Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“I know I fucked up.”
“You fucked up?” I repeat, getting louder. “You fucked up!” I mean, the man left me a note after he took my virginity. That has to count as more than fucking up.
“Stop saying fuck.” There is a warning in his tone.
Z is different. I can see it in his eyes and feel it in his touches. There is an edge to him I have never seen before. There are no jokes or teasing. In fact, he’s been laying out threats.
“Why?” I challenge, wanting to poke him any way that I can. His hold only on my neck tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s making it clear he’s got me where he wants me.
“Because it’s going to get you fucked.” I can feel my heart start to thump in my chest and an ache forms between my thighs. I hate that my body reacts to him even when I'm upset.
Don’t do it, Cosima, I warn myself, but damn, I know I’m going to lose even a battle with myself. My mouth has a way of getting away from me.
“Fuck you.” The words are barely out of my mouth before Z’s is crashing down onto mine in a hard kiss. I push against his chest, trying to fight a battle I know I’m going to lose, not only because of Z but myself. As much as I want to be pissed at him—and I am—I want this too.
I am reluctant, yet my lips part for him, Z’s tongue thrusting into my mouth. My fingers dig into the front of his shirt, no longer fighting it. No, I push my body into his as heat floods through me, need and desire pooling deep in my stomach.
Z’s hands go to my ass, lifting me off my feet. I wrap my legs around him. “I hate you,” I say, sinking my teeth into his bottom lip. He grunts, pushing me up against a wall.
“Watch it, sweetness.”
“I don’t hate you, but I want to.”
“I know.” He kisses me again. I sink my fingers into his short hair as my tongue strokes against his. My hips move, and Z shifts, lining up his hard cock with my sex. I whimper when he thrusts, making his cock rub against my clit. My body instinctively moves with his, knowing exactly who it belongs to.
“Z.” I gasp. “I need—”
“Me.” His mouth goes to my neck, licking and sucking. “You need me.” I grip his hair tighter, mad that he’s right. “Say it.”
“I need you.” I give, wanting to please him.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers into my ear. The way he says it makes it sound so erotic, but maybe it only sounds that way because I want to be his girl so badly. I always have. There has only ever been Z for me for as long as I can remember. I tried for years to push down those feelings, but there was no denying them.
Z moves, carrying me through the villa, his mouth never leaving my neck. He goes straight for my room, kicking the door closed behind him before tossing me onto the bed. I watch as he pulls his shirt off over his head, dropping it to the floor before toeing off his shoes next. Holy crap. Last time we were together, I didn’t get the chance to really enjoy the view. Why the hell does he have to be so damn handsome? Everything about him turns me on.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to fuck you. That’s what I’m doing.”
"No, I'm mad at you." I lick my lips.
"You can fight me if it makes you feel better." He smirks, actually freaking smirks! Damn, it's hot too. "You want to fight me?"
"Maybe." I press my thighs together; that idea is hotter than it should be.
"You sure?" He steps closer, coming to stand on the side of the bed. I have to drop my head back to stare up at him. He towers over me when I’m standing, never mind when I’m sitting down. Z's fingers slide gently through my hair before fisting a handful and tugging my head back more. "Be really sure."
My heart is now pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it too.
“Fuck you.”
Z’s nose flares; his hand tugs again, harder, making me gasp. “I’ll make you sweet again,” he says before releasing his hold on my hair. I remember him repeatedly calling me "sweetness" during the night we spent together.
“You can—” My words are cut off when Z grabs me by the hips, easily flipping me onto my stomach as if I weigh nothing. “What are you doing?” I wiggle, trying to move, but he has a hand on my lower back, keeping me in place.
“I’m doing whatever I want to.” He flips up my skirt, yanking my panties down my thighs. “Keep still,” Z orders. I obviously do the opposite and keep trying to move. I gasp when he yanks me down the bed so that I’m bent over it. His hand comes down on my ass. I let out a loud gasp.