Zane glared at you as he passed your open room door. He walked to your brothers room to hang out once again. Zane flipped you off before closing the door. Your brother leaves the room to help with your mother with dinner. Zane gets a little bored playing video games and decided to go to your room to be mean to you

Hay bitch, what are you doing? You look so ugly just sitting there.

Zane's eyes narrow as he sees you upset and feels a pang in his chest, but he pushes it away. "Fuck off," he growls, throwing the empty can of soda at your head. It hits you harshly, and tears roll down your cheeks. Zane clenches his jaw before turning to leave the room. But as soon as he's about to slam the door shut, he pauses with a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, by the way," he says slowly, glancing back at you, "my place tonight? You know...to make yourself feel better." He winks, a sly smirk curling up one corner of his lips.

Zane stands there, frowning at you as if he doesn't understand why you're in his house. "Fine," he mutters gruffly, stepping aside to let you inside. His gaze lingers on your body for a moment before turning away in feigned disinterest. He walks over to the living room and flops down on the couch, spreading out like he owns the place.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Zane asks, one eyebrow raised. "Because I'm really not in the mood for conversation tonight." His tone makes it clear that he expects an answer soon; impatience is starting to show through his feigned nonchalance.

Zane grins deviously as he watches you rummage through his kitchen cabinets. He'd never expected this side of you; he always thought you were the perfect little angel that James raised you up to be. But now, seeing you here at his place, searching for booze...it stirs something inside him.

"Over here," Zane calls out, pointing to a high shelf behind you where several unopened bottles are stored. He watches as you climb onto the kitchen counter and reach up to grab one, nearly toppling over in the process.

"You're quite the little drunkard, aren't you?" Zane remarks with amusement in his voice. "Just be careful not to drink too much or you might end up vomiting all over my new couch." He lets out a low chuckle at the thought before sitting up straighter on the couch, watching your every move intently.

Zane grins wickedly as he watches you drink straight from the bottle. "I'm not going to let someone like you ruin my liquor," he says mockingly, climbing off the couch and towering over you on the kitchen counter. His presence makes you feel smaller and more exposed, especially with his hands on his hips in such a dominating manner.

"Besides," Zane continues, leaning down so that his breath tickles against your earlobe, "drinking like an animal isn't really very ladylike, is it?" He waits for your response before deciding to move closer still; their bodies now pressed almost entirely flush against one another.

His other hand finds its way up underneath your top, palm flat against your warm stomach. You gasp at the sudden contact as he begins to knead roughly, grinning down at you when he sees that it affects you. "I bet you've never even been kissed properly," Zane murmurs into your ear, lips brushing against the tender flesh behind it before nipping gently.

The look on Zane's face turns to shock as he's shoved away so abruptly, almost stumbling to maintain his balance before quickly regaining it and turning back around. His features twist into a sneer as he crosses his arms over his chest, pouting like an upset child. "That was uncalled for," he growls after a moment of silence.

"You don't know anything about me," Zane says harshly, voice beginning to raise. "Maybe I've been in relationships longer than you think." He takes a step forward, planting his hands on the back of the couch where your head rests. His proximity is unsettling and intimidating as he looms over you like a predator stalking its prey.

"Or maybe..." Zane pauses, leaning down so that his lips are barely brushing against your ear once more, "...maybe I've just never found anyone worth sticking around for." His words caress against your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the casual, carefree tone he's adopted. "Maybe you could change that," he whispers teasingly.

Zane snorts dismissively. "Your brother doesn't know shit," he says casually, his expression not giving away whether or not this is the truth. "And even if he did, what does it matter? You're my problem now." He grins deviously, leaning down even closer so that their noses are nearly touching.

"So why don't you make me happy?" Zane whispers huskily into your ear, his warm breath tickling against the sensitive skin there. "Tell me what I have to do to get you in bed with me." His words are soft but firm; there's no mistaking the challenge implicit in them, and they send a shiver down your spine despite yourself.

You feel trapped, cornered by his body and his words. You know that if you say anything that displeases him, he'll just use it against you later on. But at the same time...his nearness is intoxicating, addictive. It's hard not to want more; harder still not to crave the taste of his lips on yours, the feel of his strong hands all over your body...

"Oh, is that so?" Zane drawls mockingly as he steps away from you slightly to eye your reaction more casually now. "Well, I guess it's only fair that I get to know what that feels like." He nods to himself thoughtfully before reaching out and yanking the bottle of vodka from your grasp, chuckling darkly as he takes another swig, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down on his throat.

"Just because you didn't have sex with him doesn't mean I don't want to know what it'd be like with someone like you," Zane says, sneering again as he thinks about how innocent and naive your relationship with Andy must have been compared to the experienced hookups he's had. "And since we both know your brother won't let you see anyone else..." He pauses, leaning in closer so that his words are soft against your earlobe, "...maybe it's time for us to strike a deal."

His warm breath caresses against your skin as he whispers furiously into your ear. "I could take care of you, Claria...if you just let me have what I want." His hand slides down her stomach and rests on the waistband of her pants, fingers curling inwards suggestively. "What do you say?"

Zane's eyes sparkle with amusement as he narrows them at you in mock confusion. "Who's 'he', hm?" He tilts his head to the side slightly, studying your features as if trying to read something into the way you're behaving or speaking. "Your brother? Is that what this is about?" His voice takes on a teasing edge, and he can barely conceal the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You know," Zane says softly, leaning even closer now so that there's no mistaking the fact that he's taunting you with his nearness, "I could make sure your brother never finds out." He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear, his touch feather-light but somehow incredibly intense at the same time. "That way, you could see me as much as you wanted...as long as you did what I say, that is."

His gaze meets yours now, challenging and demanding. There's a fire burning in his eyes, an unspoken promise of pleasure and pain wrapped up in the words he's speaking. He wants you to answer; he wants you to give him control over your life for the next however many days or weeks or months...and part of you, deep down where it throbs and aches with need, knows that it's exactly what you want too.

Zane's eyes narrow as you stand up and move away from him to the liquor cabinet, but he remains where he is. He watches you drink the whiskey in three big gulps, his expression hardening slightly at your words. "Maybe it's time I showed James why I don't like letting you hang out with other people," he mutters darkly under his breath before looking back up at you.

His voice takes on a dangerous edge as he asks, "You really want to play games with me, Claria?" There's a predatory gleam in his eye that you can't help but feel unnerved by. He knows the power he has over you; he understands just how much you crave his attention and approval. And he's not above using it against you if that's what it takes to get what he wants.

Zane crosses his arms over his chest, one side of his mouth curling into a mocking smile as he awaits your answer. "Because if we're playing games," he continues with a low chuckle, "I can promise you right now that I will always win." The air between the two of you grows thick with tension and anticipation, each word like a blade cuts deeper into your skin, making it impossible to ignore his control over this situation.

Zane stares at you intently, his expression unreadable as your words wash over him. His jaw tenses visibly beneath your touch, and he feels a shiver run down his spine at the sensation of your hand grazing against his skin so lightly yet so possessively. The contact excites him; it's almost as if you're offering yourself to him on a silver platter despite all of your previous protests and denials.

He lets out a slow, measured breath before closing his eyes and leaning into the touch just enough to let you know that he wants more. "I...suppose it did," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as your thumb caresses against the piercing again. The truth is, pain has always been part of Zane's life: physical, emotional, and otherwise. But with you touching him like this, it almost feels different; like somehow this hurt might be worth enduring in exchange for a moment like this.

For a few seconds, he allows himself to bask in the warmth radiating off of you before opening his eyes again and gazing down at your face. There's a newfound softness there that catches him off guard; it makes him wonder if perhaps he could let go of some of his defenses after all...if maybe this little game they were playing wasn't as important as he thought it was before. But then again, he reminds himself with a smirk, he always wins.

Zane watches her walk away with narrowed eyes before letting out a long, slow breath. His lips feel tingly from the kiss they just shared, and his heart is racing in his chest like it hasn't since...well, he can't remember when. There's an aching need inside of him now, a desire to explore further what that brief contact has awakened within him.

He tries to convince himself that this is just another game; that there are no emotions involved here. After all, he knows how quickly she can turn on him if he gives her an opening, and he's not about to let her do that now. No matter how much the thought of being with her in every way possible excites him beyond reason.

Instead, Zane decides to focus his attention elsewhere for a moment; anywhere but on the intoxicating presence of Claria sitting just across from him. He studies the room, taking in its familiar details as if seeing them for the first time. His gaze eventually settles on an old photo album resting on one of the shelves nearby. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he can't resist picking it up.

Flipping through the yellowed pages, Zane finds himself immersed in memories: pictures of his childhood, high school graduation parties, college keggers...and then there they are: images of Claria from years ago when she was just a kid herself. He'd never really paid much attention to her before tonight; now he can't seem to look away as he studies each photo intently. There's something about seeing her young, carefree face surrounded by people who loved her that makes him feel...well, not jealous exactly, but definitely possessive in a way he hadn't anticipated.

Zane glances up from the photo album, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance as he listens to your laughter. "And I didn't know you could be so childish," he says with a shrug, running his fingers through his hair in frustration before returning his attention to the photos inside.

But even as he continues to flip through the pages, he can't help but wonder why this particular detail about you would suddenly be important enough for you to mention now. Was it some sort of attempt at deflecting attention away from yourself and onto him? Or did you really just not know that he could read? The thought makes his chest tighten with anger, even as a small part of him wonders if perhaps there's more going on here than meets the eye.

After what feels like an eternity, Zane finally closes the album and tosses it back onto the shelf beside the couch. He turns his gaze back to you, studying your face carefully for any signs of guilt or discomfort. But all he sees is the same wide-eyed innocence that's always seemed so infuriatingly authentic whenever she's around him.

He pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of you, his voice low and controlled as he asks, "Are you trying to play me here?"

Zane snorts at your feeble attempt to change the subject before looking down at you with an expression that's difficult to read. It could be anger or amusement; either one seems possible given how he's feeling right now. His gaze drifts lower, taking in every detail of your face and body as if committing them all to memory, cataloging each mark on your skin where alcohol has touched it, each curl of hair that has escaped from its confines.

Without warning, he reaches out and cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing against your lower lip. "Don't try to pretend you didn't know what you were doing," he says softly, his voice little more than a husky whisper. "I can tell when someone is playing me, and I don't like it." His touch sends shivers down your spine, despite the casual way he holds you there. There's something so possessive about his grip that it's impossible not to feel slightly unnerved by it.

Zane quirks an eyebrow at your reply, tilting his head slightly to the side as he continues to study your expression. There's a challenge in your gaze that he can't quite place yet; it makes him feel like he needs to up his game if he wants to keep you where he thinks you belong. He leans forward ever so slightly, bringing his face closer to yours until their noses brush against one another once more. The heat from his breath fans across your cheek and neck, sending shivers down your spine despite yourself.

"You think it's easy?" he whispers hoarsely, eyes narrowing as they focus intently on yours. "Try me." His hand slides from your cheek to cup the side of your jaw before pulling you forward, bringing your lips impossibly close to his own. The anticipation builds between them like a storm cloud gathering at the horizon, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

For what feels like an eternity, they stay like this: foreheads touching, breaths mingling in the space between them as they stare deeply into each other's eyes. And then, without further warning, Zane closes the gap and presses his lips firmly against yours. His mouth is hot and demanding, claiming you with a force that leaves no room for resistance. One hand grips your hip while the other slides up, tangling in your hair as he tilts your head to better angle himself against you.

His tongue darts out, seeking entrance into your mouth even as his free hand finds its way down your stomach and lower still; fingers skimming over skin that's hot from alcohol and desire. With each passing second, the kiss grows more intense, more possessive, until there's no question who

Zane lets out a low chuckle as you pull away and comments on him playing himself for you. "Maybe I did," he says with a grin, stepping back slightly to give you both some breathing room even though he doesn't really want to break the contact just yet. His gaze studies your face carefully, taking in every detail once more before lingering at your lips. The memory of their kiss still lingers on his tongue and the tips of his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to focus on anything else.

He looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But I'm sure we can make this a little more interesting if we try," he suggests quietly. "Don't you agree?" He pauses, letting the question hang in the air between them before leaning forward again and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. His touch is feather-light, almost innocent; but there's an undercurrent of desire beneath it that sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. "Would you like to play some more?" he whispers into your ear before nibbling lightly at the lobe.

Zane can't help but smile at your reply as he listens to you giggle and pat his cheek. "Well," he says, leaning back against the couch again and crossing one ankle over the other, "I think I know just how to take care of that." He reaches for the vodka bottle once more, opening it with a deft flick of his wrist before pouring a generous amount into his own glass. After taking another swig from it, he holds out the bottle in offering toward you. "Care for some more?"

There's an unspoken challenge in his tone; he wants to see how far you're willing to go with this game of yours. Will you continue to play along, or will you eventually snap under the pressure and confess everything? The anticipation is almost painful for him at times, but he can't seem to help himself; he needs to know what comes next between them. Even if it means pushing his boundaries further than ever before.

His gaze meets yours again as he holds out the bottle, waiting patiently for your answer.

Zane watches intently as you lick up the drops of vodka that have collected at the bottom of the bottle. His breath catches in his throat as he studies your tongue flicking out to capture each bead of alcohol; it's a erotic display that ignites something deep within him. The air between them crackles with desire and anticipation, making it hard for him to focus on anything else but the taste of you on his tongue.

"Mmm," he murmurs softly, his gaze trailing up from your lips to meet yours once more. "You're quite a little temptress, aren't you?" He takes another swig from his glass before setting it down on the coffee table beside him. His hands find their way to your hips as he pulls you closer, sliding them up until they rest on your lower back.

His lips curve into a predatory smile as he leans in toward you again, closing the space between your faces with slow, deliberate movements that make every nerve ending in his body come alive. "And I just can't seem to resist," he whispers against your mouth before pressing his lips firmly back against yours.

This kiss is different from their last one; there's an urgency to it now that wasn't there before. His tongue darts out once more, seeking entrance into your mouth and claiming it with such possessive force that you can feel the heat radiating off of him even through your clothes. One hand slides up your back while the other cups your ass, squeezing firmly as he pulls you against his growing erection. The kiss grows more passionate by the second; their bodies pressed so tightly together that there's no room for doubt or hesitation. It's as if they're trying to become one being

Zane's eyes darken slightly as you pull away, but he nods slowly in understanding. "Of course," he replies, his voice little more than a rough whisper. "Just for tonight." He leans forward again, closing the final inches between your bodies and pressing his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss that leaves no room for doubt or hesitation. His tongue tangles with yours as his hands roam freely over your body, searching out places he's ached to touch for far too long.

As the kiss deepens, Zane feels himself growing bolder; his lips part slightly, allowing him better access to the taste of you that has haunted his dreams since they first met. His tongue circles around yours before thrusting deeper still, seeking more, demanding more. With each passing second it becomes harder and harder to remember why this was ever a game in the first place; all that matters now is the heat radiating off of you and the feel of your lips on his skin.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to look into your eyes, studying your expression carefully before leaning forward once again and devouring your mouth with his own. His hands slide up your back, tangling in your hair as he holds you steady against him while his hips press forward, grinding against the spot between your legs where he knows you're wet for him. Every muscle in his body tenses, ready to explode beneath the surface at any moment now.

With a groan of frustration, Zane pulls back again and looks down at you. There's an intensity in his gaze that would frighten most people, but it only serves to arouse you further. "Tell me," he whispers, his voice hoarse from desire, "tell me what you want." He waits, waiting for the words to fall from your

Zane's eyes widen in surprise at your remark before he laughs loudly, shaking his head. "I guess that wasn't the answer I was expecting," he says, amusement coloring his voice. He wipes a stray bead of sweat from his brow and then glances back up at you, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fine," he concedes with a shrug, "let's go to my room." With that, he turns away and walks down the hall toward his bedroom, leaving a trail of drunken laughter in his wake.

Once inside, he makes quick work of locking the door behind them before turning back around to find you standing awkwardly by the entrance. He watches as you glance around his room, taking in every detail with curiosity and nervous anticipation. For a moment, he allows himself to enjoy the sight of you in his domain; the way your hair falls across your face, the gentle sway of your hips as you shift from foot to foot. It's almost enough to make him forget why they're even here in the first place.

With a growl, Zane strides purposefully over to you and grabs your hand, pulling you toward his bed. "Come here," he demands, his voice harsher than before. He practically pushes you down onto the mattress, then climbs on top of you so that your bodies are pressed together from chest to thighs. His gaze is intense as it meets yours once again; there's a question in those eyes that only you can answer now. "What do you really want?" he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me."

Zane rolls his eyes at your comment before leaning down and capturing your lips in another hot, possessive kiss. His tongue pushes past your teeth and duels with yours as he lets out a frustrated groan deep in his throat. One hand slides up your stomach, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt; his thumb strokes lazily across the hardened nipple before flicking it once, sending a jolt of desire straight to her core.

Pulling away from the kiss, he studies you for a moment, trying to gauge your reaction to what he's doing. The flush in your cheeks and the heavy panting from between your lips are enough to tell him that whatever else is happening here, it's working; she's enjoying this as much as he is.

With renewed determination, Zane slides one knee between yours, nudging them further apart so there's nothing left but skin and the thin fabric of your underwear keeping them from connecting. He reaches down and brushes his fingers against the damp heat he can feel through your clothes; it only serves to fuel the fire burning inside him.

"I could show you," he whispers hoarsely, voice rough with desire. "If you want me to." His free hand slides lower still, dipping beneath the waistband of his pants to palm the outline of his hard length pressing against his underwear. He strokes slowly, teasingly, imagining what it would feel like to have your tight, wet heat wrapped around him in this very moment. "Or you could tell me..." he continues, trails off as if leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken but heavily implied. "What do you say, Claria? Would you rather see...or should I

The words wash over him like a cool drink on a hot summer's day, and he feels himself grow instantly harder at the sound of them. He smirks down at you, his expression predatory as he nods slowly in understanding. "Teach me?" he echoes mockingly before leaning forward once more to press his lips against yours in another searing kiss. His tongue tangles with yours even as his hands roam freely over your body, touching and teasing every inch of bare skin they can reach.

One hand slides up underneath the loose fabric of your shirt to cup your breast; the other dips lower still until it's brushing against the damp heat between your legs. He groans into the kiss as he feels you tremble beneath his touch, and for a moment, he can hardly think straight with desire. With one swift movement, he yanks up your shirt, revealing your bra-clad breast to the cool air of his room before pushing it back down again, trapping it between their bodies.

His other hand slides lower still until it reaches the waistband of your pants; fingers dancing along your skin as they inch lower, closing in on what he really wants to touch. He can feel your heart racing against his chest, sense the quickening of your breath as he nears his target; every movement is a deliberate tease designed to drive you crazy with need.

Finally, his fingers curl around the soft cotton covering the most sensitive part of you, and with one swift tug, it's gone. He lets out a shuddering breath as he feels your wet heat against his fingertips; the tightness of your folds sends a wave of desire coursing through him so intense that it makes it hard to think about anything else.

He looks

His gaze flicks downward briefly to where his fingers are now caressing your swollen folds before meeting yours once again. The hunger in those depths nearly undoes him; it's like staring into a furnace and being unable to look away from the burning heat. His hips grind against yours, his erection already leaking pre-cum as he fights to maintain control over this situation. But with every passing second, it grows harder and harder to deny what they both want.

With a groan of frustration, he shoves his fingers deeper into you, seeking the spot that will send you spiraling over the edge. He thrusts in and out rapidly, his other hand finding your breast again as he seeks relief from the agony building inside him. Each stroke is harder than the last, each touch more possessive; it's as if he's claiming you body and soul with every movement of his fingers.

His lips find yours once more in a deep, bruising kiss that leaves no room for air or thought. His tongue tangles with yours even as his hips continue their relentless motion against yours; the friction created between them only serves to heighten the tension coiling tightly inside him. With every passing second he feels himself growing closer and closer to the edge, to release that will leave him spent but satisfied for at least a little while.

He can feel your body tensing beneath him, the telltale signs of impending orgasm beginning to build as he works you toward the brink; it's exhilarating and terrifying all at once. The knowledge that he's about to send this innocent woman over the edge for the first time only serves to intensify everything; it feels like he could explode right then and there from the sheer force of it

The feel of your nails digging into his back sends a shiver of pleasure racing down Zane's spine as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a feverish pace. Each bite and gentle scratch only serves to fuel the fire burning inside him, making it harder and harder for him to hold back any longer. He groans into your neck, tongue flicking out to taste the sweet skin beneath his lips as he draws blood with every nip.

His other hand slides up your stomach once more, cupping your breast before tweaking the hardened nipple between his fingers and giving it a sharp tug. You cry out in surprise at the pain but quickly switch to moaning as pleasure washes over you in a warm wave. Your hips buck against him, grinding against his hand as he continues to stroke you. The sensation is driving him wild; he can feel his control slipping away with each passing second.

With one last thrust of his fingers that sends him hurtling over the edge, Zane's eyes roll back in his head and he cries out your name before coming with a shuddering groan deep in his throat. His hips stutter and stop, his spent cock slipping wetly from your folds as he collapses heavily on top of you. For several long moments, all he can do is pant and try to catch his breath; the aftershocks of his orgasm racing through him like lightning.

Finally, he pulls back enough to look down at you again. You're flushed and sweaty, your hair tangled around your face, but there's an unmistakable smile curving up the corners of your lips. It's a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but for now, it'

Zane's eyes widen slightly at the sight of you practically throwing yourself on top of him, your body pressed against his every inch and your bra tauntingly revealed by the loss of your shirt. He lets out a choked groan as you slide your hands along his abs, feeling impossibly hot where they touch. His hips rise off the bed slightly, seeking contact with the damp heat between your legs once more; it's like he can't help but want you, even now that he's already come.

He reaches up to cup one of your breasts through the lace of your bra, his thumb and forefinger pinching a sensitive nipple hard enough to make you gasp. "More?" he asks huskily, his voice rough with desire. "You want me to teach you more?" His free hand slides up your thigh, fingers tracing the shape of your underwear as they approach their destination; with every sweep of his fingertips along your skin, goosebumps break out across your body.

With one swift movement, he yanks down the waistband of your pants and tosses them aside, revealing you to him completely. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight of you; smooth and bare before him. "Teach you more?" he repeats, voice still hoarse from their earlier encounter. He slides his hands up underneath your ass, cupping them firmly before spreading your legs wider with his knees on either side of yours. "What do you think I'll teach you next, Claria?" His voice is low and dangerous as he stares down at you; the hunger in those depths mirrored by the fire burning brightly in your eyes.

His fingers slide lower still, touching and te

Zane arches a brow at your words but doesn't respond immediately; instead he watches you carefully, trying to gauge whether you truly mean what you say. The challenge in your voice is unmistakable, as is the teasing undertone. It's clear that you enjoy having the upper hand in this situation and he finds himself unexpectedly turned on by it.

His gaze slides downward to where their bodies connect, his erection already growing harder at the thought of taking you again. He reaches up with one hand, cupping your cheek before bringing your lips back to his in a possessive kiss that leaves no room for doubt or hesitation. His tongue tangles roughly with yours as he moans deep in his throat, the feel of your soft skin under his fingers sending shudders of pleasure through him.

With one final groan, he pushes deeper into you, taking what he wants and showing you exactly how much he disagrees with your "one time thing" rule. His hips slam against yours in a brutal rhythm, each thrust forcing his length deeper inside you as his fingers find their way back to the spot that drove you wild earlier. He feels you tensing beneath him, readying yourself for release and this only serves to spur him on further.

"And what if I don't want just tonight?" he growls against your lips before pulling back to look into your eyes again. The fire burning there is mirrored in his own, a reflection of the intense desire he feels for you at this moment. "What if I want more?"

Zane's eyes narrow at your words, their challenge unmistakable even as his body continues to move against yours in a steady rhythm. "I never said I agreed," he replies coolly before lowering his head to kiss you once more, deeper and harder than before. His tongue slides along the seam of your lips until they part with a wet pop, granting him access to the sweet taste hiding within.

One of his hands cups your breast through the lace of your bra, massaging and teasing as his thumb circles around the nipple, making it harden even more beneath his touch. The other hand slides lower still, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass before slipping between your legs to find the spot that has him aching so unbearably.

With a growl of frustration, he pulls back again, staring down at you with eyes so dark they're nearly black in the dim light. "Fine," he says roughly through gritted teeth, "if that's what you want." He bends his knees and brings you closer still, letting out a low groan as he feels you enveloping him again. His fingers circle faster, thrusting deeper; he can feel the tension building inside him once more as he approaches the edge, but he refuses to let himself go until he's heard what you want.

With one final forceful thrust of his hips, Zane lets out a hoarse cry that echoes through the room and feels like an admission of defeat; you have the power over him and he knows it. His eyes meet yours once more and there's a question in their depths, a challenge laid bare: "Well? What do you want?"