Uncivilized
Page 39
I sink my finger into her, and Moira bucks against me. Her mouth pulls from mine slightly and she bites my lip, causing me to jerk away. I look at her with surprise, and her eyes challenge me to continue the kiss.
Fuck yeah, I can take a little biting. As my finger pumps in and out of her, I crash my lips back to hers and kiss her with savage need.
Moira’s hands go to the button on my shorts and she works at it frantically, practically ripping the zipper as she slams it down. Her soft, warm hands reach in to take my c**k and oh, f**k… that feels like heaven.
I’ve never had a woman’s hand on my c**k before. So f**king good.
She strokes and squeezes me, causing my finger to thrust harder into her hot flesh, while my head spins with dizziness. I feel like I’m going to break apart in just a few more short strokes of her hand so I rip away from her, my chest heaving with the exertion of trying to maintain some level of control.
Moira stands there, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed, and her breathing just as heavy as mine is.
I look down at my hands, and they’re shaking.
Fucking shaking.
“Zach?” Moira says softly.
My eyes rise to hers slowly.
“I want to do something to you,” she whispers. “I want to take you in my mouth.”
Oh, f**k.
A seismic shudder runs through my body at the thought. Yes, yes, yes. I want that very much. Having her mouth wrapped around my cock, just like I saw that woman in the video I watched. The imagery of Moira doing that to me is almost too much to bear. I’m not sure I could keep control. I’m fairly certain she would break me.
“No,” I tell her. “Not yet.”
“What?” she asks stunned. “But I want—”
“Turn around,” I order her. “Bend over the kitchen table.”
“Zach?” she asks uncertainly.
“Just do it,” I order her. “I want to f**k you from behind.”
Because it’s too intimate to stare at her face. I just can’t handle the feelings that will invoke.
Disappointment fills her eyes and, for a brief second, I reconsider. But I can’t let her have the control. It’s the only thing left of my true nature, and if she takes that, then she takes everything from me.
Moira inhales deeply through her nose and lets it out softly through her mouth, before turning away from me. But she doesn’t walk to the table, instead striding right past me to her purse on the table by the door. She grabs it and opens the door.
“I’m going out to buy you a cell phone. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
She doesn’t even look at me again as she walks out the door and shuts it behind her.
Chapter 12
Moira
I’ve avoided talking to Zach for three days now. It’s not been hard, since he’s not talking to me. I’ve offered to take him places but he’s declined, stating that he had some books he wanted to read. He’s sequestered himself in his room and comes out at meal times, eating silently and acknowledging any questions I might have with short, one-word answers.
I know I shocked him when I wouldn’t do as he demanded the other day. God, I wanted so badly for him to f**k me from behind like he ordered, but something inside of me refused to bend. Zach is shying away from the intimacy involved in sex, trying to hold on tight to his control. I have a feeling that losing his discipline may be too much for Zach to bear at this moment, and I don’t want him to do something he’s not comfortable with.
Yet, I can’t be the one that bends to his every whim either. I’m not built that way. Not for the long term anyway.
I’ll never regret for a moment giving in to him that first time. Letting him pin me to the floor in a glorious display of superior dominion. It’s something I had been naughtily dreaming of since the day I first laid eyes on him. I know Zach’s inherent nature is to dominate, to force submission, and even the second time we had sex, he had to assert his will on me.
Once the dam was broken within me, I knew there was no going back. I couldn’t undo what we had done, and I don’t want to. I also want to do it again, and again, and again with him. But I have an inherent nature too, and I desire having a two-way street when it comes to my sexuality. I like to give, and I want him to receive, but Zach has to want that too. And unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like he wants that at all.
I’m also a woman—let’s not forget that. And it about killed me when Zach walked away from me the other night, even as I still had sparkles of pleasure coursing through me. Any fantasies of Zach pulling me in his arms and stroking my hair with tenderness were quashed right there.
So I’m not sure where that leaves us. My feelings are tied up, but I also have to keep my eye on the prize. And that’s making sure Zach has a healthy adjustment here in this new world he’s facing. I can’t do that if we’re both tied up in knots over the uncertainty of where we stand with each other. The only problem is, I don’t know how to approach any of this with Zach, so I’ve kept my silence and bided my time.
Unfortunately, time is up. Randall Cannon is eager for us to visit him in Atlanta, and I can’t put him off any longer.
Walking back to Zach’s room, I knock softly on the door. “Zach?”
I can hear the creak of the bed and then footsteps. He opens the door, just a few inches, and peers out at me.
“You got a minute to talk?”
“Sure,” he says, following me out into the living room. He’s wearing a pair of olive green cargo shorts and nothing else. They ride low on his lean hips, and I wonder if there will ever be a time that I can look at him without my mouth going dry.
Fuck yeah, I can take a little biting. As my finger pumps in and out of her, I crash my lips back to hers and kiss her with savage need.
Moira’s hands go to the button on my shorts and she works at it frantically, practically ripping the zipper as she slams it down. Her soft, warm hands reach in to take my c**k and oh, f**k… that feels like heaven.
I’ve never had a woman’s hand on my c**k before. So f**king good.
She strokes and squeezes me, causing my finger to thrust harder into her hot flesh, while my head spins with dizziness. I feel like I’m going to break apart in just a few more short strokes of her hand so I rip away from her, my chest heaving with the exertion of trying to maintain some level of control.
Moira stands there, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed, and her breathing just as heavy as mine is.
I look down at my hands, and they’re shaking.
Fucking shaking.
“Zach?” Moira says softly.
My eyes rise to hers slowly.
“I want to do something to you,” she whispers. “I want to take you in my mouth.”
Oh, f**k.
A seismic shudder runs through my body at the thought. Yes, yes, yes. I want that very much. Having her mouth wrapped around my cock, just like I saw that woman in the video I watched. The imagery of Moira doing that to me is almost too much to bear. I’m not sure I could keep control. I’m fairly certain she would break me.
“No,” I tell her. “Not yet.”
“What?” she asks stunned. “But I want—”
“Turn around,” I order her. “Bend over the kitchen table.”
“Zach?” she asks uncertainly.
“Just do it,” I order her. “I want to f**k you from behind.”
Because it’s too intimate to stare at her face. I just can’t handle the feelings that will invoke.
Disappointment fills her eyes and, for a brief second, I reconsider. But I can’t let her have the control. It’s the only thing left of my true nature, and if she takes that, then she takes everything from me.
Moira inhales deeply through her nose and lets it out softly through her mouth, before turning away from me. But she doesn’t walk to the table, instead striding right past me to her purse on the table by the door. She grabs it and opens the door.
“I’m going out to buy you a cell phone. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
She doesn’t even look at me again as she walks out the door and shuts it behind her.
Chapter 12
Moira
I’ve avoided talking to Zach for three days now. It’s not been hard, since he’s not talking to me. I’ve offered to take him places but he’s declined, stating that he had some books he wanted to read. He’s sequestered himself in his room and comes out at meal times, eating silently and acknowledging any questions I might have with short, one-word answers.
I know I shocked him when I wouldn’t do as he demanded the other day. God, I wanted so badly for him to f**k me from behind like he ordered, but something inside of me refused to bend. Zach is shying away from the intimacy involved in sex, trying to hold on tight to his control. I have a feeling that losing his discipline may be too much for Zach to bear at this moment, and I don’t want him to do something he’s not comfortable with.
Yet, I can’t be the one that bends to his every whim either. I’m not built that way. Not for the long term anyway.
I’ll never regret for a moment giving in to him that first time. Letting him pin me to the floor in a glorious display of superior dominion. It’s something I had been naughtily dreaming of since the day I first laid eyes on him. I know Zach’s inherent nature is to dominate, to force submission, and even the second time we had sex, he had to assert his will on me.
Once the dam was broken within me, I knew there was no going back. I couldn’t undo what we had done, and I don’t want to. I also want to do it again, and again, and again with him. But I have an inherent nature too, and I desire having a two-way street when it comes to my sexuality. I like to give, and I want him to receive, but Zach has to want that too. And unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like he wants that at all.
I’m also a woman—let’s not forget that. And it about killed me when Zach walked away from me the other night, even as I still had sparkles of pleasure coursing through me. Any fantasies of Zach pulling me in his arms and stroking my hair with tenderness were quashed right there.
So I’m not sure where that leaves us. My feelings are tied up, but I also have to keep my eye on the prize. And that’s making sure Zach has a healthy adjustment here in this new world he’s facing. I can’t do that if we’re both tied up in knots over the uncertainty of where we stand with each other. The only problem is, I don’t know how to approach any of this with Zach, so I’ve kept my silence and bided my time.
Unfortunately, time is up. Randall Cannon is eager for us to visit him in Atlanta, and I can’t put him off any longer.
Walking back to Zach’s room, I knock softly on the door. “Zach?”
I can hear the creak of the bed and then footsteps. He opens the door, just a few inches, and peers out at me.
“You got a minute to talk?”
“Sure,” he says, following me out into the living room. He’s wearing a pair of olive green cargo shorts and nothing else. They ride low on his lean hips, and I wonder if there will ever be a time that I can look at him without my mouth going dry.
