Break Me by Evelyn Glass Page B

tenting out her sheer bra and showing clearly against the thin fabric of the dress. “Where should I take you, then? Here? The bedroom? How close do you care to be?”
     
    “I don’t care,” she whispered. “But now. Please now.”
     
    If his eyes had gone any more Alpha male, she was pretty sure he would have thrown her over his shoulder and been done with any kind of patience. “This way,” he said.
     
    He led her through the open entrance of the great room, and towards the kitchen, but before he reached that bustling center of the party’s actual activity, he turned into the breakfast nook, where they’d talked that first morning, when everything had seemed—well, sane had been a bit of a stretch, but better than it was now.
     
    Zoey wasn’t sure, later, who touched who first. She knew that her pussy was wet and aching for him, and when her hips touched his—either because she pushed herself back against him, or because he pulled her back towards him, she wasn’t sure—she could feel the iron rod of his cock, eager and ready for her. “How tight is this dress,” he asked as he investigated the skirt. It was easy enough for him to pull up to her hips, kissing delicately down her neck. He didn’t look at first, just ran his hand over the curve of her ass, looking for the line of underwear that he would need to remove; when he didn’t feel anything, he shivered against her. “Oh, princess.”
     
    She turned around, bold as brass in his arms. She looped her forearms around her neck and let her naked cunt brush against the fabric of his pants. “How bad do you want me, sha? You can take me here, if you want. Anyone could walk in any time, but I don’t mind.” In truth, the thought of it, the thought of choking back her sounds, swallowing her moans and cries as he drove her over the edge made her pussy tighten and burn with wanting.
     
    “You sure?” he asked. His voice was steady, but there was something in it, something careful and cautious. He had himself on a tight leash, she suspected, and that was good. That was very good.
     
    “One of my naughty fantasies is being tied down to a bed and fucked by guy after guy. Whoever’s not fucking me is jacking over my tits, playing with my mouth, teasing my ass. And I’m just tied down and can’t do anything about it.” It made her cheeks burn to say it out loud, but the way his pupils dilated, the way his breath picked up quickly—he liked the idea, she was almost sure of it.
     
    “We’ll talk about that later,” he said. “If it’s something you want to make happen.”
     
    She reached between them, running her hand over his cock. Even through his pants, he was harder than she’d ever guessed he would be. She could imagine the feel of him in her hand, the outer skin of him burning hot, sliding over that granite core that drove into her. She dropped her head back and let her hips fall forward, brushing against him again, and he moved smoothly, one hand lifting her skirt until it was at waist level in front, the other hand lifting her leg and wrapping it around his knee. She hooked it there, and he lifted her, sliding her ass up onto the table. His mouth devoured hers, her tongue plunging into his mouth, letting him swallow the little noises and desperate cries that kept escaping from her as he pulled a condom from his pocket, unzipped, and sheathed himself. His fingers crept between them, tracing her inner lips, testing her readiness, and she bucked her hips for him. It was her turn to swallow his groan after that. “Want you,” she whispered. “I want you now.”
     
    “I don’t want to hurt you.” There was such agony in his eyes. He was doing a great job of covering it, tamping it down, but she thought maybe it was going to be there for a long time. That maybe it was okay, too. He’d crossed a line, and while she didn’t exactly like the idea of him being afraid, if it kept him from crossing it again while he solidified it in his