Fuck me sideways.
His cock is hard, the tip reddened and the veins prominent, and it nearly sends me to my knees with a prayer on my tongue. He’s fucking glorious, and my heart wrenches with the reminder that this man-no, this
God
-is mine.
He straightens, and I try to tell myself to drink him in slowly.
Small sips, Addie. Savor him.
But I can’t keep my greedy eyes from eating up the expanse of his physique, lingering specifically below his waist.
I haven’t forgotten how terrifying Zade’s cock is. Yet every time, it feels like a punch in the chest to see it in the flesh, knowing he has to fit that inside of me.
My mouth salivates when I recall the burn from him stretching me and how he’d have to work himself inside of me. Fuck, it’s just like being addicted to the pain of getting a tattoo. Every bite of the needle you want to run away, but you stay because the outcome is pure fucking bliss.
Giving me a loaded look, he walks to the dresser and digs something out of the drawer. Jesus, his backside is almost as mouth-watering as the front. My lungs close, and I’m no longer breathing.
The sound of metal is what finally pulls my attention away from his body. He’s advancing toward me, holding black handcuffs, and the sight sends my heart skipping like a rock across the surface of a lake.
I take a big step back. Most men would pause when they see hesitation, but Zade doesn’t falter as he approaches me.
“What are you doing with those?” I ask, alarm building in my chest.
“Don’t worry, baby, these are for me.”
Meeting his stare, I’m instantly soothed. A range of emotions swirl in his black and white pools. Desire, love, and wicked intent. But he’s so damn calm, and that’s what makes me feel calm.
Furrowing my brow, I watch him hold out the handcuffs and key to me, but I don’t take them yet.
“What are you planning?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Didn’t I tell you before that you don’t need a cop to get me in handcuffs? I said I’d let you do anything you want to me, and that’s what I’m doing.”
I’m not sure why I’m so surprised to hear that. He’s made it clear I hold the power but seeing him physically hand it to me is still jarring.
Licking my lips, I hesitantly grab them and place the key on the nightstand. The second I do, he turns around once more, showing me the massive octopus tattooed across his back, the tentacles unfurling up to his shoulders and neck.
Some nights, I trace each line while he sleeps, familiarizing myself with the feel of his skin when he’s not demanding it of me.
Just like those late nights, I brush my fingers over the fine details in the octopus, marveling over the talent that went into this piece.
The muscles in his back ripple from my touch, and I can’t help but feel invigorated by the effect I have on him.
Enjoying his reaction, I tease him. Trailing the pads of my fingers lightly down his back, his arms, and to his hands. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and I bite back a smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this man get something as trivial as goosebumps. It’s a normal human reaction, but when has Zade ever acted like anything less than a deity?
I tighten the handcuffs around his wrists, inhaling sharply when he turns again and stands before me. Persephone imprisoning Hades-it’s too sweet not to salivate over.
“You’ll let me do anything I want to you?” I reiterate, hesitant to believe it. Seeing him so… defenseless-my brain can’t quite process it.
His eyes darken, and his grin slips. “You’ve always been an atheist to my word. You’re incapable of believing in something you can’t see and lack faith because you’re blind to what’s right in front of you. I’m yours to command-I always have been. You just need to see it to finally believe it.”
Clearing my throat, I whisper, “Sit on the bed.”
Without hesitation, he steps back and slowly sits down, keeping his legs spread. My eyes gravitate between them again, and my heart flutters like a hummingbird’s wings, equally transfixed and intimidated.
Forcing myself to focus, I grip the bottom of my nightie and pull it over my head, keeping my pace slow and torturous. Zade hums his approval deep in his chest, and it gives me a boost of courage. Enough to slip my panties down my thighs and step out of them.
There’s never a sexy way to do it, but the way Zade’s eyes hungrily eat up my body, it feels like I just performed a highly skilled trick on a stripper pole. In reality, I’d break my neck attempting that.
“Get on the bed and kneel,” I tell him, tipping my chin up to direct him. He grins but does as I say, climbing on the bed with a panther’s grace. He sits back on his heels with his knees spread, and more than anything, I want to take a picture of him so I can look back at it when we’re old and gray and neither of us are even capable of sex anymore.
Strips of moonlight and the soft glow from the sconces accentuate the hard planes of his chest and abs, highlighting each muscle straining against his skin.
Only the devil can wield the shadows around his body with such divinity. A devil and a God-two opposing forces that make up one contradicting being.
Licking my lips with anticipation, I crawl onto the bed and then onto his lap, keeping my pussy suspended over the tip of his cock.
His lips whisper up the column of my neck, and I put my hands on his shoulders to not only balance myself but to keep him controlled.
My core throbs when a deep rumble vibrates throughout my hands, building as I deliberately brush my hardened nipples against his face. Right when he goes to bite down, I pull away, increasing the tremors shaking his body.
His head tips back until our eyes clash. I shiver from the uncaged lust spearing from his gaze. He looks at me like he’s only biding his time. Doing my bidding for now until the second I unlock those handcuffs.
In the blink of an eye, he’ll snap, striking like a viper. My throat in his hands and my heart between his teeth.
I feel the fear pulsating in my clit, heightening my heart rate to dangerous levels.
“You think you’re broken now, Adeline? Wait until you free me from these confines,” he threatens, the deep timbre of his voice lined with sharp glass. “I’ll fuck you until every single one of your bones breaks beneath me. Helpless little mouse, for me to mold and manipulate.”
He’s deliberately trying to scare me, knowing how much my body sings for the terror he instills in me.
Instinctively, I want to run from his terrifying promises and the creeping trepidation that he’s going to do just that. I also want to challenge him so he can make good on them.
My heart thrashes against my rib cage, but I don’t break his stare. Biting my lip, I reach between us and grab ahold of his length, delighting in the way his top lip curls into a snarl.
And then, ever so slowly, I slide the tip along my slit, wetting him before lowering myself increment by minuscule increment, until there’s no discerning which of us is trembling.
I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, molding my soft curves into his harsh lines, and slowly work him inside me. It feels just as I remembered-the burning as he stretched me wide, but the insatiable bliss that accompanies it.
My demons are tickling the back of my brain, begging to be let in to wreak havoc on my sanity. Drag me from this precious moment where I reclaim something that was stolen from me. So, I focus every ounce of my attention on the man beneath me.
His thinning breath, the building earthquake racking his body, and the veins pulsing in his neck as he fights to keep still.
I nudge my lips against the shell of his ear, that heady sense of power arising up through my throat and off my tongue.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.