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Every inch of his skin quivered under her touch. His cock was so heavy and full it hurt, the ache reaching deep into his belly, through his hips, up his spine.
“I want to see you, too,” he managed to gasp. Though he’d miss the view of her tits encased in her snug, scanty top, like gift wrap, he wanted to see what that wrapping covered.
Her smile went lopsided, stretching slyly up one cheek as she grabbed the hem of her top and freed herself from it. When it came off, she gave her head a sexy shake, sending her hair swirling around her shoulders. She tossed the scrap of cloth away.
Her hair was long and straight enough to cover her breasts, the ends curling just below, as if to hold them. Zaxx pushed the dark mass back over her shoulders and held them himself.
They were substantial, but not disproportional. Dark areolae, each about the size of a poker chip, canted slightly upward, as if making an offer. Zaxx took them up on it and bent down to pull one into his mouth.
Gia arched back and threw her arms around his head. The sound that erupted from her, deep enough that he felt its vibration in her nipple, against his tongue, nearly dropped him to his knees.
Why were they still on their goddamn feet? Grabbing her in his arms, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth, he turned them and brought her down to her bed. The bounce of their bodies on the mattress, the cool puff of the comforter around them, served as a signal that seduction was over. The prologue was at an end; now the real story began.
Gia went wild beneath him, and Zaxx matched her move for move. She pulled his hair, raked her nails down his back, snatched at his jeans. He hooked an arm around her leg, pulling it up high, settling between her thighs, heat to heat. When he dragged his mouth over her chest, heading for her other nipple, she grabbed his head and pulled him up to claim his mouth. He broke away, going for her neck, and she bit down on his shoulder.
Somehow, with no intention he could recall, they were nearly naked, his jeans open and halfway down his thighs, her leather pants open and his hand deep into the fly, under a lacy scrap of underwear, his fingers scalded by her wet heat. Her hips flexed and ground against his hand; her hands pulled at his hair, scratched his scalp. Her pants were tight, and the zipper dug into the back of his hand.
He was wearing Docs, and she had skin-tight leather pants on. At some point, together they came to the hazy understanding that they’d gone as far as they could mindlessly go.
Zaxx pulled back, resting on his arms above her, panting, his heart beating so hard his vision shook. Gia lay dazed and fiery-flushed beneath him, her hair a wild bramble around her beautiful face, her lips swollen and gleaming.
There was a thin scar at her hairline, usually covered by the long bangs around her face. He remembered the night she’d gotten the wound that had left the scar behind—a few Christmases past, when the whole town had worried they might have lost her.
He traced the faint line with his fingertips; she turned her head away. He moved his hand from her face, letting it rest instead on the bed.
When she looked at him again, she didn’t remark on that touch or her rejection of it. She smiled wryly up at him like it hadn’t happened.
Her chuckle was so breathless it sounded like a cough. “We’re not gonna get these pants off me like this.”
He laughed, too. “And I need to unlace my boots before I can get my jeans off.”
“Ripping each other’s clothes off is always hotter in fiction than in reality.” She started to sit up.
“I don’t know, this is pretty fucking hot.”
Her answer came with a sassy smirk. “Very fucking hot. But also awkward.”
“Agreed.” Zaxx backed off and sat beside her on the bed to start taking his boots off. She unzipped hers and kicked them away. They were plain black and a low heel. He thought nothing of them until they hit the floor, and he saw the silver triangle near the top of one: Prada.
Their shared connection to the Horde made a lot about their lives similar, but not everything.
She stood up, and he watched her wriggle out of those very excellent pants, the contoured muscles of her core flexing so beautifully his mouth watered. Jesus, look at her. Strength and beauty. Steel and satin.
When she rid herself of her pants, the first thing he noticed was more black-and-grey ink. A horse’s head, as finely detailed as an oil painting, took up most of the front and outer side of her firm right thigh.
Then she turned to drop her pants where she’d dropped her top, and Zaxx got his first glimpse of her bare ass.
He liked everything about the female body, and he enjoyed a wide range of bodies. But he was, first and foremost, an ass man. Gia’s ass perfection. Tight and pert and rounded, curving gently to that slim waist. He’d known that since he’d first seen her, but now he was first seeing her naked, and holy shit. She even had those excellent dimples right below her waist, perfect little ovals, and a little dark mole beneath one.
Freed of the rest of his clothes, Zaxx slid off the bed to his knees behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed that tiny dot.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he muttered against her hot skin. Feeling her hand on his head, he looked up; she’d twisted her upper body and looked down at him, her expression soft and warm, but serious. He could sense a barrage of thoughts flooding her, surging toward him, but couldn’t reach far enough to understand.
Then she turned completely in his arms, and he stopped trying to understand. Right before him was her beautiful pussy, framed with neatly trimmed dark hair. He could smell her arousal, rich and sweet and earthy, like honey straight from the hive. He couldn’t help but lean in and taste.
She moaned, low and deep, and pressed her body to his mouth, relaxing her thighs enough to give him full access. Her hands landed on his head, her fingers tangled around long strands of his hair.
Zaxx clamped his hands over her hips and settled in to feed.
