Page 113 of Light the Fire

This was who Zane was. He didn’t ease into anything.

“Jesus. Fuck,” he growled, resting his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Kitten.”

I swallowed and dared to open my eyes.

His eyes were open, too, and what stared back at me had me shoving down the harsh gasp that snagged like a fishhook in the back of my throat.

I’d never seen the man look so … raw. So shredded.

His guard was completely down. There was no mask, no … pain. Because I knew it pained him to keep whatever secrets he was harboring.

Saying nothing but simply reading each other’s bodies, we began to move.

And unlike the first time I’d had sex with Rix or Jorik, where the guys were gentle and took things slowly to make sure I was comfortable, Zane was neither gentle nor slow.

His cock pounded into me with a violent passion, causing the back of my head to slam against the wall of the shed. But I did not care.

Every thrust brought me closer to the top of that gorgeous cliff.

I didn’t want soft and gentle with Zane. That had never been the nature of our relationship. He knew what I wanted and gave it to me tenfold.

Hard, brutal, rough, and demanding.

Furious, ferocious fucking of the most feral kind.

His growl was more animal than man, and it had my heart beating wildly and my body demanding more. His savage sounds were music to my ears, and I wanted to hear every note.

Wedging a hand between us, he found my clit and wiggled his finger over it.

I sucked in a sharp breath, but he stole that air from my lungs when he covered my mouth with his, bringing back the taste of blood. He tugged on my lip with his teeth, so I bit him back. Both of us growled as he slammed into me harder and harder, the metal walls flexing and thundering under the weight of our bodies.

I shoved my fingers up into his thick, unruly dark hair and tugged hard on his scalp.

“You bitch,” he snarled as he went for my neck, biting hard enough I knew I’d have marks.

“Fuck you,” I breathed back.

“You are,” he replied, swirling his tongue around his bite mark to soothe the snap of pain that I secretly enjoyed.

My body clenched, and my pussy began to spasm around his punishing cock as he bucked up into me harder and harder, his skilled fingers dancing and tweaking my tight bundle of nerves.

“Why won’t you fucking come?” he growled, spinning us around, my back no longer against the wall. He threw us both to the ground.

We fell with a harsh thud to the earth, but he never left my body.

Settling between my thighs as I lay there, my hair in the dirt, he levered up onto his knees, braced himself on his hands, then began to really pound into me.

His arm muscles bulged with the strain of having to carry his own weight, but the determination on his face as he slammed home kept me mesmerized. I couldn’t look anywhere else but his eyes. The silver flecks of his irises danced as the morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of the trees, while the branches cast shadows across his face, making him even more menacingly attractive. His cut jaw, his strong nose—the man was sex incarnate, and I wanted to devour him.

The look in his eyes had started out as a rawness that gutted me to my core, but it quickly morphed into a feral passion that mirrored my own, always underscored with a glint of hate, though. That was unmistakable.

But what looked back at me now, what caught me more off guard than anything, was the look of fear on his face. Of worry.

He was genuinely worried that he wasn’t going to get me off.

A laugh bubbled up inside me, but I shoved it down.

He did NOT have to worry about me coming.

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