I take a step forward and the movement catches Zack's attention. His gaze rises slowly, running up my legs, hovering a moment on my breasts and finally up to my face.
Our eyes lock and I see a war within his eyes. I see desire flickering right along with uncertainty and anger.
"Go to bed, Kate," he says tiredly.
Not tired because of the game or the late hour, but I can tell...tired because of that war he's fighting.
I don't respond, but instead walk toward him. The flames now leap in his eyes and his fingers curl into the edge of the armrest. His hips roll and adjust deeper into the chair and his eyes sweep down and up me again.
"What are you doing?" he asks thickly as I cross the floor.
Words are a waste, in my opinion, and only open this situation up for debate if Zack wants to fight what's going on between us. So I walk right up to him, putting a little sway in my hips and reveling in the soft satin as it brushes against me.
When I reach his feet, I step right between those shiny black dress shoes he has on, and his legs spread slightly.
"Kate," Zack warns in a low voice.
I lower to my knees and inch forward, causing his legs to spread apart farther to let me in. My hands come up and rest on his thighs. I feel the heat of him through the dark gray dress pants, and his muscles contract and then relax under my touch.
I stare up at Zack. He returns the look, his eyes hooded, his lips parted slightly. And then he shreds me and relieves me all at once when he reaches a hand out, pushing my hair behind my ear. "I'm glad you don't heed my warnings."
A small smile of understanding rewards him and my eyes drop to his belt buckle.
I want him in my mouth. I've been obsessing about it since that night in New York when he had me in his mouth. Zack possessed me...consumed me...his lips roving hungrily over and against me. He hummed appreciation for my reactions and taste, he urged me higher and higher with his mouth and fingers, and within just a few short minutes, I was arching my back off the bed in the most blinding, the most debilitating, the most fabulous orgasm of my life.
In those few minutes where his face was pushed hard between my legs, I would have done anything he asked of me. He had me so utterly in his control, so needful for him to never stop, that I would have done and promised anything.
And I want that from him now.
Not that I would take advantage of that and get him to offer up promises in a haze of lust. No, I just want his body under my control and I want to give him the same exquisite pleasure he gave me the other night. I want the intimacy of it...I want there to be absolutely no barriers or boundaries when I take him in my mouth. I want to give everything to him.
My hands reach out and I let my fingertips stroke the belt buckle.
Zack's legs push inward, caging me in at my ribs. "Jesus," he mutters, and my head snaps up to look at him.
"Do you want me to stop?" I ask him softly, even as I start to undo the buckle.
His hips flex up a little and he growls, "Fuck no, don't stop."
Exhilaration courses through me. Heady power and triumph.
He's not pushing me away.
He still wants me.
The buckle comes undone and I push the ends aside, immediately going to work on the button. His erection is evident under the expensive material and my mouth waters just looking at the outline of it. My fingers gently work the button open, and I marvel over the sureness in my hands as I grasp the zipper and pull it slowly down.
I've never done this before, and yet I'm confident in what I'm doing.
That has everything to do with the way Zack told me not to stop. With such need in his eyes that I knew only I would be able to satisfy it.
I consider the gray boxer briefs staring at me, and how to get his pants and underwear down, when Zack brings a hand to my face and strokes his fingers down my cheek. I raise my eyes and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, just feeling...in my bones...it's a sexy thing to do.
He gives a slight groan of approval, but his eyes are serious. "I hated staying away from you," he murmurs.
I smile, which causes the sexy lip to pop free. "Then don't do it again."
Zack's eyes harden slightly and his hand slips past my temple to curve around the back of my head. He squeezes and says, "This is difficult for me."
His words are firm, but there is a wealth of vulnerability in them, and that causes my heart to weep for this man. "It shouldn't be," I tell him softly. His eyes search mine, desperately seeking the truth from me. "This should not be hard between us. I'm okay. You're okay. This is okay...what we're doing."
"I don't want to hurt you, Kate," he says grimly.
"I know that," I assure him gently. "And I see the lines in the sand you've drawn. I'm steering clear of them, and I promise you, Zack...the absolute minute this becomes something I can't handle, I will tell you. And there will be no hard feelings. I swear it."
Uncertainty and desperate hope to believe me.
That's what I get back from his look.
He doesn't say anything. I take that as tacit agreement as well as permission for me to continue my seduction. Placing my fingertips in the waistband of his underwear, I start to pull at them, hoping he'll raise his hips up to assist.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
Once again, I raise my gaze to his and tilt my head to the side. "For what?"
"For when I do hurt you," he replies resolutely. "It's going to happen."
Tenderness and sorrow well up inside me. And gratitude.
Yes, gratitude for his foresight and admission, because whether Zack wants to admit it to himself, he's just shared with me a very crucial detail...
That he already has feelings for me, otherwise this would not be bothering him so much.
I immediately put him at ease. I tell him what he needs to hear so he has peace of mind. "Apology accepted."
His smile comes then, very subtle and filled with appreciation.
I smile back.
Then I reach my hand down
inside his underwear and run my fingers over his hard length. Without taking my eyes off my goal, I ask him offhandedly, "Are we done talking now? Because I'd really like to put my mouth to other uses."
Zack's hand falls away from my head and I hear his head hit the back of the chair cushion. "Killing me," he mutters as his hips flex upward, insisting I touch him more. "Absolutely killing me."
I giggle and command him, "Lift your hips so I can get your pants down a bit."
He complies and I briefly release my hold on him so I can get the offending material out of my way. They slide easily down and past his erection, which when freed is so stiff it stands up straight.
One quick peek up at Zack, and although his head is resting on the cushion, his eyes are lowered to stare down at me. Blazing heat echoes back at me and his chest is already rapidly expanding and deflating in anticipation.
My own blood fires in response, the heady power surging back through me again. I look back down at his swollen shaft and wrap my hand around the base. A huff of air comes out of him, blowing across the top of my head.
So many places to start. So many things I could do.
Kiss? Lick? Nip? Suck? Stroke?
I opt for the first idea in my head, leaning forward and kissing him softly on the tip. Zack moans and his cock jumps in my hand.
Nice.
Now I think I want to suck, because I believe that is my best chance to drive him quickly crazy. I want to do to him exactly as he did to me. Build him up fast, make him insane with lust and need, and then I want to be the one to set off the explosion.
I lean up on my knees a tad so I hover over him. My hair falls around me in a curtain as I lower my mouth and start to take him in.
He's huge. He's thick. And he won't fit all the way in without playing patty-cake with my tonsils. So I concentrate on that part of him that I can accommodate, moving up and down with my mouth, counterstroking with my hand.
Immediately, Zack reacts. He groans loudly and starts pumping his pelvis, giving in to the natural urge to be the one doing the fucking. I use my free hand to push down hard on his hips and try to still him, but that's like trying to hold down a bucking bronco.
So I work with it. I go ahead and let him set the pace, but I work my mouth, combining pressure and suction and squeezing. I flutter my tongue under the head of his shaft and he hisses in pleasure. I do that over and over, alternating between allowing long strokes in my mouth and rough squeezes from my hand. Without thought to what I'm doing or even if I'm doing it right, one hand goes between his legs, and I lightly press in and massage his balls.