CHAPTER 321

CHAPTER 321
WINTER

I eventually drifted back to myself—slowly, like waking from a fever dream.

Zion’s head was cradled on my shoulder, my fingers still threaded through his hair in lazy, mindless strokes.

His hand was moving across my stomach—slow, soothing circles that made my skin hum even though every muscle in my body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry.

A small tug on his hair—sharp enough to sting, gentle enough to tease—was all it took for his gaze to lift to mine.

His expression was pure satisfaction—lazy, sated, heavy-lidded—but lust still smoldered underneath, dark and unquenched, like the fire between us hadn’t burned out at all. Just banked. Waiting.

I want to return the favour. I want to suck you?” I whispered, voice hoarse and wrecked from screaming his name.

His eyes flared—black, hungry, almost surprised.

“Fuck, Snowflake,” he breathed, voice gravel-rough and reverent.

He shifted up the bed in one fluid motion, falling onto the pillow next to mine, rolling onto his side so he could watch me.

“You sure? You already took everything I had to give tonight and then some. Thought you’d be done.”

I smiled—slow, sleepy, wicked.

“I’m done when I say I’m done.”

He let out a low, appreciative laugh that turned into a groan when I pressed my hand flat to his chest—firm, insistent—silently telling him to roll over.

He obeyed without hesitation, arms falling wide, giving me whatever I wanted.

I took my time.

Savouring.

My palm slid over his pecs, fingers spreading wide, feeling the shift of muscle under skin, tracing the black ink that wrapped around his ribs and climbed up his shoulder.

Nothing else existed right now.

No. Friends. No enemies. No tomorrow.

Just his warm skin under my palm. Just the way his abs flexed when I dragged my nails lightly down them.

Just the way his cock jerked against my thigh—thick, flushed, already hard again—like it hadn’t just come three times in the last hour.

I leaned down—slow—hair falling like a curtain around us—and closed my mouth over his nipple.

A low, guttural groan tore out of his throat.

His cock jerked hard against my thigh, leaking pre-cum onto my skin.
I tugged lightly with my teeth—testing.

He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Fuck, yeah.”

I released the nipple with a soft pop, tongue flicking over it once more before I started kissing my way down his body—open-mouthed, wet, deliberate.

Every inch I passed flexed under my touch: abs tightening, obliques jumping, hips shifting restlessly. I paused at the V of muscle leading down, breath ghosting over the head of his cock, making it twitch and leak onto his stomach.

“Oh. My. Fucking. Days…” I whispered, almost reverent.

It was magnificent.

Thick. Flushed dark. Veins standing out.

Still glistening from earlier.

Hard again.

Ready again.

Like it had zero intention of quitting tonight.

I lifted one finger—slow—traced the underside from base to tip.

He groaned, hips jerking up involuntarily.

I wrapped my hand around him—firm, warm—and gave one slow stroke.

His head fell back against the pillow.

“Snowflake…”

I didn’t answer with words.

I just leaned down and took him into my mouth.

Hot. Wet. Perfect.

His body jerked, his hips thrusting up, and I fought back the sudden tears that came to my eyes when he filled my throat.

I pulled off to catch my breath, rolling his balls in my hand, the noises falling from his mouth spurring me on.

My tongue swirled around the head—slow, teasing circles—before I sucked lightly, hollowing my cheeks. His hips bucked. A ragged curse ripped out of him.

“Fuck—yes—just like that.”

His hot, hard length throbbed on my tongue, filling my mouth completely.

I’d missed this—missed making him feel good, missed the way his hips would jerk involuntarily when I did something just right, missed the low, broken sounds he tried to swallow but never quite could.

He’d been my first, and—God help me—he’d been my last.

No one else had ever come close.

I pulled back slowly, letting his cock slide out of my mouth with a wet pop, replacing it immediately with my hand.

My fingers wrapped around the thick base—still slick with my spit—and I stroked once, twice, slow and deliberate while I stared up at him.

His eyes were black with lust, pupils blown so wide there was almost no iris left.

Fire.

Pure, burning fire.

He stared right back, chest rising and falling hard, like he was fighting to keep control.

“You like that?” I whispered, voice hoarse from taking him so deep.

“I fucking love it,” he growled, the words scraped raw.

His fingers twisted tighter in the strands of my hair—not pulling, just holding—like he needed the anchor.

“Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

"Yes Sir."

I dipped down again, tongue swirling around the swollen head in slow, teasing circles—flicking the slit, tasting the salt of pre-cum that kept beading there no matter how many times he’d already come tonight.

A low, warning rumble vibrated through his chest and up his throat.

“Jesus—Snowflake—” His voice cracked, hips twitching up like he couldn’t help it.

“That mouth… fuck, that wicked little mouth. You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you? Gonna make me lose it again. Gonna make me come down your throat until you’re choking on it, until it’s dripping out the corners because you can’t swallow fast enough.”

I hummed in reply—long, deliberate vibration that made his whole body jerk.

His grip in my hair tightened to the edge of pain, and I loved it.

Loved the way he was unraveling, loved that I was the one doing it to him.

He growled—deep, feral—and thrust his hips up, driving his cock back into my mouth in one smooth, relentless motion.

The thick length filled my throat in seconds. I gagged—soft, wet—tears instantly springing to my eyes, but I didn’t pull away.

I couldn’t.

Didn’t want to.

I wanted all of him.

Every inch. Every pulse.

He held my head exactly where he wanted it—fingers locked in my hair, hips rolling in shallow, claiming thrusts—fucking my mouth like he owned it. Because right now, he did.

“Fuck—yes—just like that,” he rasped, voice splintering.

“Take it deeper. Let me feel that throat squeeze me. Let me fuck your face like I fucked your pussy. Like I’m gonna fuck every hole you’ve got until you forget anyone else ever existed. You’re mine, Snowflake. This mouth is mine. This throat is mine. You choke so pretty for me—tears running down your face, drool dripping everywhere, still sucking like you need it more than air.”

I moaned around him—vibration ripping another curse from his throat—and managed to get one hand on his balls, rolling them gently, tugging lightly, feeling them draw up tight under my fingers.

His rhythm faltered—hips snapping harder, faster—breaths turning ragged.

Tears came to my eyes as he held my head exactly where he wanted it, choking me on his thick length.

The stretch burned—my jaw aching, throat spasming around him—but I didn’t fight it. I wanted this.

Wanted to feel him lose control because of me.

I managed to get one hand on his balls, rolling them gently, tugging lightly in time with his thrusts, and the low, broken groan that tore from his throat made my own body clench with fresh heat.

“Gonna come,” he warned, voice breaking.

“Gonna fill that perfect mouth. Gonna make you swallow every thick fucking drop. Gonna watch your throat work while you take it all—every spurt—until it’s leaking out because you can’t keep up. Fuck—Snowflake—take it—”

He thrust once—twice—then buried himself deep—nose pressed to my face, cock pulsing as he came—hard—hot, thick ropes flooding my mouth, spilling down my throat.

I gagged—

As I moaned around his dick—vibrating the full length of him—he pushed my head down harder, holding me in place while he came down my throat.

Hot, thick pulses flooded my mouth, spilling over my tongue, and I swallowed greedily, throat working around him even as tears streamed down my cheeks and my lungs screamed for air.

He was shaking—hips jerking with every spurt—groaning my name like it hurt to say it.

His hands finally released their grip on my hair, fingers loosening as he threw his head back with a long, shuddering groan.

His eyes fell shut, lashes dark against flushed skin, face slack with pleasure so intense it almost looked like pain.

I did that.

I made him come apart like that.
Slowly—carefully—I lifted my head, drawing my mouth off him inch by inch.

His cock slipped free with a wet sound, still twitching, glistening with spit and the last traces of his release.

I gasped for air—chest heaving, lips swollen and glistening, chin slick—but my tongue darted out, licking my lips like I was savoring every last drop.

A thin string of cum stretched between the head and my lower lip before snapping. I licked it away instinctively, tasting salt and him.

He opened his eyes—glassy, heavy-lidded, sated and spent—and stared down at me like I was the only thing in the world.

“Come here,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked, rough around the edges.

I crawled up the bed—limbs shaky, body still humming from everything he’d done to me—and collapsed down next to him.

His arms wrapped around me instantly, strong and sure, pulling me against his chest.

I laid my head over his heart, listening to the wild, unsteady thud beneath my ear—fast at first, then slowing, steadying, matching the rhythm of mine.

He ran his hand up and down my bare back—slow, soothing strokes that made my skin tingle everywhere he touched.

His fingers drifted higher, threading through my hair, stroking gently from scalp to ends in long, rhythmic passes.

I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into it—the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his heartbeat felt like a drum under my cheek.

"You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.i fucking love you.”

"I love you too."

I wished we could stay like this forever.

No tomorrow. No outside world. No consequences.

Just this—his arms around me, his fingers in my hair, his breath warm against my temple, the quiet certainty that right now, in this moment, I was safe.

I pressed my lips to his chest—soft, barely there—and felt him exhale, long and slow, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

He kissed my hair—soft, lingering—breathing me in.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against my temple.

“Every hole. Every inch. Forever.”

I didn’t answer.

I just sighed—soft, content—and melted into him.

And in that moment—with his cum-streaked body curled against mine, his heartbeat slowing to match my own, his breath warm against my throat—I knew one thing for certain.

He’s mine.

And tonight—every night—I’ll remind him until he forgets there was ever a time he belonged to anyone else.

Until the only name he knows is mine.

Until he’s ruined.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

Mine.