Ruthless Regret (Ruthless Games Duology #2)

Chapter 50

CHAPTER FIFTY

ASHLEY

My breath hitches when his hand skims lightly down my side, and drags down my pants. His breath is warm against my hip as he slides down my body and settles between my legs. His touch ignites a warmth that spreads through me, bringing with it a wave of desire and uncertainty.

I want to give in, to lose myself in this heat that’s building, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about all the pain and anger that’s passed between us.

Is this real? Or just a moment of vulnerability, of seeking comfort in the dark?

Does it matter?

“Zain?” I’m not sure if I’m about to tell him to stop or encourage him to keep going.

His head lifts, and his eyes meet mine. In the dim light, I imagine I can see the expression in them, and in my head I’m sure they reflect my own conflict.

Want. Need. Hesitation.

Do I want this? Do I want him ?

When I don’t say anything more, he turns his head and presses a kiss to my thigh. And that’s enough to give me my answer.

I do want this. I do want him. The past doesn’t matter. Not here. Not now.

All that matters is the electric current his touch on my body is causing, and the way my pulse speeds up.

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep my hands on the headboard at the first lick of his tongue over my clit. My back arches, and his hand flattens against my stomach, pressing me back down against the mattress. He holds me there, while his mouth devours me, tongue licking, lips teasing, teeth nipping, and the overload of sensation sends me hurtling over the edge of a cliff I didn’t see coming toward me.

I think I have an out-of-body experience, a moment where I’m looking down at the pair of us, of Zain’s dark head between my legs while I buck and writhe against his mouth. When my soul returns to my body, it’s to the sound of sobs and whimpers filling the room.

Is that me? Oh my god, is that me?

Zain sits up, and for the first time that I can remember, there’s a smile on his lips. It does something to me, makes my heart skip a beat. While I watch, he reaches down and pulls his shirt up and over his head. Muscles ripple across his stomach with the movement, and I lick my lips.

Had he been this toned the other day? Of course he had, I just hadn’t noticed.

My eyes follow the movement of his hands as they drop to his pants, and my breath stills as he pops the top button.

“Can I do it?” The question leaves my lips in a breathless rush before I can stop it.

His movements still, and his head tilts. For a second, I think he’ll refuse, but then he nods. I sit up.

“Stand up.”

He climbs off the bed, and I curl my legs beneath me so I can kneel in front of him. My hands replace his, and I slowly pull down the zipper. Hooking my fingers into the waistband of his underwear, I pull them and his pants down his legs.

His dick springs free, hard and thick. My tongue creeps out to wet my lips again. I’m so close to it, all I need to do is bend my head a little.

What will he do? Will he stop me?

I risk a glance upwards, and find him looking down at me. His jaw is tense, eyes intense as he watches me. Slowly, giving him time to say no, I lower my head, and open my mouth.

The groan that comes from him when my lips slide over the tip of his dick vibrates through me, and his hand lands in my hair, fingers flexing as I take him as deep as I can.

“Fuck.” The curse sounds like it’s ripped from his mouth, and it sends a surge of triumph and satisfaction through me.

Maybe I can cause his own out-of-body experience.

I pull back until my lips are only touching the head, and then I lick my way down one side and up the other. The fingers in my hair tighten, and I can’t stop a smile. Leaning back, I make eye contact with him, and then slowly swallow his dick. His eyes darken, lips parting on a moan.

“Jesus … fucking … Christ.”

I’m pulled off his dick, and pushed back onto the bed, my wrists wrapped in a tight grip and pulled above my head. The move arches my back, my breasts rubbing against his chest, sending delicious sparks of fire through my veins.

His dark eyes burn into mine, and then his mouth is on mine in a kiss that takes my breath away. His free hand finds my clit, strokes over it, then moves to push two fingers inside me.

I moan into his mouth, fighting to free my hands so I can touch him. His grip tightens, and he pulls his mouth from mine.

“I want to fuck you.”

I’m nodding before he finishes talking. “Yes. Now.”

“I don’t have protection.”

“Don’t care.” There are probably a thousand reasons why I should care, I just can’t think of any of them. Not while he’s biting his way down my throat. And not while his fingers are pumping in and out of my body, preparing me for his dick.

I whimper when he pulls his fingers free, but I don’t have a chance to complain because the world spins, and I’m above him, legs either side of his thighs.

“I want to watch you take my dick.” He reaches between our bodies and his fingers circle his erection, giving it a slow stroke. “Lower yourself onto me. Keep your eyes on mine.”

My lips part as I ease downward, and his dick pushes inside me. My eyelashes lower, and a hand grips my chin.

“Eyes open, Firecracker. On me.” His voice is rough, commanding, and I force myself to meet his gaze.

I’ve had sex before. I’ve been on top before. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this. I’ve never felt as vulnerable as I do in this second, with his hand on my hip, and his eyes holding mine while he guides me down onto his dick.

“Can you feel me?”

Can I feel him?

It’s like he’s everywhere. His grip on my jaw, his eyes burning into mine, his fingers burning my skin where they’re resting on my hip, his dick seated deep inside of me. There isn’t a part of me that can’t feel him.

His hand lifts, and he circles one of my nipples with a finger. My lashes drop again, and the fingers on my jaw tighten.

“Look at me.”

It’s hard, hard to meet his eyes when all I want to do is rock my hips and ease the ache that’s building inside me.

One side of his mouth curls up, as though he can hear my thoughts. His palm covers my breast, squeezes, and then he rolls his hips. Explosions go off in my blood at the sensation of him moving inside me.

The hand on my jaw slips down a little, his fingers tightening around my throat, so he can pull me down and kiss me, tongue thrusting in and out of my mouth in time with the thrusts of his dick.

It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

I can’t breathe, what little oxygen I take in burning up before it reaches my lungs.

I don’t care about all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening. I don’t care what people might say. I don’t care about anything except what’s happening between us.

At this moment, I could happily die, impaled on his dick, his hand on my throat, and his mouth on mine.