Page 21

Chapter 20

Merci

I splash hot water on my face, trying to warm up and give myself time to process everything Zach just told me. It explains so much. Like why he always seems so . . . robotic. Cold. Maybe even psychopathic. Now I know that’s far from the truth.

We should’ve had this conversation years ago. Things could’ve been different, even if just a bit. He might’ve forgiven me, and maybe I wouldn't have run away.

But trauma's a bitch. I built walls so high that even the best therapist needs a fucking ladder truck to scale them.

Not that our parents helped the situation. While I love my mom, right now, I really want to bitch slap her. Same goes for my stepfather.

As if “different” comes remotely close to what Zach deals with.

I swear, if anyone uses that word to describe him again, I’m going to throat-punch them .

Grabbing a toothbrush, I vigorously brush to chase away the lingering taste of strawberry milkshake and bile. Ugh, so nasty. After rinsing my mouth, I grab the small towel and pat my face dry while staring in the mirror.

My eyes are a bit red and puffy, but I look . . . lighter, as if confessing my past to Zach lifted a weight off my shoulders I didn't even know I was carrying.

I stop dead in my tracks when I walk back into my room. Zach's standing by my dresser, holding the collar he left here last time since I fell asleep still wearing it.

Rolling my eyes, I stroll over and take it from him. "Nosy much?"

“Your drawer was open."

"And what, you just decided to take a peek?" I tilt my chin up, quirking a brow. "What if I had a collection of dragon dildos in there?"

“Would’ve been fun to play with.” He steps closer, looming over me, but he wears his signature lopsided smirk. "You've got quite a mouth on you today. Maybe I should do something about that."

"Oh, yeah? Going to gag me?"

He jerks back, his entire body going rigid, his chest rising and falling just a little too quickly. "No gags. Hard limit. "

Obviously something we should talk about. Only so I can understand, not to persuade him to do something he is uncomfortable with.

After placing the collar back into the drawer—because he doesn’t have to know I occasionally wear it around the dorm . . . for reasons—I take his hand into mine. "No toys. Just you."

He nods, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer. Then his mouth claims mine. The kiss is deep, desperate, like he's trying to devour me whole. And fuck if I don't want to let him.

I reach up and tangle my fingers in his hair. He groans—a low, guttural sound that makes my knees weak.

We stumble backward as we kiss, tearing our clothes off and discarding them haphazardly. When the backs of my thighs hit the mattress, Zach pushes me down and drops to his knees, throwing my legs over his shoulders.

He kisses and bites my inner thighs as I writhe, eyes closed and biting my bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

“Grab the back of your knees, Merci.”

The moment they’re pulled toward my chest, he spreads my cheeks and licks over my hole.

"Holy fuck." My back arches off the bed, nails digging into the skin of my legs .

His tongue circles my hole, teasing and tasting, flicking against the sensitive skin. When his mouth closes over it, sucking hard, I cry out, my head thrashing from side to side.

“Zach . . . fu-fuck. . .”

His tongue delves deep, curling and stroking my walls until my body trembles and my balls draw up tight. I fist his hair with one hand and grind shamelessly against his face as he continues to eat me out. “Please, I need . . . your dick. Now. Fuck me. Please."

"Greedy, Little Scorpion," he says, getting onto the bed and positioning himself between my legs.

But as much as I want him to fill me, I press my hands against his chest, stopping him. "Wait."

He sits back on his heels, brows furrowing. "What's wrong?"

"We need a condom." I lift onto my elbows, biting my bottom lip. "I haven't been tested in a while and . . . you know, I've slept with people for money and . . . "

My voice trails off, and I hold my breath, waiting for the rejection I’m sure is coming. Because, while it may be dirty talk when he calls me a whore . . . I actually am one.

Or was.

But instead of walking out, his eyes darken, and he growls—actually fucking growls. "No one else gets this hole ever again. Only me. "

The tension in my body eases, and a shaky laugh escapes before I can stop it. "Possessive much?"

“Just stating the truth."

Shaking my head, I reach for my nightstand, fumbling around until I grab a condom and bottle of lube. Tearing open the wrapper, I roll the latex onto his dick, paying special attention to his piercings. My fingers trace each metal bar, drawing out soft grunts from him that cause the muscles in my lower belly to tighten.

"You like playing with those, Little Scorpion?" His breath hitches as I continue exploring the metal adornments with careful touches, and I can't help but smirk.

"Maybe I do."

“Two can play at that game.” He retaliates by tugging on my Prince Albert piercing, and I moan desperately as precum drips from my dick. His gray eyes darken, a predatory smile playing at his lips.

He takes the bottle of lube and slicks himself. Once done, he tries to push me back down, but I resist.

"No. Claustrophobia, remember? Don't like being underneath."

Zach maneuvers until he’s lying on his back, holding his dick at the base. "Then ride me."

I straddle his hips, positioning myself, then sink onto him slowly. The stretch burns in the best way, his piercings adding an extra layer of sensation that has my toes curling. When I'm fully seated, I roll my hips.

His jaw tightens, his fingers flexing against my skin. "Move.”

I ride him like a fucking demon, my thighs burning, sweat dripping down my spine as I bounce on him like a fucking pogo stick. His thick shaft stretches me wide while my achingly hard dick slaps against his abs.

Zach's hands are everywhere—pinching my nipples until I cry out, stroking my dick like he owns it, gripping my hips so hard there’s no way I won’t have bruises tomorrow. And fuck, I want them. I want him to mark me, to claim me.

"Fuck, Zach," I moan, my head falling back, hands splayed against his chest for balance. "Right there . . . don't stop . . ."

“Take every fucking inch, Merci.”

I slam down onto him, his dick hitting the spot inside that makes my toes curl. "Yes. Fuck yes."

He fucks up into me, his skin slapping off mine. I'm leaking all over him, my dick dripping like a fucking faucet. Everything inside coils tight, every move of my hips becoming more erratic.

Needing more, I wrap my hand around my dick, stroking in time with his thrusts .

"Come for me, Little Scorpion. Come all over my fucking chest."

With a cry, I explode, painting his skin as my body convulses, my ass clenching around his dick as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.

Zach fucks me through it, his thrusts wild and frantic until he goes over the edge shortly after.

I collapse onto him, our bodies slick with sweat and cum. His dick is still inside me, still hard, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath.

"Finally!"

Zach growls, the vibration rumbling through his chest to my cheek. "Feisty Mouse!"

Eli giggles from somewhere in the dorm.

"Your door needs to go back up," Zach mutters, running his fingers through my hair. "Or at least get a curtain. Some of my friends are into watching."

I prop my chin on his chest. "I'm not against a little exhibitionism."

He grumbles something under his breath as he carefully pulls out. I scoot off him and grab an old towel to wipe myself as he removes the condom and then tosses it into the nearby wastebasket. After, he grabs my shirt from the floor and wipes his chest clean .

“Oh, my god, asshole.” I crawl under the covers, lips pursed. “You couldn’t wait until I was done with the dirty towel?”

He looks at me over his shoulder, brow quirked before getting back into bed, turning on his side, then scooting back.

What the—

I’m rendered speechless as he pulls my arm over his waist, effectively making the six-foot-three jerk the inside spoon. My heart does that weird little flutter thing it likes to do for him. So, I nuzzle into his back, breathing in his scent.

Except a part of me isn’t content yet. "Zach, what are we? To each other, I mean."

He pulls my arm tighter around him, placing my palm on the center of his chest. "You're mine."