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When he removes his fingers from my pussy, I groan, missing his touch. Z moves above me, rolling me onto my back as he traps me between him and the mattress. I can see the heat burning in his eyes just before he moves in for a kiss of lovers. I revel in the way he surrounds me, making me feel both protected and cherished.
Z breaks our kiss long enough to pull my camisole up and off, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. His lips abandon my mouth to feast on my nipples—sucking, nipping, teasing until I feel like I’m going to combust if he doesn’t take me soon.
Impatient, I groan out a tortured, “Z.”
When he freezes, I worry I’ve broken the spell weaving us together. Holding my breath, I wrap my legs around his waist in an attempt to keep him against me, but he breaks free.
Kneeling up in the bed between my spread legs, Z reaches for my panties, ripping them from my body with a low growl that makes my pussy spasm with anticipation.
I’ve wanted this moment for so long that it feels surreal when I look between our bodies to watch Z sliding the tip of his shaft through my slit, coating himself with my juices. Our eyes are locked on each other as he glides inside me, filling me completely in one smooth stroke. Watching his dark eyes melt into a pool of lustful need almost makes me come on the spot.
Our bodies move together perfectly, as if we’d practiced this dirty dance before. Each stroke of his cock touches me deeper until I cry out in ecstasy when his shaft hits my hidden target perfectly. Z crashes his mouth back to my lips, swallowing my cry of pleasure as his tongue plunges into my mouth as his cock does inside my pussy. Again and again, he takes me with his lips, his tongue, his erection… until an orgasm rips through my body, helping to dampen just a bit of the fire he’s stoked inside me.
But it’s not enough. Not even close.
When my brain comes back online after the sex induced reboot, my first thought is of how different this is from what I’d expected from the bad boy of The Whitney. Knowing what he does for a living, I’d expected him to be rough… to take what he wanted, but considering my recent brush with violence, I’m grateful for his tenderness, even if it does leave me still hungry for more.
The thought is barely out of my brain when Z kneels up between my legs. His cock juts out, reminding me that he isn’t done yet. Z works silently, repositioning me by hooking his arms under my knees before lunging forward, folding my body in half over itself as his cock bottoms out deep inside me.
“Christ, you’re so tight…” he grinds out against my ear, pressing my body into the worn mattress again as he takes his pleasure—chasing his own completion with long strokes that reignite my own desire.
My eyes are closed, letting my body absorb every touch—every thrust—every sound of our bodies coming together again and again.
“Open your eyes, baby,” he says, pausing long enough to give me time to comply. The tenderness in his gaze is so unexpected, but welcome because I get a front row seat to watching him tip into his own orgasm, my name on his lips.
His body blankets me when he collapses, short of breath. Playing the role of gentleman, he rolls to his back, pulling me along with him until I’m using his chest for my pillow, his shaft still inside me.
We lie like that long enough that the silence starts to get awkward. When his now soft penis slips from my body, releasing a warm, wet mess, I finally lift my body up to look down at Z. The smile I have plastered on my face slips the second I recognize the regret in his gaze.
“I’m sorry. That was a mistake.”
I want to throat punch him. It’s bad enough he’s apologizing for something we should be reveling in, but his anguished tone of voice insults me.
“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on that one,” I huff, agitated enough that I push away from him. It hurts that he doesn’t try to keep me close.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh? Just how did you mean it then?”
“I’m working. I can’t let my head lose sight of what’s at stake here.”
I’ve never been a weepy person, so the tears stinging my eyes piss me off. I swallow the lump in my throat before I answer with a snappy, “So I’m just a job. Got it.”
When he doesn’t correct me, I roll away from him, pushing to my feet on the other side of the bed. Even though we’d tried to clean up the dilapidated cabin the day before, I can feel the dust under my bare feet. There’s only so much we can do with the resources we have.
