Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

T wo Hours Later

Ashlyn sank deeper into the bath until the water sloshed over her chin. It had been two hours since she’d been completely humiliated, and she still wasn’t feeling any better about it.

“You can’t stay in there forever.”

Ashlyn glared at her sister over the few remaining bubbles, her teeth chattering. The water had gone cold an hour ago. “Watch me.”

“I’m telling you, Cam said this could be a blessing in disguise. He thinks this might even be more believable. I mean, who would be crazy enough to risk a Council seat like you’re doing, if it wasn’t for real love? We can make this work.”

“Did he really say that, or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

“Well,” Rachel shrugged, her eyes roaming around the room, “not in so many words, but you know, things could be a lot worse.”

Ashlyn groaned, her hands dripping with water as she covered her face, her words muffled. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Sighing, Rachel sat on the edge of the tub. “Okay. It’s bad.”

Ashlyn lowered her hands so she could look at her sister. Stare her down, like when they were kids. The seconds ticked by..sixteen..seventeen.. she counted silently.

Rachel was the first to give in. “Alright. It’s really bad. That creepy scumbag lawyer has been talking to as many Council members as he can. Cam thinks he’s asking them to give C’Nar temporary control over the seat until a final determination can be made, or you, uh...”

“Marry him?” Ashlyn sat forward and drew her knees up close to her chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around her legs for comfort as much as for warmth. At least her hair was still mostly dry. She’d debated about washing it for the second time that day, then decided that would be silly since drying her hair took forever, and it wasn’t even dirty. She was a bit of a clean freak when it came to personal hygiene. “I can’t say I blame him. I told you having a fake fiancé wasn’t a good idea. The challenge thing hasn’t even started yet, and I’ve already botched it.”

She put her forehead down on her knees so that Rachel wouldn’t see her tears. She’d been crying off and on for the past two hours. She hadn't been this miserable since middle school and the boy she liked found out she had a crush on him and made gagging noises in front of the whole class. Then other kids started making gagging noises whenever she was around. The rest of the year was spent avoiding anyone and everyone. This was worse. This time she had no one to blame but herself.

“Ash, you haven’t ruined anything.” Rachel leaned toward Ashlyn and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “And maybe this was for the best. I mean, we all saw how you and Prince Zade couldn’t take your eyes off each other. I thought for sure you were going to choose him. I still don’t understand why you didn’t. I think you could actually be great together.”

Sniffling, Ashlyn raised her head just enough to look at her sister. “I know, right? Look at you and Cam. You’re totally in love and he’s perfect for you.”

“Umm…” Rachel sat back, confusion flashing across her face. “I sooo don’t understand you sometimes. This is great, then, isn’t it? Why didn’t you just pick Zade in the first place? He looked like he was going to come through that window and eat you up. Seriously. He wants you bad. And he’s gorgeous. And I know you. You were totally into him. What the hell were you thinking, choosing Antonelius? You barely even noticed him, which is saying a lot, considering he’s probably one of the best looking men I’ve ever seen. You didn’t give him the time of day.”

Ashlyn groaned. “I know. I know.” She looked Rachel dead in the eye. “Everyone saw. Which is how Antonelius convinced me that I couldn’t choose Zade if I ever wanted to see him again once this whole challenge thing was over. I mean, you said I would fake my death and leave Cappra. He pointed out that once we were done, and everyone thought I was dead, I could go find Zade and start over. I don’t want the stupid Council seat. I’m not a politician. If Zade had just let me explain…but then things happened…and now, it’s ruined.”

Rachel raised one hand, palm out, her eyes big round saucers. “Whoa. You and Antonelius made this plan? And you didn't think to discuss it with the rest of us?! I swear, you better start spilling the tea right now, or I will end you. Right here. In the tub. I’ll drown you. Mom and Dad would never suspect me. I’ll….”

“Oh, shut up,” Ashlyn chuckled. “You know I can still kick your ass.”

“Well, at least I found you in the bath. I actually looked in the dance studio first. I was afraid..”

Ashlyn’s smile faded; the moment of levity gone. “Afraid I would do what? Dance until I collapsed again? That was a long time ago.”

“I know.” Rachel gave a watery smile. “But you’ve always been such a perfectionist, never allowing yourself to make mistakes, and we’re asking so much of you. There’s a ton of pressure. I mean, I know you can handle it. I do. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I had any doubt. There’s just always a tiny little part of me that worries. I can’t help it. You could have died that day.”

Recalling the day in question, Ashlyn’s heart twisted with guilt. It was true, what her sister said. She was a perfectionist, punishing herself when she made even the smallest mistakes. And that day, she’d lost a major competition. She’d made a huge mistake in her routine, causing her to fall. She got up, pushed through the pain, and finished her routine. She didn’t win. Didn’t even place in the top five. When she got home, she’d gone straight into the studio her father built for her and danced the same routine over and over again, wanting to make sure she never made that mistake again.

The hours passed unnoticed, every step, every painful landing simply a reminder of that mistake, driving her onward. She couldn’t stop. Finally, she collapsed. Rachel found her, so dehydrated she had lost consciousness and was having seizures. She was rushed to the emergency room. By then her ankle had stress fractures and she was close to renal failure. After that, Rachel had never looked at her quite the same again, always afraid for her. Checking in on her, as if responsible for her well-being.

She touched her sister’s arm, not caring if she got her blouse wet. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish I could do it all over again, but I can’t. I went to therapy,” she reminded gently. “Lots and lots of therapy. I have better coping skills now. I know when to quit. Is that why you came rushing in here? To check on me? You can stop worrying. I promise. If anything, it’s you who needs watching over. I still have nightmares about the attack. I know you don’t remember most of it, but you almost died.”

Rachel shrugged, her shoulders finally relaxing. “You’re right, and you definitely learned how to stop when you’ve had enough. In fact, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. I swear, it’s like hitting a brick wall when you don’t want to do something. Looks like this..” She sat up straight, making smushed faces until Ashlyn laughed. “So, what's the plan with Antonelius?”

“Ugh. What was the plan, you mean?”

“Is. Was. Will be. Whatever.” Rachel batted her lashes. “Spill it. Better yet, get out of the tub while you’re spilling it. I think your lips are turning blue.”

Ashlyn shivered. “I forgot my towel. It’s on the bed. Can you grab it?” She watched as Rachel got up and sauntered into the adjoining bedroom.

She closed her eyes tiredly and told her sister what she hadn’t been able to say to Zade. “I really liked him. Really, really liked him. I don’t think I’ve ever been so instantly attracted to someone. I mean, I was so into him I wouldn’t have noticed if I was hit over the head with a two-by-four. You know me. That never happens. Most of the time I’m too busy to water my plants, let alone think about a real relationship.”

“That still doesn't tell me why you chose someone else,” Rachel’s voice became slightly muffled as she got farther away.

Ashlyn groaned. “Haven't you been listening? I didn't pick Zade because I like him. I thought maybe after the whole fake thing was over, I could get to know him. Whoever I chose would have to stay on Cappra. That was the deal. They stay, I go home. Permanently. Fake my death so the Council seat goes to my mate. Your plan, remember?”

“Oh, honey, I didn't realize. I mean, you've dated a lot of hot guys before and never wanted to get serious. You should have said something.”

“It doesn't matter. Now, I'd be happy never to see him again. He knew what he was doing, Rachel. He may not have lied directly to me, but he knew about that stupid 'claim forfeit' thing. In fact, he probably picked that room because he wanted us to get caught there. I'm so mad at myself.”

“Uh, huh. I see.”

Ashlyn barely heard her sister’s reply. She should probably talk louder. “Hey! Did you find the towel? If it isn't on the bed, check the couch.”

“Yes, of course,” Rachel said, her voice still muffled. “Hey, Ash, we should finish later. I forgot; Cam wanted me to go over some details before the big dinner tonight.”

Frowning, Ashlyn stood up, still shivering, every inch of her body covered in goosebumps. “Fine. Just bring me the towel first. I’m freezing in here.”

Zade stopped, stunned into silence as water cascaded off Ashlyn’s body, shimmering in the light like a shower of diamonds dancing in the air before gracefully arcing toward the ground. The sound of droplets hitting the water was a symphony of splashing and tinkling he would never forget.

He held his breath, his eyes soaking in every detail. She was exquisite. Delicate, yet strong. Her hair was piled high on her head. She never wanted to see him again, and he wanted her so badly he ached. He watched, mesmerized, as she looked back over her shoulder, directly at him, surprise flashing in her eyes. He couldn’t recall making a sound, but he must have made one.

Ashlyn sank back down into the tepid water with a shriek. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Zade. Get out.”

Zade watched her huddle in the water, her teeth chattering, arms wrapped defensively across her breasts. Cold. Miserable. No way was he going to stand there and have a conversation with her while she froze to death. He silently thanked Rachel for handing him the drying cloth before he entered the bathing room. “Come out of there and we can discuss it.”

Ashlyn snorted. “That is literally the opposite of what I just said.”

He took a step forward, determined, protective instincts driving him. “You are cold. You can get out of there by yourself, or I can take you out, but you are getting out.” He held up the towel. “Choose.”

She stared defiantly. “You don't get to give me orders. I'll get out after you leave.”

Lips thinned in annoyance, he tried again. “Whether you like it or not, the Council thinks we are in love. There are things we must do to be convincing, things that are expected of us. Get out of that tub right now so that we can have a calm, rational discussion about it, or resist and I will come in and get you. Be warned, I’m still hard as a rock and in a ‘fuck you into submission before we talk’, kind of mood. Again, your choice.”

“Dear god, you're arrogant, you know that?” Ashlyn stood up, got out of the tub as gracefully as possible while still using her hands to cover her girlie bits, which was harder than it looked, and stomped angrily toward him, ignoring the desire rocketing through her at his words. Fuck her into submission? Damn . Images of him doing exactly that raced through her mind. By the time she stood in front of him, she was wet, and not from the bath. Well, that was too damn bad because she was still pissed. “Take a good look, because this is as much as you're ever gonna see.”

With one eyebrow cocked, he opened the towel and held it out. Ashlyn immediately saw the problem. If she continued to cover herself, her hands would be trapped inside, unable to hold onto the towel. Damn! Damn! Damn!

She looked up, met his bold stare with one of her own. He could look at her like he wanted to devour her all day long. She was immune. She was not going to be swayed by his deep rumbly voice, his muscles, or the alpha vibe he put out.

Ever so slowly, she raised her arms defiantly until they were straight up in the air.

Zade's eyes raked over her nakedness, taking way too long to wrap the towel around her. His fingers brushed the side of her breast as he knotted the material, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps up and down her body. His face was devoid of emotion as they stood there, toe to toe.

What was he thinking? Why do you care? He's nothing to you now. A prop. A temporary plus one. As soon as the Council is satisfied and gets the proof they need, you’re out of here. You can forget about Zade. Forget about the way he kissed you until you were putty in his hands, forget about the way he made you come..

“You can put them down now.”

She shook her head, bemused. “What?”

Zade made a primitive, guttural sound deep in his chest. “ Shenga , if you keep your hands up like that much longer, I'm going to start thinking you want me to bind them, to take control of your sweet little body.” His hands slid up her arms, gently pushed them together, shackling her wrists in one large hand while the other came to rest on the knot he'd made in her towel. “Is that what you want? What you need?”

Oxygen. Need it. Breathe. Ashlyn sucked in a huge lungful of air, her pulse hammering in her ears. Every cell in her body tingled with awareness. Be strong. Be strong .

“Answer me,” he ordered, closing the gap between them, crowding her backwards until she was pinned against the wall. Every possessive instinct he had rode him hard to take her, claim her, plant his seed before anyone else had the chance.

He used his grip on her wrists to pull her up onto her toes, wedged one leg between hers, then lowered her back down, the position forcing her to ride his thigh. The towel offered no resistance, the edges parting at his invasion. He wanted skin to skin contact, wanted her naked and screaming his name as he made her come.

Releasing his grip on the towel, he slid his hand down to the junction between her thighs, already spread wide to accommodate his own. Even though he couldn't see below the towel, he unerringly found what he was searching for. Her feminine lips had swelled, leaving her engorged clit exposed and in need of attention. He played with the nub, experimenting until she gasped in pleasure, then continued until her breath quickened and she ground herself against him. The little noises she made drove him mad. “This is what you want. Say it.”

She stifled a moan. Their earlier encounter flashed through her mind. Had it only been two hours since they’d been in a similar position? His hand, doing wicked, wicked things to her? She shivered. His fingers were pure magic. She was close. So close.

He picked up the tempo, pushed her closer to the edge, his mouth suddenly hot against her skin as he kissed, nipped and brushed his lips over every inch of flesh he could reach above the towel, the swell of her breasts, the nape of her neck and collarbone. “I want to know how you like to be touched, what makes you come. Tell me what you need.”

Flooded with sensation, pushed to the limit of her control, Ashlyn held on for dear life. Zade knew his way around women. Every touch, every stroke pushed her a little higher. With a half sob, half groan, she managed to get a few panted words out. “I'm...still..so...mad..at you..”

Without pulling back, Zade lifted his head enough to speak. “You have no reason to be angry. I am the one wronged.”

Wait. What did he say? Desire mixed with blossoming rage. “You? Not a chance! You manipulated the situation to get what you wanted. Manipulated me . You're Caldorian. You knew about the claiming rule.” With a bitter taste in her mouth, she pushed a little more. “Admit it. You wanted to win, no matter the cost or who got hurt. You would have gone to Antonelius even if we hadn't been caught, wouldn't you? Was that your plan all along? Wait until we were in public to tell him so that he would have no choice but to let me go? Is the Council seat that important to you?”

“No. This is about you and me. You never should have chosen another,” he snarled, his hand frozen in place, his finger still on her engorged clit. “And before we were interrupted, you wanted me deep inside you just as much as I wanted to be there.”

Humiliated, Ashlyn bit out, “Oh, buddy, that was sooooo two hours ago. Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment. It won't happen again.” She squirmed against him, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. There was nowhere to go and no way to close herself off from him. She was exposed. As if to prove the point to her, his fingers spread her open, exposing her clit to the cool air.

“It is happening again. The Council wants to see a claimed woman tomorrow; one who trusts her mate to care for her and provide whatever she needs,” he ground out, “even when she refuses to acknowledge that need.”

She gnashed her teeth together. “I'm sure Antonelius will have no problem making it look real.”

“Ashlyn!”

“What?” she asked, opening her eyes extra wide. She could play dumb with the best of them. Why she was antagonizing him, she couldn't say. “It's all fake, anyway, so you can forfeit, just like Antonelius did. I'm human. I'm sure the Council would understand.”

Zade pulled his hand away from her aching bud, shoved three fingers in his mouth and made a point of sucking on them. Only when her hips jerked in reaction did he slowly pull them from his mouth. One finger slid through her folds to find her wet entrance, then he drove all three deep inside her.

“Aaah!” She tipped her head back, breathless. This was no gentle, slow seduction. This was possession. Invasion. An alpha claiming his territory.

He growled in her ear, “If he so much as looks in your direction again, I will kill him, and he knows it.”

She lifted herself off of his thigh and onto her toes to get some relief, but he followed, pushed in even deeper. She had no time to adjust. Full. Too full. Her inner walls clenched, sending shock waves racing through her system. Hands above her head, wrists still locked in his iron grip, his leg wedged between hers and her back against the wall, there was nowhere to go. He had complete control. All she could do was accept whatever he gave her.

The thought of him being able to take what he wanted shouldn't have made her toes curl; shouldn't have sent desire arcing through her, but it did. Her eyes closed on a moan as she spasmed around his fingers again. Her pulse quickened, pounded. She was wet. So wet. And throbbing. Craving. Oh god. He's making me come and he hasn't even moved his fingers yet.

“Look at me.”

Ashlyn complied, forced her eyes open. He stood tall, every muscle rippling with raw power. His dark hair was swept back from his chiseled jaw and warm golden eyes glowed in the dim light, mesmerizing her. Electricity crackled between them like a tempest brewing as their gazes locked, her entire body trembling with anticipation.

“Does this feel fake?” He pulled his fingers most of the way out, then pushed back in, this time pressing against her clit with his thumb. Dominant. Demanding.

A million nerve endings zeroed in on where his hand was, and what he was doing with it. Desire spread like wildfire through her veins. Everything else faded. He stroked her again. Harder. Faster. Drove her mercilessly, every move an assault on her defenses. She had no time to think, no time to reason. As her legs gave out, he was right there, holding her up, effortlessly absorbing her weight.

“Does this feel fake?” He took her to the precipice and flung her brutally over the edge. Her body quivered as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.

“Does this feel fake?” He released her wrists, swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. She couldn't resist, didn't want to, as he removed her towel, spread her thighs and took her with his tongue. Walls she didn't know she had, came tumbling down as another explosive orgasm ripped through her body.

Every time she came down, he asked the same question, then relentlessly drove her up again. He feasted as only a starving man could. She lost all control, screamed his name. Yanked his hair. Scraped her nails across his shoulders. Begged him to fill her. Came so hard she saw stars.

She drifted down slowly. In the bed next to her was one very large, very smug, warrior propped up on one elbow, leaning halfway over her, staring down at her with a mixture of desire and tenderness. He remained still as she blinked away the fog. “Umm..”

“Umm?” His lips twitched with amusement. Ashlyn was everything he wanted. She was smart. Passionate. Fiery. He was so hard, every moment he wasn’t buried inside her was torture. He didn’t care. He would always put her needs before his own. He knew she believed he had manipulated her, or the situation at least. Perhaps subconsciously he had, not because he wanted a seat on the Council, but because he wanted her. He could have walked away. Now it was too late. He’d had a taste of her, and he wasn’t letting her go.

He lightly traced her bottom lip with one finger until her lips parted, then groaned when her tongue peaked out to taste him. “Do you want more?” he asked. He could feast on her body for hours, give her pleasure until she accepted his claim. His cock. His seed. There was no turning back. He would take all the time he needed to woo her properly. There would be no mistake this time, no doubt, no pretending this wasn’t what they both needed.

“What do you want?” For once, her voice held no anger. Her gaze held his and he doubted she was aware of the vulnerability he saw shining there. She needed him, needed his protection and strength. Even if she wasn’t ready to admit such things to him, he saw it in the blue depths of her eyes.

He watched her breathe deeply; her cheeks still flushed with desire. What did he want? He wanted everything . “We can start with you admitting this is what you want.”

His lips brushed hers, alternately coaxing and demanding entrance.

She opened like a flower in the sun, passionate, warm and welcoming. Her hands crept up over his shoulders, encouraging him. He wanted to shout in victory. He took what she offered, demanded more. Finally, both breathless, he lifted his head. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

He nuzzled her neck. “More.”

Lips swollen from his drugging kiss, she gave in. “Yes, I want this.”

“I am Caldorian. More than that, I am Saltrec,” he warned. “I am all the things you named me. I am primitive. Dominant. Territorial. Possessive. You chose another. My instinct now, my need, is to make sure you, and everyone else, knows you belong to me.”

She swallowed. Hadn’t he said she should choose the warrior most capable of convincing everyone, including her, that she had been truly claimed? He’d asked her if this felt fake. She couldn’t tell anymore. Her body insisted the connection between them was real, but she wasn’t stupid. Perhaps Antonelius wasn’t the only Caldorian prince willing to lie or manipulate her to obtain the power of a Council seat. She didn’t know what to believe. Did he want her for herself? Or for the power he’d gain on the Intergalactic Council?

Was he truly interested in her? Or was he seducing her for what being with her would mean to his people? For power? She couldn’t tell. When he kissed her again, she decided it didn’t matter. What was done was done. She would steal this time with him, have some amazing orgasms, and lock her heart inside a steel vault because when the challenge was over and the Caldorians had their precious Council seat, she would leave Cappra, leave her new husband, leave him. Now was all she had; all she would ever have with him.

Zade unerringly found her feminine channel and pushed two fingers deep inside, seeking the hard ridges he had already discovered drove her wild. At her cry, he ordered huskily, “Hold your legs open, shenga , the way I did when my tongue was inside you.”

Breathing heavily, she did as instructed, pulled her knees up toward her chest and pushed them wide. She shivered, suddenly vulnerable and very aware of the fingers pulling out of her.

He stood and stared down at her, devoured her with lust-filled eyes.

What was he doing? Why had he stopped? Why was he just staring? Doubt assailed her. When he held her open, she knew he was in charge, confident he was taking what he wanted. This? This was very different. Realization hit her hard. This was an offering. Hers. And he wants me to know it.

She gave in to the moment, surrendered. Gave him complete control. Waited.

Zade removed his uniform with little finesse, his impatience to be rid of the confining material no greater than her own. She was ready for him, throbbing and wet. He positioned himself over her, eased the head of his cock through her slick folds, pre-cum dripping from the tip, and stopped.

Oh fuck. So big. She looked down between their bodies, so close to getting what she wanted. He was big, much bigger than a human man, his cock more than a match for the rest of him. Her eyes rounded in disbelief. “Holy mother of...that is..that is...not normal.”

“It is normal for me,” he assured her with a gleam in his eye. His chest swelled with male pride as her gaze remained glued to his shaft, doubt written all over her face. “Do you not trust that I will make this enjoyable for you? Do you think I will not protect you?”

She shrugged, the tip of her tongue darting out. “I do trust you, but even if I didn't, I trust myself. But..umm..”

Zade searched her face. “You are still worried.”

At her nod, he moved them without breaking contact and sat up, swung his feet to the floor and shifted her to sit on him, her legs straddling his. “Better?”

“Mmm.”

He didn't think it was possible to get any harder, yet that is exactly what he did when she reached between them and took his shaft firmly in both hands. He groaned in ecstasy. In sweet agony. She was going to be the death of him. She stroked him from root to tip, her thumb gently wiping pre-cum off the end to lubricate the rest of his shaft on the way back down. Then she cupped him.

His chest heaved with the effort to remain still, to let her play. His hands gripped her hips and squeezed with every stroke she made. He ached with the desire to touch her, taste her, fill her. He wanted, needed her to take all of him, yet he would not rush her. Not this time. When she was truly his, understood the pleasure he offered, then he would be wild, risk losing control. But not yet. Not…yet…

Scooting off his lap, she knelt down. Her tongue flicked out, tasting him. He let out a strangled curse. She was too small to take even the tip inside her mouth, but her tongue...her tongue was going to end him. Hot and wet, she circled the head before diving for the slit. He could swear in that moment every drop of blood in his body squeezed itself into his cock, it was so painfully hard. “Woman, please!” he bellowed.

Laughing, Ashlyn took her time, relishing the power she held over him in that moment, her own desire soaring along with his. She still tingled from him taking her with his hands and mouth. She wanted to drive him equally crazy. Drive him to the edge, just as he'd done to her. She didn't need sweet and gentle. She was not an inexperienced virgin, too timid to take what she wanted. Her earlier weakness had guaranteed they had no future together. This could be the only real time they had. She wanted raw passion. Intense. Out of control. Unforgettable.

Good enough to last a lifetime.

Almost as if responding to her innermost thoughts, he fisted a hand in her hair and pulled her head back. “I can take no more, shenga. I want my cock buried deep. Are you ready for that? Ready to take what I give you? You do not believe it yet, but you are mine.”

She looked up. His stare was direct. Focused. Hungry. Her nipples pebbled harder as the hairs rose on the back of her neck and arms. “Then make me believe it.”

He growled, a guttural sound from deep in his chest. She barely registered the low bass, yet the vibration struck deep in her core, making her gasp. Her whole body tingled with awareness; she had just challenged a strong, possessive alpha, and he was answering her call.

Letting go of her hair, he returned his hands to her hips. There was no need for words as he lifted her with ease, positioned her. With one hand on his shoulder for balance, she used the other to guide his shaft to her wet heat. She took a deep breath in and out, then squeezed his shoulder, letting him know she was ready.

He lowered her a fraction of an inch. For a heartbeat, her body resisted penetration. Too big. Too big.. A frisson of unease struck her just before gravity forced her body to adjust, to give way. Her whole body trembled in reaction as the head finally slipped in.

Face taut with tension, Zade's arms shook, not with the effort of holding her in place, but in an effort to resist his instinct to take her all at once, bury himself in one stroke. She had him clamped so tight he was in a special kind of hell.

Only when she loosened her death grip on him did he slowly lower her, allowing her to adjust one inch at a time, until fully seated. Her head fell back, mouth open, yet no sound escaped.

Stretched beyond imagining, hyperconscious of every hard ridge, every vein pulsing against her feminine walls, she knew what it was to be taken. The tip of his cock nudged the entrance of her womb. Hot precum coated her inner walls, readying her for the next stage of his assault.

His mouth sought hers as he lifted her up until only the head of his shaft remained inside her, then slammed her back down, his hard length riding roughshod over electrified nerves. She'd never been so thoroughly conquered, possessed, as he invaded her mouth and feminine sheath at the same time.

He swallowed her shocked cry, his breath as ragged and shallow as hers. Charge and retreat. He relentlessly drove her higher and higher, pushed her from one explosive orgasm into another; every fiber of her being focused on the sensations inside her. She rode him hard—he demanded it— stoking a burning inferno within her. Lightheaded, her head lolled back on her shoulders as if he'd driven all the oxygen from her body, stolen her breath.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, he rolled her beneath him and started all over again. The new angle rocked her G-spot like he was custom made. Her toes curled. Her back arched and she met every deep thrust. She cried out as waves of pleasure pulsed through her body. Her inner walls clenched. Released. Clenched. She'd never felt so alive. Connected. She let go. Soared to the stars.

Zade's balls drew up tight and he froze, held himself still. He’d waited—made her come again and again, pushed her limits—but she was having none of that this time.

She reached between her legs, played with her engorged nub until fresh waves of pleasure hit her. Like ripples in a pond, the second wave amplified the first, putting a stranglehold on his cock. He'd never felt so good. With a roar he gave in and followed her over the precipice.