Page 18 of Sacred Vow

TILLY

I ’m slammed against the back side of Caesar’s front door as Zephyr’s lips drop to my neck, his hands roaming over my needy body as I reach for his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Fuck, babe. I need your mouth on me,” Zephyr murmurs against my skin as I drop his shirt to the pristine tiles in the grand foyer of his father’s mansion. I reach for the front of his pants, already feeling his straining cock behind the material.

I grin, releasing the button and diving in to feel just how hard he is. “If I’m getting on my knees for you, you better be able to handle it,” I warn him, freeing him from the confines of his pants and pumping my fist up and down his impressive length.

“Oh, I can handle it.”

I laugh because I know damn well he can’t, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t give it the good old college try, and on the plus side, Zeph is a giver. If I drop to my knees for him, he’ll be sure to repay the favor, and that’s simply not an opportunity a girl should ever pass on.

Zeph groans as I work his cock, my fist roaming right to his tip before my thumb circles over him. “You sure?” I tease.

“Fuck, Tilly. If you don’t get on your damn knees and fuck me with your smart mouth right fucking now, I’m going to explode.”

“Oooh, I think I’d like to see that.”

“Tilly.”

I laugh, and as a sultry grin stretches across my lips, I drop to my knees between Zeph and the back of the front door. Then as he braces one hand against the heavy door and leans into me, I take his heavy cock, hold his delicious stare, and show him exactly what he’s in for.

My tongue rolls up the length of his cock before trailing right back to his tip and lapping up the small bead of moisture that waits for me.

He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth, and just as he reaches around me with his other hand and wraps my hair around his wrists, I open wide before closing my mouth around him and taking him right to the back of my throat.

“Awwww, fuck,” he grunts, his hips jolting forward and pushing right past my gag reflex.

My cheeks hollow out, and I quickly put him through his paces, giving him everything he didn’t know he was capable of taking, teasing and nipping as I massage his balls between my fingers.

My tongue never stops roaming over him as I clutch his base with my other hand, holding him firmly and working him in sync with my lips.

“Shit,” he groans, tightening his hold in my hair as if he could somehow take control. “I’m gonna come. If you don’t want to swallow me, then you better stop.”

Ha. I knew it wouldn’t take him long.

Pride swells in my chest as I keep going, not willing to pull away and forego the award for all my hard work, and not a moment later, Zeph comes hard, shooting his hot load into the back of my throat as his pleasure-filled stare remains locked on mine.

I swallow every last drop, and when he finally pulls back and releases his hold in my hair, all he can do is stare at me. “Where the fuck did you come from?” he murmurs, his chest heaving as I lick my lips and get back to my feet.

“Come on,” I tell him, stepping around him and leaving Zeph braced against the door with his dick hanging out. “I’m starved and you promised me a home-cooked meal.”

I make my way through Caesar’s home, and after passing through the living room, I hear Zeph finally catching up behind me, his dick happily packed back inside his pants. “I know I like to talk shit, but I know damn well that I never promised you I’d make a home-cooked meal.”

I spin around, walking backward and grinning back at the devil as I continue toward the kitchen. “The fact I can still taste your cum in my mouth means that when I tell you to get in the kitchen and make Momma a sandwich, your only response should be chicken or turkey.”

Zeph gapes at me, his jaw physically loosening. “Holy fucking shit. Is that what misogynistic bullshit feels like?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Goddamn,” he says, catching up to me as we step into the kitchen before meeting my stare with a twisted smirk and a boyish sparkle in his eye that makes me want to be his best friend for the rest of our natural lives. “Chicken or turkey?”

“Geez,” I say. “A girl gets tackled and forced to her knees before she even gets a hello at the door, then all she gets is a lame sandwich? Tough break.”

Zeph laughs and shakes his head. “Alright, your majesty. What’ll it be?”

“Call me a basic bitch, but I’d kill for a spaghetti bolognese.”

“Spaghetti. Really?” he questions. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“And?”

“And if I make you spaghetti now, you’re not going to be hungry at dinner time.”

“Well then,” I say, glancing across the kitchen to the old, vintage clock on the wall. “Then after I eat, it looks like you have roughly four hours to make sure my appetite returns in full force.”

Zeph glances at me, his gaze narrowed with a wicked curiosity. “That better not be a challenge you’re throwing down, young lady,” he says in a stupid southern accent, and honestly, all he’s missing is the cowboy hat for him to tip.

“It’s not a challenge,” I tell him. “It’s a necessary requirement.”

He laughs and shakes his head before striding toward the refrigerator. “In that case,” Zeph says, pointing toward the counter. “Plant your ass up there. You’re in charge of entertainment while I try not to burn my father’s house down.”

I shuffle up to the side of the counter before planting my palms against the cool Italian stone and hoisting my ass up onto it. “What kind of entertainment are we talking about?” I ask. “Am I setting up a camera and starting an OnlyFans, or are we googling two girls and a cup?”

Zephyr whips around, his eyes wide. “You know about two girls and a cup?”

I just grin, and his gaze becomes suspicious when he scoffs and shakes his head, getting back to what he’s doing. “You don’t know about two girls one cup.”

An hour later, I’m sitting across the dining table from Zephyr with my bowl of spaghetti bolognese completely demolished. “I’m surprised,” I tell him. “I was almost expecting that to kill me, but you can actually cook.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I had an interesting childhood. I learned from a young age that if I didn’t cook, I didn’t eat.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. I don’t know much about Caesar, but he doesn’t strike me as the neglectful parent, despite his willingness to cross lines. “Your dad didn’t feed you?”

“No, no. My mom,” he clarifies. “Dad wasn’t around back then. I was stuck with a mother who cared more for getting her next fix than making sure her kid was fed and bathed.”

Horror grips me. I know this shit happens all the time, but it’s so hard to wrap my head around.

I come from a home with two loving parents whose top priority was making sure I had everything I could ever need.

Even now, after being away at college the past four years, they call almost every day and insist on sending me care packages despite telling them that I’m a fully functioning adult who can take care of herself.

The idea of growing up without that . . . shit. It’s heavy.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t imagine—”

“Don’t sweat it,” he says, getting up and taking both of our bowls back to the kitchen.

“It was a long time ago, and the moment Dad could, he got me out of there, and now,” Zeph pauses and glances around at the impressive home he lives in.

“It’s funny how life has a way of hitting you with that UNO reverse card. ”

“Yeah, no shit,” I say as he starts making his way back over to me. “So, tell me. Did your stroll down struggle street shape you into a sympathetic, warm-hearted man with morals, or did you slide more into the entitled, frat-boy, trust fund baby lifestyle?”

Zeph lounges back in his seat at the head of the table and smirks at me.

“Oh, I like to think that my experiences have molded me into being quite the giving man,” he says.

“After all, I know what it’s like to feel that intense hunger, and now that I have the means to put someone out of their misery, I’m all too eager to help. ”

My brow arches as a sultry grin pulls across my lips. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah.”

I don’t hesitate, climbing up onto the dining table and crawling across it until I’m planted right in front of Zephyr, sitting on the edge of the table with my thighs spread wide on either side of him. “Then I feel it’s in my best interest to let you know just how hungry I am.”

Zeph takes my thighs as a devilish grin pulls across his lips. “Then who the hell am I to deny a starved woman of her basic needs?”

I laugh, and within seconds, Zeph is on his feet and has my shirt flying over my head. It lands somewhere across the room before he plunges his hand down the front of my pants and thrusts his long, thick fingers straight inside me.

A deep groan rumbles through me, and as the sheer desperation pulses through my veins, I reach around myself, unclasp my bra, and toss it aside.

Zeph pulls at my pants with his other hand, and I press down against the table, lifting my hips, and within seconds, my pants are gone, joining my shirt and bra on the floor.

He steps right into me, his rock-hard body up against mine as the heel of his palm rolls against my clit.

“Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” Zeph rumbles, his fingers dancing across my body and pausing at my nipple, giving a gentle pinch. The slight jolt that rocks through me makes him grin. “Oh, you like that?”

I grin right back at him as his fingers work deep inside me, massaging my walls. “I think you’ll find there’s not a lot I don’t like.”

“Why don’t we put that to the test?” he questions, laying me back against the cool table, the shift in my hips sending his fingers spiraling right toward my G-spot and sending me wild.

Zeph spreads me out, his hand roaming across my skin and leaving a wake of goosebumps as a rich desire claims my every thought and need.

“Zeph,” I groan, needing so much more.

“I’ve got you,” he tells me, and boy does he!