I have him like this, naked before me. He can’t hide anything from me here.
“Zayne…” I catch his eye again. Begin to inch his boxers down his legs. “Have you done this before?”
“What, been tied up?” His eyes catch mine with a mischievous glint. “Once or twice, I have to admit.”
I laugh. Then shake my head. “Have you ever felt so… hungry for somebody before?” I trace my hands along his sides, down to his upper thighs. I pull his boxers further down, far enough that his cock springs free, standing tall at attention, curved upwards so the tip almost touches his navel. “You just made me come, and it was great, fantastic, but I…” I graze his cock with my fingertip, barely a touch, just enough to make him jump as his muscles clench in reply. “I already want more.”
He swallows so hard it’s audible, and gazes up at me with sincerity. “I know exactly what you mean, Clove. I never knew it was possible to feel this hungry. Every minute of the day, I think about you, about all the things I want to do to you, all the ways I want to enjoy your body. I’ve been hard practically since the night we first spoke…”
I touch his cock again, still lightly, barely touching him between my fingertips. I stroke them up and down his length, hardly touching him, but he’s so turned on already that it makes his hips twist against the bed, his eyes hot where they catch mine. “I know how you feel,” I murmur. “I feel like I’ve spent the entire weekend wet, red-hot, ready to jump you any second you’ll let me.”
“Which is any second you want,” he points out.
“What is this? Why do we feel this so quickly?” I murmur, my voice dropping lower.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop. I want you, Clove. I want to be with you. When you showed up downstairs with that… that…” His face twists into an ugly expression, a scowl. “That fucking disrespectful asshole who followed you home. I wanted to tear his throat out for touching you. For trying to use you.”
I lean down to feather a kiss along his jaw, but he turns his head and catches my lips with his, kisses me hard and deep. “Nobody else touches me,” I promise as I draw back, just far enough to meet his eyes. “Nobody but you.”
He smiles, a soul-deep smile that catches my eyes, sets me on fire. “Because you’re mine, Clove. And I’m yours.”
“Mine to do with as I wish,” I point out, spreading my fingers wide and wrapping my hand around his cock in earnest this time, clutching him tight enough to feel his velvet-smooth skin under my fingertips, and the hard steel of his shaft beneath.
“And what do you wish to do to me, Clove?” Zayne’s eyebrows rise, those blue eyes of his fixed on mine, all heat underneath and ice on top, like he could burn and chill me all at once. He does, in fact, quite frequently.
I tighten my grip on his cock and begin to slide my hand up and down his shaft, my own smile widening. “I want to make you come so hard you forget your own name,” I murmur.
He smirks and tilts his body, curving his hips up toward my hand to give me easier access to him. “If anybody can make me lose control, Clove, it’s you.”
I don’t need more invitation than that. It’s already hard enough to resist the sight of his thick, swollen cock, and the scent of sweat and sex that hangs heavy in the room. His scent drives me mad—I never much thought about hormones before, but now I realize how real they are, how crazy the scent of his makes me. I lean down to kiss around the base of his cock, letting his shaft brush against my cheek, my forehead, my hair, as I circle him. His cock jumps again, the muscles tensed, out of his control now. Just the way I like.
I duck my head between his thighs to lick his balls, one at a time. He tastes amazing, hot and heady with a touch of salt, and an underlying flavor that’s all him, more addictive than anything I’ve ever tasted before. I suck one of his balls between my lips, close my lips around him and roll it along my tongue. He moans faintly, just a soft