Page 62 of Dominate

I hold perfectly still, buried deep in his core. The only motion between us is the rapid rise and fall of our chests.

I reach over to the meal prep. I pick up a fork.

Zane opens his eyes. His pupils are wide with confusion and need. He squirms on the counter, trying to force friction between our locked bodies.

“Ah, ah,” I warn, tightening my grip on his hips to keep him entirely still. I spear another bite of noodles. I hold the fork up to his mouth. “Eat.”

Zane stares at the food, then back at my face. “Micah, fuck.”

“I am fucking you.” I keep my voice low, dropping the words into the heavy air. “I’m buried as deep inside you as I can possibly go. Now open your mouth.”

He parts his lips. I feed him the bite.

He stares at me in disbelief. He chews the warm food while his body accommodates the thick, throbbing length of my cock. He shifts as he swallows, tightening around me. The sensation nearly sends me over the edge. I bite the inside of my cheek to maintain control.

“Good boy,” I praise him, setting the fork down. I lean in, brushing my lips against his jaw. “The whole world thinks you are this untouchable, arrogant king. They watch your press conferences. They analyze your striking. They have no idea you are sitting on my kitchen counter, completely naked, taking my cock while I feed you dinner.”

Zane whimpers. The sound is high and broken. “They don’t know anything.”

“Tell me what they don’t know.” I drag my open mouth down the side of his neck.

“They don’t know I belong to you.” Zane twists his fingers into my hair, pulling my face back up to meet his wild gaze. “They don’t know I want this more than the belt. I only want you.”

That’s what undoes me.

I pull my hips back until the head of my cock rests at his entrance. Then I drive forward, slamming my body against his with brutal force.

Zane screams.

I set a punishing, rapid pace. The kitchen fills with the wet slap of skin meeting skin. The cheap laminate counter creaks in protest under our combined weight. I slide my hands under his muscular thighs, hooking his legs over my forearms to open him wider. I plunge into him, finding the spot that makes him shudder with absolute, devastating accuracy.

“Fuck!” Zane thrashes on the counter. His hands scramble blindly across my back, leaving hot red scratches over my shoulder blades. “Yes. Fuck, that’s it.”

I grind my hips upward, targeting the exact spot.

Sweat drips from my forehead, splashing onto his heaving chest. The heat in the small kitchen turns oppressive. The friction builds a raging, inescapable fire inside my gut.

Zane is a mess of flushed skin and ragged gasps. The pristine Ironside champion ceases to exist. He writhes beneath me, completely undone, surrendering every ounce of control he fights so hard to maintain everywhere else.

“Show me,” I snarl, dropping my head to bite down on the thick muscle where his neck meets his shoulder. “Show me how much you want it.”

Zane loses his mind.

He doesn’t even touch himself. The sheer, overwhelming pressure of my thrusts drags him straight over the cliff. His abdominal muscles lock tight. He throws his head back, a deafening, raw roar ripping out of his chest. He comes hands-free, thick ropes of white fluid spilling over his own stomach and splattering across my skin.

His internal walls clamp down around my cock with the grip of a vise.

I let out a harsh shout. I drive my hips forward one final time, burying myself to the hilt. I empty into him, my body shaking violently as wave after wave of intense release courses through my veins.

I collapse forward.

My chest hits his. I wrap my arms around his wide back, burying my face in his neck. Zane wraps his arms around my waist, holding me in a bone-crushing grip. We stay locked together on the edge of the kitchen counter. Our lungs fight for oxygen, dragging ragged, desperate breaths into the humid air.

The silence of the apartment rushes back in, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator.

Minutes pass. The frantic beating of his heart slows, finding a steady, rhythmic thump against my ribs.

I pull back slowly. The cool air hits the sweat cooling on my back. I look down at his face. The dark circles remain, but the hollow panic is entirely gone. His amber eyes hold relief.