Page 168 of Broken Pieces
I give in, opening for him, letting him in, and his control shatters completely.
He groans as one hand comes up to cradle the front of my throat. While his other hand grips my hip.
The kiss deepens.
Becomes something else.
My whole body aches with the intensity of it. My skin burns under his hands, every cell tuned to him.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think, can’t do anything but whimper into his mouth, high from the taste of him.
His fingers pinch my nipple, and I gasp, hips grinding down before I can stop myself. It sets something off in me. A switch, a fucking explosion. I’m desperate, my body burning with the need that makes my skin pull too tight.
I tear my mouth from his, panting, tasting him still on my lips.
“I want you to fuck me.”
His eyes darken. That cocky grin slips, replaced by something hungrier.
He drags me closer with both hands on my hips, grinding me down until the thick head of his cock slides through the wet mess between my thighs. I shudder, every nerve in my body lighting up as I feel the shape of him hot against me.
“You don’t need to fucking ask, Sky. Get off on my cock any time you want.”
The way he says it, goes straight to my core. I roll my hips, dragging my soaked cunt over his length. My thighs tremble from how fucking good it is. Every ridge, every vein, every goddamn inch of him is built to please me.
My stomach coils, heat building fast.
His cock moves on my clit, and I nearly cry out from how fucking sensitive I am. “Oh my god… Zane.”
“Christ,” he breathes out, voice rough and ragged as I glide over him again. “Your pretty pussy’s drenching my cock.”
The heat in his eyes darkens, that edge of hunger sharpening as his hand wraps around the base of his cock.
“Rub it on your clit.”
I don’t hesitate.
I curl my fingers around him, guiding him where I need him most.
His gaze drops, locked on every stroke I make.
“That’s it,” he mutters through gritted teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching as I drag the thick head against my sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck.”
A low moan slips out of me before I can stop it, hips already chasing more. The drag of him against me—firm, perfect, soaked in everything I’m giving—is almost too much.
“Feels good, huh?” he says, voice hoarse.
“So good,” I whisper, breath catching.
But it’s not just the pressure or the friction that’s got me unraveling. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, like I’m something sacred and filthy all at once. He makes me believe I’m fucking beautiful.
Zane’s lips part, chest rising and falling as if he’s barely holding himself together. That raw need burns in his eyes, and I know he wants every piece of this.
I moan again, louder this time, as I pick up the pace. The tip of his cock drags across my clit with every stroke, slick and steady, and my thighs tremble from how close I am.
“Fuck, I can feel you throbbing on my cock,” he groans, head tipping back, jaw clenched, hands digging into my hips as if he’s trying to keep it together. “You’re so close.”
