Built

by Jay Crownover

  Was there really any choice, after all those heart-wrenching and soul-stretching words he had just thrown at me? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My vision narrowed and all I could see was the glimmer of jade and the pulse at the base of his throat making the ink that lived there jump. My fingers curled into a fist on my chest and I blinked once.

  “Bed . . . but dinner smells really good, so I want that, too . . . but later.” My voice was whisper thin, but there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in it. I wanted him. I wanted to be the person he had just described. I wanted to be more than I typically felt like I was. There was only warmth and anticipation that sizzled and popped bright and hot under my skin as he prowled around the big island and stalked toward me. He kept coming until the tips of his boots were touching my naked toes and I sighed when his rough fingers reached up and tangled in my hair on either side of my head.

  “I would tell you where the bedroom is, but you already know.” I sounded breathless and not at all like me . . . well, the me I usually was. I totally sounded like the me I was when I got within touching distance of this persistent and hard man. The me that was taking over more and more of my life.

  “Doubt we’re gonna make it to the bed, Say.” He growled the words low in his throat and his hands tightened on the sides of my head. My nipples pulled tight and ached as they hit the lacy fabric of my bra. I put my hands on his lean hips and let my half-naked body absorb the heat that seemed to effortlessly emanate from his enormous frame.

  “Oh.” The word feathered across my lips and they made his eyes twinkle and that smile that transformed him from burly to sexy flash across his face.

  “I like it when you say that. I like it better when you moan it when I’m buried deep inside of you and you’re squeezing me tight.”

  My insides fluttered and I felt my eyes widen. “Zeb . . . the things you say.” I bit my lip and looked up at him from under my lashes. “I don’t know what to do with that.” Because his words made me feel . . . feel so many things, and I couldn’t stop the rush of emotion. I was turned on but it was more than that. I felt desired. I felt wanted. I felt needed. I felt valued. I felt worthy . . . I felt loved.

  He chuckled a little and lowered his head so that his lips could brush against mine. I never wanted to kiss anyone who wasn’t him again. Even that light touch had my knees weak and my center going liquid and soft.

  His lips ghosted across the curve of my jaw and trailed up my cheek until they brushed against my ear. His deep voice was heavy with seduction and promise as he told me, “You don’t have to do anything with the words because they’re the simple truth. You inspire them just by being you, Sayer.”

  His mouth was on mine, his tongue was tangled with mine, my bra was gone, and his callused fingers and rough palms were working the hem of my skirt up my thighs. It was a whirlwind of sensation and all of my senses exploded and filled up with Zeb. I could taste the spicy tomato sauce on his tongue. I could feel his heart where it tip-tapped against my own and my hands delighted in digging into all the hard muscle that stretched taut across him. He was a tactile fest and I wanted to stroke him, hold on to him, dig into him so deep that he couldn’t ever get rid of me. I could hear our labored breathing as he backed me out of the kitchen and the light groans and moans that escaped both of us when his hands curved over my backside as he shoved my skirt up around my waist so that he could pull on the lacy panties that matched my abandoned bra. I could smell that scent of wood and work that clung to him no matter what and all I could see was green bleeding into the endless black of desire in his gaze as we hit the stairway in the living room that led up to my bedroom.

  Maybe if I was more graceful, more familiar with these kinds of situations, I wouldn’t have stumbled. Maybe if I was used to mind-blowing sex and wanton desire, I could have pulled away and taken his hand while leading him seductively up to my lair. Maybe if I was confident and poised in my sexuality, I wouldn’t have teetered and faltered, I wouldn’t have tripped and fallen just like my heart was bound and determined to do every time I was around this man.

  But I was just me, the girl who was so overwhelmed by him, by the things he made me feel, so my knees were weak and I lost my balance when he pressed into me and I landed with a grunt on my exposed backside. Suddenly having my skirt shoved up around my waist and being mostly naked in the middle of my house seemed less sexy and way more silly. I groaned and went to drop my head in my hands in embarrassment because only I could ruin such a sexy and heated moment in such a gloriously inept way, but I didn’t get a chance because Zeb’s hands were on my waist and he was urging me up another step as he fell to his knees before me. I never in my life thought that being manhandled would be a turn-on, but the way he effortlessly moved me where he wanted me made my skin prickle in arousal and had me clutching his wide shoulders as his hands skimmed the last scrap of lacey undergarment I was wearing down my legs.

  “What are you doing?” I felt like all the control, the purpose I held on to, was fraying and unraveling all around me. Instead of making me panic, the feeling was fuzzy and filled me up with something soft and indulgent. It felt decadent and lush.

  “I told you we weren’t going to make it upstairs.”

  His deep voice was even huskier than normal, and I shivered at the way it rumbled out of him. His eyes gleamed at me like polished stones, and when he shifted so that he was directly between my spread legs, I could see his erotic intent reflected back at me. I wasn’t the type of girl to let a guy go down on her without several dates and a strong sense of comfort built into the relationship. It was too intimate, too open and raw, so it generally made me too tense to enjoy, but here I was on the stairs in the center of my house, not caring that the lights were on, the windows were open, and I wanted it. God, did I want him to lower his head and fulfill all those dark and dirty promises his eyes were making me.

  I leaned back on my elbows on the stair that was behind me and whimpered a little bit when he tickled the inside of my thigh with his work-roughened fingers as he put one of my legs over his shoulder. Thank God for yoga and mornings at the gym. Even with him a few steps below me he was still so tall and so big, so it was a stretch and it burned . . . in a really good way.

  I was pretty sure I was blushing the brightest red possible, even in those hidden, sweet places he was now staring directly at. I gulped a little bit and squeezed my eyes closed as tightly as they would go.

  “You are flawless. You know that, right?” I felt his words right before the damp press of his lips hit the inside of my knee. The soft brush of his facial hair had goose bumps chasing his mouth as he kissed his way up the inside of my leg. I’d never felt flawless, just honed and polished to a perfect shine that reflected back what I thought everyone wanted to see. With Zeb’s mouth on mine and his hands touching me like I was something rare and precious, that shine was starting to dull, to get marked up, and all the rust and tarnish that went way down inside of me was starting to show.

  One of his hands curled around my hip and the other made me jolt as his fingers dipped between my legs and danced between folds and into places that were already wet and aching. I muttered his name on a drawn-out sigh and shifted so that I could wind my fingers into the thick mess of his dark hair. I wanted to hold him to me forever, and if I thought the tickle of his beard against my lips was addicting I knew that I would never recover from the way it felt rubbing against the sensitive skin at the apex of my thighs. It was rough and springy. It scraped across my skin at the same time as his fingers stroked inside my body and his clever tongue landed on my clit.

  I think I screamed. I probably screamed because he chuckled against my throbbing center and continued his overwhelming stimulation. I was pulling on his hair, urging him closer and closer even though he was invading all my private places in the most devastating ways possible. He added another finger to the wetness he was coaxing out of me and the gentle nip of teeth. It had my hips arching up off the step I was sitting on and my legs quaki
ng where they rested next to his head. There wasn’t any place to hide from him or the feelings and emotions he had coursing through me. It was a lot to process and I was shocked that I wanted more. I was stunned when the words flew out of my mouth between pants and his name. I asked him to destroy me, to own me, to push me over the edge and leave me shattered in the aftermath. I didn’t use those words exactly, but when I told him “more,” and “deeper,” and “harder,” I think he understood the message.

  Suddenly he had my hips in his hands and was lifting them up to his face. The sheer strength this required made me melt, and when he barked at me to touch myself right before his tongue filled up the empty space his fingers had left, I thought I was going to evaporate into nothing. He was fucking me with his mouth, his hands were hard on my skin, leaving marks I knew I would stare at with a mixture of awe and pride in the morning, and I was letting my own fingers drift over that intense spot of pleasure with a deftness I had never, ever known myself to have. The thought of all the times I had done this to myself while thinking of him, while imagining him doing this very thing to me, was enough to have me convulsing and enough to have pleasure rushing across my fingers and flooding his quick tongue with desire. He groaned deep in his chest, a heavy rumble of satisfaction, and it was so hot. We were so hot and I couldn’t believe it. There was nothing cold or icy crawling up my spine, just languid satisfaction and the need to make him feel as good as I felt.

  He let my legs fall limply to his sides and bent forward to place a kiss right above my belly button. I sighed at the abrasion of his beard against my skin there and shivered from the wet kiss of what was left of my orgasm where it clung to him and now to me as well. It was sexy as hell and I wanted to touch his lips where they smirked and shined at me.

  “Flawless.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I decided not to say anything at all.

  The fabric of my skirt was still all twisted around my waist and I wanted it gone, so I sat up and started to wiggle out of it. Once it was in a heap on the stairs at my feet and I was totally naked, I finally managed to find some composure, rose to my feet, and held out a hand that he immediately clasped in his own.

  “You know how amazing my bedroom is since you built it. We might as well put it to use.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at me and rose to his feet. The bulge in his pants was unmistakable and so was the hungry look in his eyes. Walking buck-ass naked in front of any man, but especially a man as confident and secure in who he was as this one was, would typically rank up there with all of my worst nightmares, but there was something heady in the air around us, something languid inside of me after all of his wonderful, wild words, that made me feel powerful and in control in a totally different way than I normally was.

  Thankfully my room wasn’t a tornado of discarded clothing and scattered shoes like it usually was after I got ready for work. I hit the light by the bedside and turned to face the mountain of delectable man that had followed me into the room. He was already pulling his shirt off and stripping out of the white tank top he had on underneath. My fingertips tingled with the desire to trace the endless miles of ink that covered his chest and my mouth watered when his muscles rippled and flexed as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it on the unmade bed over my shoulder. It was my turn to lift an eyebrow and he just shrugged.

  “We’re gonna need it later, and if I work things right, my pants aren’t going to be on hand.”

  He made me laugh. He made me do a lot of things I didn’t typically do, and for the second time in my life I kissed a boy. I took charge, stepped into him so that our bare chests pressed together, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders so I could kiss him. He rested his hands on my hips and didn’t push, didn’t rush me, just let me lean into him and taste and explore. It was intoxicating and I just wanted to taste him and feel him pressed against me forever. I pulled back when my lungs felt like they were going to burst, but since I was being bold, owning the confidence that he somehow siphoned into me, I reached for his belt and started working on getting him as naked as I was.

  “The bed is right there and you said clothing wasn’t optional if I picked option number two, so you need to catch up, Zeb.”

  He laughed and it sounded a little strained as he took a step back from my eager fingers so he could kick off his heavy boots and drop his pants and boxer shorts in a pile on the floor. His cock was hard and pointed up at his washboard belly as he moved back toward me. The sight of all that male perfection made my mouth water and I couldn’t stop myself from licking my lips. He groaned when he watched the action and grabbed his substantial erection in his fist and gave it a couple pumps.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone so badly that it hurt, Say. Only you.”

  I put a hand on his chest and twisted so that I could guide him down on the edge of the bed as he reached for me. I put my hands on his shoulders once he was sitting with his legs spread and leaned forward so I could kiss him again.

  “I don’t want to make you hurt. I’ve been trying to avoid that from the start.”

  It was my turn to fall on my knees before him, a position that usually made me unsure and anxious, but before this man made me feel beautiful and strong.

  “Not gonna last very long with you naked and your mouth on me.” His voice was raspy as his hands wrapped the long strands of my hair through his fingers.

  I breathed out and his dick twitched in response. I put my hands on his rock-hard thighs and looked up at him from under my lashes. “I just want a taste, Zeb.”

  His jaw locked and his skin flushed. “Whatever you want, Sayer.”

  I just wanted him in all the different, lurid ways I had been dreaming about since I’d first met him. I took a deep breath because again this kind of intimacy normally freaked me out and I generally treated it as a chore. With that turgid, restless erection right in my face, twitching and moving the closer I got, there was no room for anything but anticipation and willingness. Nothing I did with Zeb or for Zeb felt like something I had to do. I wanted to do it and I wanted to do it over and over again.

  I dragged my tongue along the throbbing vein that ran along the underside of his cock and was rewarded with a deep groan. He was salty and, like all of him, somehow woodsy and earthy. When I reached the plump head he was already leaking out his pleasure and I swirled my tongue around it with a delicate twist. His hands got harder in my hair and pulled me farther down his impressive length. I complied with his silent command and wrapped my fist around the base of the straining erection. His hips shifted on the bed and I heard his breathing turn ragged as I sucked and pulled him farther and farther into my mouth.

  He muttered my name and I couldn’t recall ever hearing anything sound as sweet. The feeling of being in control of such a big man, of owning the things that were happening to him, the knowledge that I was the one in charge of his pleasure, was turning me on all over again. I wanted him and the fact that he wanted me just as badly, the fact that I could feel it and taste it, burst across my tongue and did more to defrost the parts deep down inside of me that I thought would never warm up.

  I was using my hand in tandem with my mouth to wring him out and string him taut. His breathing was loud in the quiet of the room and every part of him I was touching was marble hard and tense to the point of shattering. He was holding on to my head and guiding me farther and faster down his length when he suddenly swore and yanked me off of him. I squealed in a very unsexy way as he picked me up and tossed me into the center of the bed and crawled up and over me. He kept himself propped up with one arm while he scrambled for his wallet with the other.

  “I want inside, Sayer. That’s where I belong.”

  I couldn’t argue with this because I was starting to think he was right. Plus I was all achy and empty again and I wanted him to fill me back up. I curled my hands around his back and flattened my palms against the wide plank of muscle that flexed under my touch.

  “Whatever you want, Zeb.”


  Those dark green eyes shone at me as he positioned himself at my entrance and slowly made his way inside the welcoming stretch of my body. We both let out a whispered sigh and his mouth fell over mine.

  “Everything, Say. I want everything.”

  I didn’t have anything to give, let alone everything, but I wasn’t inclined to try to stop him from trying to take it. I kissed him quiet so he couldn’t speak anymore and arched up into him as he started to move over me. I felt like he was doing the same thing to my body that he had done to my house, changing things, rearranging them, making it his own, and creating a space inside that only he could fill.

  He was everywhere. His mouth on mine, his breath in my lungs, his chest rubbing tantalizingly across my nipples, his hips hammering into mine, his body making mine move across the bed with the force of his thrusts as his hands skipped over every part of my skin that he could reach.

  He wasn’t gentle with me and I loved it. He fucked the way he did everything else in his life. With unrestrained passion. With purpose. With determination. With single-minded focus on his goal . . . in this case, it was obvious his goal was to make me mindless with pleasure. His beard rubbed across my throat and his teeth nipped into my skin.

  I whimpered and moved my legs up around his waist when he clutched my thigh with one hand. The new position drove him deeper and pushed us closer together. Every time he pulled out slightly and slammed back in, I felt him rub against my clit in the most delicious way. I refused to just hold on for the ride. There was no way I could just take what he was giving and not be wholly invested in the sensations we were both drowning in. I put one hand back in his tangled hair and the other on my breast and squeezed the pert tip until it hurt in a really pleasurable way.

  Zeb grunted as he watched me and I felt his big body tense up above me.