Say You Want It

“Are you sure?” I asked against her mouth.

She pulled back and looked in my eyes, our breath mingling, the harshness of our panting audible. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

6

Zane

We found ourselves at my penthouse apartment, one I stayed at when I worked late in the city, and the first place I’d claim Piper.

Being with her might ruin my relationship with Liam.

Or maybe it wouldn’t.

Maybe my best friend would see how much I loved her, that Piper was the other half to me, that part that I’d been missing my whole fucking life. Maybe Liam would embrace our relationship and give his approval.

I couldn’t stand to think of losing him. He was like a brother to me, my family.

And that’s why this—being with his daughter—could fucking ruin everything.

“You’re thinking too hard,” she finally whispered, drawing me out of my thoughts. Only Piper could have everything else fading away until it was us once more, until nothing else mattered but being here, with the woman I loved, the woman I’d give up everything for.

“I’m thinking about how this could really fuck things up.” I didn’t mince my words. I wanted her to know the truth. Now that she was aware of what was about to happen, how I felt, I never wanted to keep another thing from her again.

“I don’t want to think about any of that. Let reality leave, at least for this one moment.”

I groaned and rested my head against hers, my eyes closed, my breathing ragged.

“I’d do anything for you. All you have to do is ask and it’s yours.”

“Zane.” She whispered my name so sweetly, so innocently.

God, she was mine.

“You could ruin me and you wouldn’t even know it.” I cupped the back of her neck, pulling her face in close enough so our lips were a hairsbreadth away.

She lifted her hands and placed them on my chest. “Zane. Kiss me,” she whispered.

And when I saw her mouth open, her lips part ever so slightly, I kissed her hard and deep. I wasn’t going to stop until she was mine in every conceivable way, until both of us were so sated we couldn’t walk, let alone think clearly.

I didn’t know if I could have stopped even if I wanted to, but it seemed it didn’t matter because Piper started kissing me back. She speared her hands in my hair, tugged at the strands, and made these small noises in the back of her throat.

I swallowed the sound, needing more, wanting her to surrender every part of herself to me. She felt good in my arms, really fucking good. I knew I wouldn’t be able to let her go. Once I claimed her, fucked her and let her know she was mine, I was not going to let Piper walk away.

I wasn’t going to let anyone else have her.

She broke the kiss and looked at me. Her lips were swollen, red, and wet from my ministrations.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

She nodded, moaned out softly when I moved my thumb along her cheekbones. I didn’t stop myself from kissing her again.

“It feels so good.”

She panted against my mouth, and I knew she was giving herself to me finally.

I slipped my hand behind her head, gripped the base of her skull, and stared into her eyes.

She stared at me for a second, and I wondered if she’d find that hard edge of strength to stop this, to realize how crossing lines could ruin things. But I didn’t care about blurred lines. I cared about this woman more than anything else. I loved her more than life itself.

She broke free then, grabbing hold of my hair even harder, and slamming her mouth on mine.

“All mine,” I murmured, grabbed her hair, and tilted her head back. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.” I stared into her eyes. “I’m going to make you liquid.”

Her mouth was parted, her pupils dilated, and when she licked her lips, I let myself go fucking crazy. I kissed her again and again, hard, consuming ones that had her gasping against my mouth.

She kissed me harder, with more desperation.

Our tongues slid along each other, frantically, heated, and full of need. I was hard, so fucking hard that I found myself grinding my erection into her belly to ease the ache. I felt this carnal need for her, desperately desiring—aching—to feel myself buried balls deep in her pussy.

She pressed her breasts against my chest and murmured these incoherent things, her desire clearly driving her over the edge.

“Zane,” she moaned out.

I moved my hand lower until I got to the hem of her shirt, and slipped my fingers beneath the material. She arched her back for more. At the first contact of my bare flesh against hers, she gasped.

“Christ.”

My dick punched forward even harder when I took her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and pulled at the already turgid flesh. Over and over I played with her nipple, growing harder by the second with each moan she made.