershocks, both of us already over the edge.
She twitches beneath me, overstimulated.
I lower myself gently, resting on my elbows, lips hovering above hers. I kiss her softly. My forehead presses against hers, our bodies tangled, skin hot and damp.
And for the first time in what seems like fucking forever, I finally breathe.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice low, brushing her lips with another kiss as my eyes roam over her beautiful face.
She nods, lips parted, cheeks flushed, lashes heavy. She’s still floating in that orgasm haze, her body loose, her breathing uneven.
“You’re pretty good at that,” she murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.
I give her my signature smirk. The one that usually gets girls begging for round two.
“Did you expect anything less?”
She snorts, teasing, “Yeah, I suppose all those chicks you’ve fucked… you’d have to get good at it eventually.”
I say nothing about that because none of them meant a damn thing, not like this.
