Because holy hell, this guy can kiss.
The effect of his lips finally touching mine, as well as the dominant hold he has on me, shoots through every nerve in my body. Its rush ignites every tip of my fingers, flowing through my chest, and most notably, to the apex of my thighs.
His hot mouth works perfectly against mine before finding its way to my throat, nipping and soothing. And I don’t know if I’ve ever needed someone’s touch as much as I do right now.
He pins me to the wall with his hips as I subconsciously push mine into him, feeling him grow against me. I coax him by rubbing, writhing, arching my body, and pulling a throaty growl from the man who always seems to be in control.
Zanders’ grip leaves my face and waist, urgently sliding around to my ass, traveling south, and lifting me up as if I were as light as a feather.
A quick self-conscious thought travels through my mind as he carries me to the couch with my legs wrapped around his waist. But Zanders shows no strain from holding me up as he sits down with ease.
Straddling him, I can feel his hardness beneath me, even through my jeans. Lining myself over his length, I continue to move and grind, rocking my body, trying to ease the ache.
Both my hands slip around the back of his neck as my nails scratch his scalp. “Mm,” Zanders hums into my mouth. “I like that.”
I keep my mouth on him as I roll my hips, earning some much-needed friction on my clit, and grinding down on the rock-hard erection he’s hiding in his pants.
Hiding probably isn’t the right word. From what I can feel, there’s not much hiding going on.
“Fuck,” he groans. “I like that even more.”
My chest fills with confidence. I can do this. “What else do you like?”
Zanders’ lips tug up slightly on one side. “I’d like to see what that mouth of yours can do, other than talk back to me.”
My palms run the length of his chest, pushing his shirt over his broad shoulders. “You like when I talk back to you.”
Zanders tries to hold back his knowing grin by kissing me again. He fills his palms with two handfuls of my ass before he slaps it, then nudges me off his lap.
I slip off him before taking a step back. When Zanders stands, he peels his arms out of his shirt, leaving it on the couch and towering over me. Keeping his hooded eyes locked on mine, he undoes the zipper on his pants before nodding towards them and silently telling me to finish the job.
Biting down on my lower lip, I get on my knees in front of him, minuscule under this powerful man. My fingers hook into his pants, tugging them down. They’re tight around his ass and thighs, hockey player problems, but when they get past the majority of his muscle, they pool around his ankles.
He watches every movement with vigilant attention.
As Zanders kicks his shoes and pants to the side, all I can do is keep my stare at the giant package behind his tight briefs. I’ve seen him in as little clothing as he’s in right now, every time we’re on the airplane, but I was hoping that he was a show-er, not a grower. Judging by my current view—he’s both.
I flatten my palm against him through the fabric, causing Zanders to hiss an inhale from the sensation. Stroking his length over the material, I peer up at him through my lashes.
“Don’t tease me, sweetheart.” Zanders runs the pad of his thumb across my lip in a warning. “Stop fucking playing with it and take it out.”
Returning my attention south, I grip the elastic waistband of his briefs and pull them down. When his dick bounces to its full size right in front of me, the first thought that rushes through my mind is how the fuck is this supposed to fit inside my mouth, let alone anywhere else?
I can feel my eyes widen as I grip his base, my fingers having trouble connecting due to the size. It’s thick, decorated with veins. And for a dick, I’ve got to say it’s pretty fucking beautiful.
“Open your mouth,” Zanders commands.
I do as I’m told, wetting my lips, then taking him in my mouth. A breathy moan escapes him and fills my ears, coaxing me. Sliding my tongue down his shaft, I take as much of him as I can. What doesn’t fit, I use my hand.
“Good girl.” Zanders gathers my curls in his fist, holding my hair out of the way. “Now, open your throat.”
All the blood in my body rushes to the spot between my legs as I push my knees together, hoping the friction will ease the ache caused by his words.
I continue my pace, my head bobbing, my lips sucking, and my hand stroking. I take him a little deeper, and as I do, I look up with watery eyes. Zanders’ commanding gaze is mesmerized on every move I make.