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“Oh, fuck,” I gasp, feeling his thickness rub me raw as he moves inside me, setting all my nerve endings on fire. “Zayn!”
He moves inside me, his hips pumping, his lips pressing kisses on the side of my face, shoulders, neck, my throat as I let out another helpless gasping noise.
Suddenly, I am picked up and tossed onto the bed, face down, my lower body dangling from the edge. Zayn’s hand is on my nape he holding me down, his cock inside me, burning me as he fucks me wildly now, all restraint gone.
“You’re so perfect, Eve. And you’re mine.” His words are a snarl as his cock jackhammers me, reaching places so deep that my heart quivers. He leans over me till his front is pressed against my back, his cheek to my cheek.
It is such an intimate position and my hands, now free of the shirt, scrabble at the bedsheet, needing purchase.
“It’s never felt like this before, has it?” he asks, demanding an answer, his voice tight, strained. “Not with anyone, except me.”
Of course not.
Nobody else could work my body like this.
I let out a sob as he draws out my pleasure like a taut string.
However, he isn’t satisfied, and he repeats, his voice harsh, “No one except me. Say it.”
There is such dark possessiveness in his voice and in my drunken haze, I adore it, I want it. I want him to possess me and own me and break me.
I want all of him.
“No one except you!”
Satisfied with that, I feel his free hand move lower to find my clit and rub it vigorously. “You’re so soaking wet. You’re loving this aren’t you?”
I mumble something unintelligent, nothing making sense except the way his body slaps against mine; his fat cock abuses my pussy, making me want to scream his name over and over again.
“Good girl.”
The same praise, this time spoken in such a worshipful tone, such wild awe and adoration in his voice, that it breaks me.
I fly apart at the hinges, and moments later, I feel him shudder as he gives in to his release.
Bodies heaving, trying to find our footing, I feel Zayn’s arms around me as he gathers me to him and climbing onto the bed, he pulls the covers over us as he presses light kisses on my face, my shoulders.
The intensity dying down, now he just loves me, using his actions to tell me I am okay, and the soft kisses, the way he strokes me down from the high, the way he broke me and the way he is now putting me back together with such tender care, I bury my face in his chest and just slip into the deepest sleep I have had in a while, feeling safe and protected.
13
Zayn
It is the sound of my cell phone that wakes me up, the scratchy noise that Agatha put there, and which, for the life of me, I can’t figure out how to remove.
One minute I was deeply asleep, the next I am wide awake, an odd feeling of something missing.
As I reach for the phone, I realize that Eve is no longer in my arms.
A brief touch to where she laid and the cold bed sheets tell me she’s been gone for a while.
Trying not to let that bother me, I answer the phone.
“Frank Mueller Donavon.”
Agatha sounds weary and yet energized at the same time. It takes me a heartbeat to connect the dots and figure out what she is talking about.
“Works for the Tattle Buzz, one of the actual authentic tabloid magazines.” I pull myself into a sitting position and lean against the wooden bedframe, hearing her sneer.
