Destroyed(62)

“Concentrate on me touching you. Never stop focusing on my grip.”

I struggled to keep my eyes open as my stomach fluttered and my quads tensed to granite. Her gaze locked with mine, clouding with desire.

Another groan erupted from my mouth as her fingers tightened, moving up and down in an endless rhythm determined to shatter my brain. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Fox.” Her grip twisted around my dick, adding a new sensation.

My eyes wanted to slam closed, but I didn’t dare lose myself completely. I might hurt her. I might kill her. “I can feel how hard I am. How much I want to f*ck you.”

“No. Focus inside. What do you feel?”

Fuck, I didn’t like delving into feelings. And I sure as hell didn’t want to share them with Hazel.

“Do it.” Her hand cupped the tip of me, pressing down, swirling moisture that appeared from nowhere. Shooting stars and earthquakes took up residence in my stomach, needing to release.

“Oh, my God, woman. I’m going to come.”

Her grip immediately softened, letting the orgasm fade. “Not till you tell me how you feel.”

Goddammit. “I feel torn into pieces that will never fit together. I have so much inside, I just wish I could hit a reboot button and forget about everything until the second you started jerking me off. I was taught to ignore right and wrong. I’m a f*cking mess.”

Her hand increased its pressure, rewarding me. “Do you want me to stop?” she murmured.

I wanted to say yes. Tell her it wasn’t safe, that she’d pushed me too hard, but I had no willpower left. None. Gone. Non-existent. “No.”

Her fingers wrapped harder, stroking me, pumping me. Blood flowered thicker, filling my cock with an eager heat until I blazed for more. I shifted my hips, giving her better access. I wanted to be inside her. I couldn’t take much more of her possessive grip.

Zel didn’t move or touch me apart from my cock, and I was eternally grateful she kept her distance. But at the same time I was pissed off, annoyed, and wanted so badly to take control.

With her free hand, she inched the waist band of my trousers down my hips, never stopping her mind-bending stroking.

I raised my hips for her to pull the material off. Inch by inch, she slid the ruined trousers further. I didn’t care about her touching me. I didn’t care that more scars were on display.

All I cared about were the sparks and tingling tightness in my lower belly and dick. The conditioning lost its power over me. Everything ceased to exist but her.

The moment the trousers slid off my ankles, she knelt lower between my legs and squeezed. “I’m going to kiss you.”

My eyes shot wide, shattering the spell she’d put me under. The urge to grab her neck pulsed behind my eyes. I couldn’t handle her kissing me. I’d lose it.

“No. Don’t.”

Her tongue darted out, pink and wet. “Not on the lips,” she whispered. Her thumb caressed the highly sensitive tip of my cock, pressing against the hot flesh. “I’m going to kiss you. Here.”

Oh, my f*cking God.

Never in my life had anything sounded so good. So f*cking deliciously good. Never before had lips ever come close to that part of my anatomy.

I ceased to know how to speak. I nodded once, eyes wide, muscles tight.

She licked her lips, sending a thrill right through my heart.

The anticipation of her licking me, tonguing me, made my cock lurch in her fingers. Dropping her eyes, she bent over. The anticipation was too much. I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.

I waited endlessly for the first sweep of her tongue.

But then she stopped.

Sitting upright, she released her hold on me. My heart bucked in my chest as she stood up and moved to the side of the bed where I’d placed the leather cuff.

Holding it up, she said, “I’m going to put this on you. I want to give you pleasure but I refuse if I can’t restrain you.” Her voice wobbled; her body flushed with lust, same as mine. Her eyes fell to my straining cock, standing stiff and hot and begging for her mouth. The connection between us throbbed with rightness. Whatever we were doing was perfect. Whatever she was doing was working. I was healing.

I nodded.

Without a word, she padded back and waited for me to put one arm against the metal tree headboard. Doing her best not to touch me while securing the leather, I risked everything by leaning forward and placing a simple kiss on a darkening bruise on her neck. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, breathing in her subtle scent of Lily of the valley.

She pulled away. “I know.” Disappearing into my wardrobe, she came back with a belt. Her eyebrow raised, looking at my other hand. I kept my palms curled, hiding the III tattooed in the centre.

I obediently placed my wrist against the bedhead, hissing as she straddled me, deliberately brushing her jean-clad * against my extremely hard cock.

She tightened the belt before resuming her kneeling position between my splayed legs. Her hot breath tickled my upper thighs, and I didn’t know how much longer I could wait.

I wanted her mouth. Terribly.

“Tell me what you want,” she said softly.

I shook my head. It was one thing to accept what she wanted to give, but I couldn’t tell her what I wanted. Not after everything. I owed her more than I’d ever be able to repay.

“I want to hear you say it.” Her eyes flashed and her fingers squeezed me in warning.