Zane (Inked Brotherhood 3)

She shivers under my hands, and maybe it’s our discussion, but now I think I smell honey. My mouth waters. I bend closer and press my mouth to the top of her tattoo, on her spine.

The air leaves her lungs in a low moan, and the pen drops from my fingers. I wrap my arms around her, haul her back until she’s on my lap. She squirms, her sweet ass pressed against my hard-on, and I almost lose it. I reach up and place my hands over her breasts. Her nipples are tight, poking into my palms.

“Zane…” She whispers my name, and her hands cover mine. Together we cup her breasts and knead them. Her head rolls back, her eyes closing. Her body arches.

I hiss, my cock aching inside my still wet pants, and I bite lightly on her exposed neck. I need to mark her, leave hickeys all over her body.

Jesus.

She settles fully on me, and her hands fall away. I reach down, lifting her dress, and her legs part. I place my hand between them, over the fine lace of her panties. Swallowing hard, I slide a finger underneath.

Dammit. My whole body tightens. I feel as if I’ve never touched a woman before.

She’s smooth down there, and I wonder if she shaves. I part her folds, and she’s wet and hot. She makes a mewling noise when I rub my finger back and forth.

“Christ, Zane,” she whispers when I find her swollen clit and press down. Her hips lift, and she turns her face so that our lips almost touch.

I turn my face away and push my finger inside her. It’s so damn tight I can’t stand it. I fuck her like that slowly, and my dick throbs in time to my heartbeat. I push a second finger inside her.

She’s panting hard, making those sexy little noises that tell me she’s getting close, and I rub her clit with my thumb. I know how to make a chick feel good, how to get her off. Problem is, normally I’m not holding them close, feeling their every move, hearing their every breath. Normally I don’t feel like I’ll come just from touching them.

This time is different.

I close my eyes, count backward from ten, trying to come back from the brink. She pulses around my fingers, and I grit my teeth, feeling an answering pulse in my dick.

Her small hand rests over mine, between her legs, and her breath catches on a sob as she comes, writhing in my lap.

I bite into her shoulder to stifle a groan and keep stroking her, feeling the waves of pleasure rolling through her, making her shake. God, it’s never been so hot before, seeing a girl come. My cock weeps and twitches.

“Oh, God…” Her arms fall to her sides, limp, as she struggles to catch her breath.

I’m panting just as hard. As I pull my fingers out of her, she whimpers, and fuck, my cock doesn’t need any more encouragement. My balls draw tight, and I blow air through my nose, fighting for control.

Her head is resting on my shoulder. She turns to look at me, her eyes wide. It makes me want to smile as I pull back.

That’s when I finally see what I’ve drawn on her back. It’s a humming bird.

I drew a bird on her last time, too. Wings, I realize. That’s what I want to put on her. Wings, so she can fly. Not the scaled, dark wings of a dragon, but great, feathered wings, the kind that can take you high, close to the light.

Where I can’t follow.

Chapter Four

Dakota

I’m still leaning on Zane’s strong chest, struggling to breathe, reduced to a puddle of pleasure. Holy shit, this boy knows how to play music on my body. I’m still thrumming everywhere, still clenching inside.

When I stare into his hooded dark eyes, the pupils are blown to hell with need. His arousal is a rod of steel at my back. He’s so beautiful, so hot, I want to grab his face and kiss him senseless.

But he pulls back.

No kissing. This is so weird. He strokes my back, sending shivers through me, and stands up.

What…?

I lean back on the cushions, pulling my dress down, suddenly self-conscious. After all, he touched me but didn’t even see me. He touched my breasts—over the dress—and made me come without even seeing what he was touching… And oh God, the memory makes me clench again. And again.

He’s standing by the sofa, fumbling with a pack of cigarettes. I get he’s not the cuddly type, but it’s like he couldn’t wait to get away from me after he made me come.