I look at him.
I’m furious about Gregor. About the council knowing. About rival factions with my background. About all of it.
His thumb moves once along my cheekbone. I cover his hand with mine and hold it there. For a long moment, we simply look at each other.
The weight of everything he just told me still sits thick in the air between us. Gregor. The leak. The threat. All the choices he made without me.
I’m still so angry with him. But under that anger is something deeper and more dangerous. I feel safe with him. I feel seen by him. And right now, that feeling is stronger than my fury.
Zane leans in and kisses me. The kiss is slow and deep. His lips are warm and firm as they move against mine.
I kiss him back just as hungrily, my fingers sliding into his hair. He makes a low sound in his throat, almost a growl, and pulls me tighter against him.
“Fuck, Celine,” he murmurs against my mouth, voice rough. “I need you.”
He lifts me off the counter, strong hands under my thighs. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me out of the kitchen and into the living room, still kissing me the entire way. Our breathing is already ragged.
He lowers me onto the massive sectional couch, the deep cushions sinking beneath us. Zane settles between my spread thighs, his heavy body pressing me down as he kisses me again, harder this time.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, voice low. His hands move to my blouse, unbuttoning it slowly. “Been thinking about touching you all night.”
He pushes the blouse off my shoulders and unhooks my bra with practiced fingers. When my breasts spill free, he groans deeply and lowers his head. His mouth closes around one nipple, sucking hard as his tongue swirls around it.
I moan loudly, arching into him. He grunts against my skin and switches to the other breast, sucking and biting gently while his hand squeezes the first one.
“Zane…” I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders.
He kisses his way down my stomach, breathing hard. His hands slide under my skirt and drag my underwear and skirt down mylegs in one motion. He tosses them aside and spreads my thighs wide, kneeling on the rug in front of the couch.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust.
He leans in and drags his tongue slowly through my folds. I cry out, my hand flying to his hair. He groans loudly against me, the vibration sending sparks through my body.
He licks me again, slower, savoring, then focuses on my clit with firm, rhythmic strokes. Two thick fingers slide inside me, curling perfectly as he sucks on my clit.
“Oh god,” I moan, hips rolling against his mouth. My thighs are already starting to shake.
Zane grunts and fucks me deeper with his fingers, his tongue working my clit without mercy. His free hand grips my thigh hard, holding me open. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers fill the living room along with my broken moans.
“That’s it,” he growls against me. “Let me hear you, baby. Come on my tongue like a good girl.”
The pleasure builds fast and overwhelming. My legs tremble violently around his shoulders. I cry out louder, gripping his hair tighter as the orgasm crashes through me. I scream his name, back arching hard off the couch while intense waves of pleasure roll through my body.
Zane keeps licking and fingering me through every pulse, groaning deeply like he can’t get enough of my taste, until I’m shaking and gasping for breath.
He rises from his knees, breathing hard, his mouth shiny with my arousal. His eyes are dark and hungry as he looks down at me. He quickly strips off the rest of his clothes. His cock is thickand hard, curving up against his stomach. The sight makes my stomach tighten with fresh need.
Zane climbs onto the couch and pulls me to the edge so my ass is right at the cushion’s lip. He grips my thighs, spreading me open, and lines himself up. The thick head of his cock presses against my entrance.
“Eyes on me,” he says, voice rough. “I want to watch you while I fuck you.”
He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, stretching me open. We both groan loudly at the feeling. When he bottoms out, he stays there for a moment, buried deep, letting me adjust. His forehead rests against mine, our breathing ragged and shared.
“Fuck, you feel perfect,” he whispers. “So tight. So wet. This pussy was made for me.”
He starts moving. Slow, deep, powerful thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside me.
I moan with every stroke, my hands clutching his back. He kisses me deeply, swallowing my sounds as he fucks me. One of his hands cradles the back of my neck while the other grips my hip, holding me exactly where he wants me.
