The Perfect Fit: A stand-alone why choose romance(28)
“It matters to me.” I’m surprised by the sudden knowledge that I would give anything to earn his trust.
“You getting a good look there?”
My eyes travel back to his, which are smoldering with anger and … something else I can’t identify. “I could stare at them all day. They’re incredible.”
“You think I don’t know what you’re really looking at, buttercup?”
Buttercup? He makes the term of endearment sound like an insult. But I have no idea what he’s talking about, and my frown deepens. “What?”
He steps forward, and now his chiseled body is only a few inches from mine. Heat radiates from his skin, warming me even through my tank top. A pulsing sensation builds between my thighs.
“You heard me.” His voice drops another octave, its steady cadence making goosebumps prickle along my forearms.
What the hell is this guy’s deal? “Why did you lie, Ezekiel?”
His scowl deepens. “What?”
“You lied to me. When I asked you if you wanted me here, you said yes.”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “So?”
“It seems like you don’t want me here at all.” I shrug, trying to pull off an Academy Award-winning display of disinterest.
His head falls back, and he lets out a dark, arrogant laugh, then fixes those fiery eyes on me again. “And why do you say that, buttercup? Because I don’t want you looking at my scars?”
I roll my eyes. Asshole. “What scars?”
He lowers his mouth to my ear, and his hot breath ruffles my hair. “The ones all over my fucking chest.”
My eyes drop back down, and sure enough, the veneer of ink covers a cluster of thick, twisted scars. A lump of emotion clogs my throat, but I swallow it down. They must have been carved into his flesh long before he got the tattoos. How did he get them? Are they the reason he doesn’t like to be touched? I open my mouth to tell him that I didn’t even notice his scars. I mean we all have them, some are just on the inside. But before I can utter a word, he wraps a hand around my throat, cutting off my words and my air.
“You don’t want to fucking play with me, Lily, because I will eat you alive.” His grip relaxes just enough for me to speak.
Instead of reassuring him about his scars, I give him snark. “That would require some touching though, wouldn’t it?”
He grunts a response, a humorless smirk pulling the corner of his mouth upward as a wicked glint flickers in his dark eyes. “I will touch you whenever and wherever the fuck I want.”
Pretending his hand isn’t still locked around my throat, I place my hands on my hips. “Is that so?”
“That’s the deal you signed up for.”
“Is there anywhere I’m allowed to touch you?”
He lets go of me. “Forearms. Or below the waist is fine.”
I glance down, unconsciously running my tongue over my lip when I see the clear outline of his hard cock straining against his pants. He wants me, but he won’t admit it. I wish I knew why.
A menacing growl vibrates in his chest. “You want a taste, buttercup?”
Not taking my eyes from his impressive bulge, I nod.
He inhales deeply, his abs tightening and the thick muscles of his thighs growing taut. He has an incredible body, and I want to feel it for myself. I want him to let me in. I need him to let me in. “Then go ahead.” He grits out the words like they pain him.
Not giving him a second to change his mind, I drop to my knees. He flinches when I trail my fingernails over his zipper. I bite down on my lip to stifle a giggle and look up to find him gazing down at me with an expression of unrestrained hunger. My insides contract with white hot pleasure. I’ve never seen him like this, at least not with me, and it fuels my courage. Still, my fingers tremble on his zipper. And when I reach into his boxers and free his magnificent cock, he trembles too. His entire body shudders as he lets out a deep groan. It’s possibly the hottest sound I’ve heard any man make—ever. This is my way in with Zeke. This is how I get him to trust me.
Wrapping my hand around the thick base, I squeeze. Precum leaks from the slit of his crown, and I dart out my tongue and lick it off, stifling a moan as his taste fills my mouth. He hisses out a breath. I want all of him inside me, but I want to draw this out for him too. I’m going to give him the best head he’s ever had in his goddamn life.
“You taste so good.” I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock, and he grunts appreciatively, rocking his hips forward, but I pull back, taunting him just a little.
Huge mistake.
Zeke snarls, the animalistic sound vibrating through him and into me, and fists his giant hands in my hair. “Don’t fucking toy with me.”
I take a deep breath through my nose right before he shoves his cock all the way into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat and making me gag. Tears stream down my cheeks. Saliva dribbles down my chin. He pulls back an inch, and I take the opportunity to suck in air, preparing for him to drive inside again, which he does half a second later, barely giving me any time to recover.
I place my hands on his hard thighs, my fingertips digging into his taut muscles and holding me steady while he fucks my face. Ezekiel Cavanagh is wrong if he thinks this is going to break me. So very wrong. I relax my jaw and my throat, the way I was taught a long time ago. Tears prick at my eyes for a different reason now, but I blink them away, anchoring myself to this moment right here. To Zeke’s scent. His touch. His powerful hands on my head. The way they hold onto me, almost reverently as he drives his cock in and out of my mouth.