His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 31

OLIVE’s POV

He stepped back between my legs, and I watched his hands go to his belt. Watched him unbuckle it slow, the leather sliding through the loops with this soft whisper sound that made my stomach clench. His eyes never left mine as he popped the button on his pants, dragged the zipper down slowly.

“You’re staring” he said, voice rough

“You’re taking too long. My voice came out breathless, wrecked.

His hands paused. “Impatient?”

Zane, please-

“Please what?” He pushed his pants down just enough, and then he was there-thick and hard and already leaking at the tip. and I couldn’t stop staring because fuck, he was big,

“Use your words. Muthin.

My face burned. “I want you inside me.

“Where?” His hand wrapped around himself, one slow stroke that made his jaw clench. “Be specific.”

“Zane-

“Say it. Another stroke, his thumb swiping over the head. “I want to hear you say exactly what you want.”

“I want your cock inside me.” The words tumbled out desperate and broken. “Please, I need—I need you to fuck me right now.

His eyes went black. “That’s my girl.”

He took one step towards me, grabbing my hips and dragged me to the very edge of the workbench, which felt so cold on my ass, and then I felt him-the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, sliding through my wetness, coating himself.

Im not using anything,” he said, and there was a question in it.

I’m on the pill. I grabbed his shoulders. “Please—

“Good.” He pressed in just slightly, just the tip stretching me. “Because I want to feel all of you this time.”

Then he pushed in.

Slow. So fucking slow. An inch, maybe two, and I was already gasping hard, because he was thick, thicker than anything I’d ever taken, and I could feel myself stretching around him, feel the burn mixing with pleasure. Feeling how my lips parted with every single stretch.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his forehead pressed to mine. Just breathe for me, muttin.”

I tried. Gulped air. But he kept pushing, kept feeding me more, inch by inch, and my nails were digging into his shoulders, my thighs shaking where they were wrapped around his waist.

“Look at me.”

I forced my eyes open.

“You’re doing so good.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “Taking me so well. Just a little more.”

He pushed deeper and I whimpered, and he stopped immediately.

“Too much?”

“No-“I shook my head frantically. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop”

He kept going, slower now, gentle, until finally-finally-his hips pressed flush against mine and he was buried so deep I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except feel how full I was, how completely he was stretching me.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Olive-fuck-you feel—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Just stayed there, letting me adjust his hands rubbing soothing circles on my thighs while I shook against him.

And then I rolled my hips.

Just a little. Testing. Teasing. Feeling how he stretched me.

His grip tightened, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “Don’t-” His voice cracked. “Don’t do that unless you want me to lose control.”

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