Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(29)

I glanced at my hand like it was some alien part of me. I had never slapped anyone in my life. Not even the person that had treated me to the same violence I had just unleashed. I glanced back up at Zane, whose eyes were locked on me. They seemed to be dancing with something; his entire frame was locked still.

And then, for some insane reason, I pounced. I latched onto his mouth once more, like a junkie looking for a hit. My legs circled his hips and rough hands gripped my ass to lift me against him. I moaned as my nightie rode up, leaving my panties as the only barrier between me and his jean-clad cock.

One hand went to my ass, the other delved into my hair, pressing me to his mouth. I struggled to shrug off the flannel I was wearing as he carried us through the house. I didn’t care where we were going as long as we would be horizontal.

We suddenly stopped. Zane grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. It was rough, but not painful.

He searched my face, his eyes glittering. “You are not a whore. Do not ever refer to yourself as one again, or I’ll tan your ass,” he growled.

I didn’t have time to respond because he threw me onto a bed. Yes, threw. Like bodily. It was a soft landing, obviously, and the view was fricking bomb. Zane had pulled his tee off and was unbuckling his jeans. Before I knew it he was standing before me, gloriously naked, the colors of his ink rippling over his muscled body. Unfortunately, I barely had time for a mental snapshot, let alone to commission an oil painting.

His hands pushed my silk nightie up to my waist, his face burying itself between my legs. I felt him tenderly kiss me atop my panties, which was a stark contrast to the ferocious way he had kissed me earlier. His hands moved and yanked my panties down, and suddenly he was there. My whole body tightened at the shaft of pleasure that erupted with his mouth on me.

“Even sweeter than I imagined,” he said roughly before his mouth covered me once more.

My hands bunched into the sheets as he ate me like a starving man. It was relentless, brutal, and my climax overtook me with the same intensity. I screamed, and Zane’s mouth covered mine, the taste of me on his lips enough to prolong my ecstasy.

I was barely containing the aftershocks when I felt him at my entrance. His hard body was pressed above mine, although I knew he wasn’t giving me his full weight. His eyes met mine. “You on something?” he asked tightly.

“On?” I repeated dreamily.

“Pill, babe. You on it?” He grunted, sounding like he was holding himself back.

“Yes.”

I barely had the word out of my mouth before he surged into me. I cried out once more as he pounded my sensitive flesh. I circled my legs around him, clenching him closer to me.

“Harder,” I whispered hoarsely.

He grunted and I was lifted as he went to his knees, my legs still circled around him. His hands bit into my ass, the pads of his fingers pressing so hard it bordered on pain. My nails raked his back in response.

“My little wildcat,” he murmured, not stopping his thrusts.

I moaned as I felt myself build again, this angle making him fill me to the brim.

Zane clutched the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine. His eyes locked onto mine, his stare never wavering as he pounded into me. “Come again, Wildcat,” he commanded.

As if his words had magical orgasm giving powers, my world shattered for a second time and I saw stars. I vaguely noted his body stiffen as he had his release.

After a beat, he lowered us both down back onto the bed, his body covering mine. He didn’t give me his full weight; I could tell by the way he held himself. One of his hands moved to my face to tenderly brush a wayward strand of hair away. He frowned at the strand as if it had wronged him in some way.

I waited. For the shutters on his eyes to close. For the confusing tenderness to disappear and be replaced by cold indifference, or even straight up hostility. It didn’t come; he merely framed my face, staring at me, not saying a word.

“This is it,” he said finally.

“What?” I asked quietly, still bracing for a verbal blow.

His hand moved to span my hip. I marveled at how large it was compared to me. I wasn’t what you’d call petite in that area, thanks to the fact I had birthed a child. But those hands made me look positively tiny.

“This.” His hand tightened on my hip once more and my eyes moved to meet his. “Is all I can give you, all I am capable of giving you,” he continued. “Nothing more.”

Realization flooded through me at his grunted sentence. Sex. He was talking about sex. That was all this was. I inwardly flinched. I couldn’t say how I felt about the infuriating giant. He was complicated, maddening, and terrifying. I wasn’t even sure if I liked him. But any guy telling you he only wanted you for sex was bound to cause a sting.

“You mean like, friends with benefits type of situation?” I asked slowly.

He regarded me, his face blank. “We’re not friends,” he stated simply.

Ouch. Another verbal blow.

“There is no way I could be your friend. No way I could spend an extended amount of time in your presence without ripping all your clothes off and burying myself in your sweet cunt. I couldn’t have you around me and not be able to touch you.” His hand snaked up to cup my breast. “Taste you,” he continued, his head moving to suck on my nipple.

I shivered as he pulsed, still inside me.