Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
I cup his chin so I can press a kiss to his lips, a long, lingering one that also says us.
When Zane’s trembling from my slow, seductive kiss, he breaks away from me. He shakes off the fog of lust in his eyes, then switches gears.
Taking over.
With a cocky smile, he regards my face, my chest, my body. “Look at you, my sexy, smart-mouthed man who threw down for me tonight. You got me so fucking hot when you said you were driving me to my hotel. When you told Trace you’d deal with him tomorrow. When you just up and left with me. You’ve been turning me on since I arrived.” He coasts his mouth along my jawline, murmuring sweet nothings as he goes. When he reaches my ear, he says, “And now I have this whole scene playing out in my head.”
Sparks race down my body. Scene. This man knows me too well. “Tell me.”
“To get dirty, we’re gonna need to get wet…” he begins, then we work out the rest of the details.
Hot water beats down on us. Zane crowds me against the black tiled wall in the shower as he roams his hands down my chest. “Gonna drive you crazy tonight,” he rasps out.
“News flash—you already are,” I say, gesturing to my aching cock, pointing at him.
“Mmm,” he hums, wrapping a fist around my shaft, stroking lightly. I shudder, indulging in his touch once again. As he plays with me, his eyes travel around the shower to the shelf that holds my shampoo and soap. There, he finds the glow-in-the-dark dildo I put there before we got in, along with lube. Letting go of my dick, he presses the toy into my palm. “Put it on the wall. That’s how you do it when you think of me, right? You like to jerk your cock while you fuck the dildo?”
His dark gaze holds mine knowingly.
Like I’d even try to lie about desire. “Yes. You fuck me in my shower sessions,” I admit without shame, only arousal.
Taking the toy, I find the right height in seconds and push it against the wall. But before I can turn, his hand comes around me, covers the toy, slicking it up with lube. Then, his palms slide down my ass. “Close your eyes, Mad,” he tells me.
I comply.
There’s the click of the bottle. The drizzle of lube. His fingers pressing into me. I groan from the intrusion, but seek him out in a dirty bedroom rhythm.
“Yesss,” he grunts approvingly, then he eases out and spins me to face him.
“Line up and fuck that toy for me,” he says, sliding his fist down his shaft as he stares wickedly at my body.
I back up, reach behind me, and guide the toy home.
His mouth parts. “Fucking yes,” he says, then everything happens in a flash. He drops to his knees, grips my hips, and kisses the tip of my dick. “Treat that toy like it’s my dick,” he urges me. “Put on a show.”
I’ve missed his dick so much. I’ve missed all of him. I swivel my hips, my body shuddering, my hands curling around his shoulders. It’s so good to hold onto him while I do this.
While I show Zane my want.
My sex drive. How it matches his.
“Harder. Need to see exactly how much you missed me,” he says, reading my mind, reading my heart.
“Missed you so much,” I groan as I thrust faster on the toy for him, savoring the pressure, the stretch.
He drops another tantalizing kiss to my crown, sucking on the head. “Mmm. I think you deserve to get fucked and sucked at the same damn time by the man you missed,” he says, then hauls more of me into his mouth, sucking fervently. Soon we find a decadent rhythm here in the dark and the steam of the shower. Sounds of sex mingle with the patter of the water, the heat of the rainfall.
Zane digs his fingers into my hips while his mouth lavishes decadence on my length.
I’m caught up in the sensations spinning through me—his tongue, the toy, his hands. I can’t stand much more. I’m too intoxicated. My arousal owns me, but I need to last for what we’ve planned. “If you don’t stop, I’ll come,” I warn.
He pops off, then rises, maneuvering me off the toy. When I’m free of it, he clasps my face, meets my gaze. “This is us. This is how we fuck. And I love it.”
All I can do is answer with a guttural, me too, before he claims my mouth in a passionate kiss that’s a promise of what’s to come.
The setting is fitting. Work always came between us. Eventually, I let my obsession with it break us.
Tonight, the only business in this home is pleasure.
In my home office, he’s tied me to a black chair at my desk, binding my wrists to the arms with the sapphire tie I wore the first day in Venice and the burgundy one from the night I met him.