CHAPTER 318

CHAPTER 318
WINTER

He stands at the foot of the bed, eyes locked on mine—dark, burning, unblinking—like he’s already decided how this night ends and I’m just along for the ride.

My heart slams against my ribs so hard I swear he can see it.

He reaches behind his head and yanks the black shirt off in one brutal motion.

It drops to the floor.

Moonlight slides over his chest, tracing every hard ridge of muscle, every pale scar I’ve kissed and bitten and begged against for weeks.

I’ve touched him everywhere, memorized him with my hands and mouth, but seeing him like this—bare, deliberate, offering himself up—makes my throat close. My mouth goes instantly dry.

He kicks his shoes off—quick, careless thuds—then hooks his thumbs into the waistband of those gray sweatpants.

No underwear.

Just him.

He shoves them down slowly, torturously slowly, and his cock springs free—thick, heavy, flushed dark at the head, already glistening. It juts straight toward me like it’s got a mind of its own, like it knows exactly what it wants.

I can’t look away.

My breath stalls somewhere in my chest.

Heat floods between my legs so fast my thighs clench on instinct.

He wraps one big hand around the base.

Gives himself a few slow, firm strokes—eyes never leaving mine. I watch his fist slide up that thick length, thumb circling the slick tip, spreading the bead of precum.

His hips flex forward with each pull, a tiny involuntary thrust that makes my core pulse in answer.

A fresh rush of wetness slicks my inner thighs. I’m soaked. Aching. Empty.

“I’m going in bare tonight, Snowflake. No condom. No barrier. I want to feel every hot, tight, slick inch of you wrapped around me—raw. Want to feel you clench when you come, feel you pulse and milk me when I fill you up. Then I’m gonna pull out and pump it all over your stomach. I want to see my cum painted across your skin—marking you, claiming you, so you can look down and see exactly who you belong to.”

My whole body lights up—nipples tight, clit throbbing, breath coming in shallow pants.

For a second I can’t speak, can only stare up at him, lips parted, trembling.

Then the need overrides everything.

“Do it.”

His hand tightens on his cock.

I see the muscle in his jaw jump, see the way his abs flex like he’s fighting not to lunge.

I lick my lower lip, slow, deliberate, holding his gaze.

“Fuck me raw. Fill me up first… then mark me. I want to feel you drip out of me after. And I want your cum all over my skin so bad I can already taste it.”

His eyes flare. A low growl rips out of his throat—raw, animal.

I’m not begging anymore.

I’m telling him exactly what I need.

And the way he’s looking at me now—like I just handed him permission to ruin me—makes me wetter than I’ve ever been in my life.

He’s on me in the next heartbeat.

One knee sinks into the mattress, then the other, the bed dipping under his weight as he crawls up between my spread thighs.

His body looms—broad shoulders blocking out the moonlight, heat rolling off him in waves.

Every muscle in his arms and chest flexes as he plants his palms on either side of my head, caging me without touching me yet.

His cock brushes my inner thigh—hot, hard, slick—and I gasp at the contact.

He doesn’t stop moving until his hips settle between mine, the thick length of him sliding along my folds, not inside, just gliding through the wetness he’s already pulled out of me. Teasing. Torturing.

He lowers his head until his mouth hovers an inch from mine.

I can feel his breath—ragged, hot—against my lips. His eyes are almost black now, pupils swallowing the irises, locked on me like nothing else exists.

“You sure about this, Snowflake?” His voice is low, wrecked, gravel dragged over velvet.

“Because once I slide in bare—once I feel that tight little cunt swallow me whole—there’s no going back. I’m gonna fuck you deep. Gonna fill you so full you’ll be dripping me for days. And when I pull out? I’m gonna watch every drop of my cum land on your skin while you shake under me.”

He rocks his hips once—slow, deliberate—dragging the head of his cock through my slickness, nudging my clit just enough to make my back arch off the bed.

His hand slides down, rough palm cupping my hip, thumb pressing into the soft skin just above my pubic bone—like he’s already picturing where he’ll paint me.

I’m trembling. Aching. So wet I can hear it when he shifts.

“Tell me,” he rasps.

“Let me hear you beg for it one more time before I bury myself and never let you go.”

“I want it,” I breathe against his mouth.

“I want you bare. I want you deep—so deep I feel you in my stomach. I want you to fuck me until I can’t think, until I’m coming so hard I soak you, until you can’t hold back and you flood me. Fill me up, please—God, please—then pull out and come all over me. Mark me. Paint me. I want your cum everywhere—on my skin, dripping out of me, proof that I’m yours.”

His eyes darken impossibly.

A muscle ticks in his jaw. I feel the shudder that rolls through his whole body—like my words just snapped the last thread of his control.

“Fuck, Snowflake."

I’m already unraveling, and he hasn’t even pushed inside me yet.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters

Then he kisses me—deep, filthy, tongue claiming every corner like he’s trying to brand my soul.

When he pulls back, his eyes are black fire, pupils blown so wide there’s almost no color left.

“I’m going to take you apart tonight.

Slow at first—careful, feeling every little flutter of your greedy cunt around me, every desperate squeeze. Then harder. Deeper. Until you’re shaking, sobbing my name, coming so violently your vision whites out. Over and over. Until your thighs are slick with us, until you’re boneless and wrecked and still clawing at me for more, begging me to ruin you again.”

My body answers before my brain can catch up.

I arch hard off the mattress, hands sliding up the sweat-slick plane of his back, nails dragging down his spine just sharp enough to make him hiss.

His mouth is already moving—hot, deliberate—tracing a slow, wet path down the column of my throat, over the frantic pulse there, across the sharp ridge of my collarbone. Lower.

Lower.

Until his head hovers right above my breasts.

My nipples are so hard they hurt—tight, aching peaks straining against t-shirt.

I arch again, shameless, offering them up like an altar, dying for the wet heat of his mouth.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

“What do you want?” he murmurs.

His eyes lift to mine—holding me captive—

My pussy clenches so hard I feel a fresh gush of slick coat my thighs.

I hook my ankles behind his lower back, heels digging into the hard flex of his ass, trying to yank him down, trying to force that thick, leaking cock right against my swollen clit where I’m throbbing so violently I can barely think.

He resists—easily—smirking down at me like sin personified, eyes heavy-lidded and ravenous.

“Use your words, baby.”

“I want you,” I beg, voice cracking open.

“Please—Your mouth on my tits. That wicked tongue dragging over my nipples until they’re raw and throbbing. I want you to suck them so hard I bruise, bite them until I scream. I want you to tongue-fuck my mouth again while you grind that fat cock against my dripping cunt, tease my clit with it until I’m crying. I need it. I need you—all of you—ruining me until I can’t remember my own name.”

His smirk vanishes. Something feral flashes across his face.

"Whatever you command!"

His mouth closed around one nipple through the t-shirt.

I cried out—sharp, needy—at the sudden wet heat.

His hand came up to cup my breast, squeezing gently while he kissed, licked, sucked the fabric until it was soaked through, translucent, clinging to my skin.

—The friction and suction and heat all at once, making my back bow off the bed, hips bucking up against his cock in frantic little jerks.

He moved to the other breast—same slow torment—mouth hot and relentless, tongue swirling, my thighs trembling around his hips, pussy clenching on nothing, aching to be filled.

My hands slid down his back—over the hard flex of muscle, the ridges of his spine—until I reached the firm curve of his ass. I dug my fingers in, tugging him down harder, grinding myself against the thick length of him.

“Zion…” His name came out broken, pleading.

“Please… I need more. I need you inside me. I can’t wait anymore.”

He lifted his head just enough to meet my eyes—

“Soon...I’m going to take you apart first. Make you come on my tongue. Then on my fingers. Then—only then—on my cock. Until you’re shaking, sobbing, dripping. Until there’s nothing left but us.”

I whimpered—high, desperate—hips lifting again, chasing friction.

One hand fists the thin strap of my top and yanks it down, baring me completely.

Cool air hits my wet nipple for half a second before his mouth is back—bare this time—sucking hard, teeth grazing, the swollen tip in wicked, relentless strokes.

“Enough teasing,” he growls, voice thick with hunger.

“I need you naked. All of you. Right fucking now.”

Before I can even process the words, his hands are moving—fast, rough, impatient.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my silk sleep shorts and the lace knickers underneath in one go.

No preamble. No slow slide. He yanks them both down my hips in a single, brutal tug.

I’m bare now.

Completely.

Legs splayed wide around his kneeling form, pussy glistening and swollen, clit throbbing visibly in the moonlight.

The slickness I’ve been leaking all night trails down my inner thighs, cooling in the air, making me shiver.

He stares for one long, burning second—like he’s memorizing the sight of me spread open and dripping for him—then drops his head again.

But this time he doesn’t go for my breasts.

His big hands clamp around the backs of my thighs, shoving them wider.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, breath scorching my slick folds.

“So wet you’re dripping onto the sheets. That pretty little cunt’s been crying for me..”

He doesn’t give me time to blush or beg.

His mouth descends—hot, open, filthy—tongue flat and broad as he licks a long, slow stripe from my entrance all the way up to my clit.

The rough drag of his tongue sends fire racing through every nerve, and when he reaches the swollen nub, he circles it once—slow, deliberate—then flicks the tip right over it with quick, relentless precision.

A sharp, electric jolt shoots from my clit straight up my spine, making my thighs clamp around his head on instinct.

I cry out—loud, shameless, the sound tearing free before I can stop it—back arching

He growls against me, then seals his lips around my clit and sucks—hard—

My hands fist the sheets.

My hips buck up into his face, grinding shamelessly against his mouth.

I can feel myself clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled, every suck and flick pushing me closer to the edge.

He pulls back just enough to speak, lips brushing my soaked folds, voice wrecked.

“You taste like sin, Snowflake. Sweet and filthy. Im going to eat this pussy until you come on my tongue—then I’m sliding in bare and fucking you until you can’t walk.”

One thick finger plunges inside me—then two—curling hard against that spot while his mouth returns to my clit, sucking and flicking in perfect, devastating rhythm.
I’m shaking.

So close.

The coil in my belly winds tighter with every stroke of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers.

“Zion—please—” My voice cracks, hips grinding frantically against his face.

“Don’t stop—gonna come—gonna—”

He hums approval against me—deep, filthy—and doubles down.

The world narrows to his mouth, his fingers, the relentless pressure building until it snaps.

I come with a scream—back bowing, thighs clamping around his head, pussy pulsing and gushing around his fingers as wave after wave crashes through me.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. Just keeps licking, sucking, fingering me through it—drawing it out until I’m trembling, oversensitive, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

When he finally lifts his head, his chin is glistening, lips swollen, eyes blazing with triumph and raw need.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.