Chapter 44: Forty four
Zander
I couldn’t breathe.
Iris was still wrapped around me, her legs locked tight at my waist, her pussy fluttering around my cock with the last ripples of her orgasm. My cum was leaking out of her, hot and thick, sliding down her thighs and dripping onto the floor. Her tits were pressed against my chest, nipples hard, skin flushed and sweaty. She was trembling. I was trembling.
And I still hadn’t pulled out.
My forehead rested against hers. Our breaths mixed in the small space between us, ragged and uneven. My cock twitched inside her again, still half-hard, still unwilling to leave the tight, wet heat that felt like it had been made for me.
What the fuck had I just done?
I had fucked her like an animal. No gentleness or control. Just raw, angry, desperate need. I had slammed into her against the wall, bit her shoulder, choked her throat, and filled her with so much cum I could feel it overflowing every time I shifted. And she had taken it. She had begged for it. She had come so hard her screams still echoed in my ears.
“Fuck me.”
Those two words from her mouth had snapped the last thread of restraint I had left.
Now the silence was crushing.
I finally pulled out slowly, both of us hissing at the drag. A thick trail of my cum followed, running down her inner thigh. The sight made my cock twitch again, already wanting back inside her. I forced myself to step back, setting her feet on the floor. Her legs shook. She leaned against the wall for support, dress torn open, breasts exposed, lips swollen from my kisses.
She looked ruined.
She looked perfect.
I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to find words that wouldn’t sound completely insane.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I said, voice hoarse.
Iris lifted her chin. Her amber eyes were still glassy with aftershocks, but the fire was back. “You shouldn’t have opened the door.”
I laughed once, bitter and broken. “I didn’t plan on it. I was halfway through the bottle when you knocked.” I glanced at the shattered glass on the floor. “Now look at us.”
She didn’t smile. She just watched me, breathing hard, thighs pressed together like she was trying to keep my cum inside her. The thought sent another spike of heat through me.
I wanted to drop to my knees and lick it out of her.
I wanted to bend her over the couch and fuck her again until she couldn’t walk.
I wanted to drag her to my bed and keep her there for days.
Instead I forced myself to stay where I was.
“Why did you come?” I asked. My voice came out rougher than I intended. “After everything my father said last night. After the way I grabbed you in that hallway. After… everything Celeste said to you yesterday. Why the hell would you come here and ask me to fuck you?”
She looked away for a second, jaw tight. When she met my eyes again, there was something raw and conflicted in them.
“Because I’m tired of pretending,” she said quietly. “Because I hate you. Because I want you. Because I can’t stop feeling this pull and I don’t know how to make it go away.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I stepped closer again, unable to stay away. My hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. “You should hate me. I am engaged to be married to a spoilt brat whose father probably took a picture of you and made it go viral, not only that my father said some nasty words to you and still I hurt you by taking advantage of you...”
Her eyes darkened. “Yes. You did.”
“Then why let me inside you?” I whispered. “Why let me fill you up like I have any right to?”
“Because maybe I’m just as broken as you are,” she answered. Her voice cracked. “Because when you touch me, the pain feels different. It feels like… something I can survive. Something I want to survive.”
I rested my forehead against hers again. My cock was already hardening again, pressing against her stomach. Her scent was everywhere sweet, aroused, mixed with my cum. It made my wolf pace and snarl inside me, demanding more.
“I don’t know what this is,” I admitted. “I don’t know what my father knows or what he’s hiding. I don’t know why the thought of you with anyone else makes me want to tear this city apart. But I know one thing.”
I tilted her chin up so she had to look at me.
“I’m not letting you walk out that door thinking last night was a mistake. And I’m sure as hell not letting you walk out thinking this was a mistake.”
Her breath hitched.
I leaned in, lips brushing hers.
“So tell me, Iris,” I murmured, voice dark and low. “Do you want me to stop? Or do you want me to carry you to my bed and fuck you again until neither of us can remember why we’re supposed to hate each other?”
She didn’t answer with words.
Instead she reached down, wrapped her hand around my cock, and stroked me slowly from root to tip, spreading our mixed slick over the length.
Her eyes met mine, burning with the same conflict I felt.
“Then don’t stop,” she whispered.
And just like that, the war started all over again.
But this time, I wasn’t sure either of us wanted to win.