He slides a finger inside me and it’s just too much. I can’t take it anymore. I need more than just his fingers. I want all of him, buried balls deep inside me, pounding into me until all I see is stars. I reach down for him and inhale, a whole new fire burning inside me when I take hold of his swollen cock. He’s huge, rigid and smooth like warmed marble. The sensation of sliding my hand up and down him is the most intoxicating thing ever.

“Fuck, Sloane.” His body locks up, his muscles as tense as a tautly drawn bowstring. “Fuck!” He can’t wait any longer, either. He snatches hold of me, falling forward so I’m on my back again and he’s on top of me once more. He doesn’t waste any more time. He’s inside me, then, guiding himself into me for what feels like forever. The stretched, swollen feeling of having him inside me is mind altering, like a drug. He can sense how urgently I need him—he must, because he immediately draws himself out and begins to fuck me with the force of a freight train.

I feel like I’m being impaled, he’s so hard. “Oh, shit! Zeth!”

“You okay?” he growls.

I nod, digging my fingers into his back. The sharp bite of pain encourages him, and he powers on, slamming into me over and over. I hold onto his shoulders, clinging onto him for dear life, and he…he ducks his head and kisses my fingers. It feels like everything slows. He…he kissed my fingers. Holy shit. The surprise of his subconscious action doesn’t distract me from my building orgasm. It adds to it. My body is a trembling wreck as he continues to drive himself into me, each one of my synapses firing independently to create a crescendo of sensation across my skin.

“How hard do you want me to make you come, Sloane?” Zeth pants.

“Hard. Really hard. Please. Please.” I half think this might be his payback now; if he pulls out and leaves me like his, it would be very unfair. But it turns out that’s not what he’s got in mind. Instead he slides his hand up my body and doesn’t stop until he reaches my neck. Once he’s there, he curls his fingers around my throat and squeezes. Hard enough to block off the oxygen.

“Zeth!”

“Ride it out, angry girl. You’re gonna like it, I promise.”

I want to claw at his huge hand, try and get it off me, but the look in his eyes makes me think twice about it. I can’t help but feel like this is some sort of a test. I don’t hurt girls, and I will never hurt you. He’s seeing if I trust him. He’s seeing if I’ll let him do this to me without freaking out. Medically, I know I have about eight seconds of consciousness if he’s pressing down on my carotid artery all the way. If he continues to press down longer than that, there’s always the chance of brain damage and death. But…

He’s not pressing down all the way. Feeling that massive hand close around my neck was frightening enough to make me panic, but now I can feel what he’s doing. And it’s not going to kill me. It’s not even going to even make me pass out.

It takes sheer force of will to make my hands slide up to Zeth’s torso, placing them just about as far from my own throat as I possibly can. It’s a trust move—one that doesn’t go unnoticed. Zeth raises his eyebrows, in appreciation or surprise, I’m not sure, and he makes an effort to slow down his movements. He stares down at me as he forces himself deep inside with each push, grinding hard against me, making sure I feel the full length of him as he works his cock in and out of my pussy. I can barely breathe, but I’m not afraid anymore. As soon as I decide not to panic, the sensation of being choked becomes…it actually becomes exciting. The restricted oxygen he’s allowing me—just enough to allow me to see straight—is making my head pound in a dizzying, frantic way. My senses seem to be on hyper alert; the heat of his tongue on me, his teeth skimming the sensitive skin of my nipples—it feels like he’s leaving sparks of fire in his wake. This is the most fearless I’ve ever been. A dangerous man holds my life in his hands, and I’m enjoying it. If I’m honest with myself, I’m loving it.

Zeth’s so deep inside me that it feels as if we’re one carnal creature, moving in unison, working together to reach the same finish line. That finish line is fast approaching on the horizon, too. I can feel it building, cycling around my body, growing and pulsing…until…until…

“Shit. Shit! Oh my g…fucki’mgonnacome,Zeth!”

He promised me it would feel good. It feels better than good. Forget fireworks. This feels like a nuclear fucking bomb is going off inside my head. I try to bite the scream back, but I can’t keep it in check. Since my vocal chords are being depressed, it doesn’t really matter anyway; I barely make a sound.

“Holy hell, girl. Yeah, that’s right. Keep going, keep going. Come for me, Sloane. Come hard.”

I know from the hardening I feel inside me and the strain in his voice that he’s holding himself back, but that doesn’t last long. I make sure of it. I reach down between our bodies and find what I’m looking for. I take hold of his balls and I squeeze gently, working them carefully in my hand, grabbing his ass with my free hand, trying to pull him into me even deeper. I’m a hollow shell after that orgasm, weak and spent, but I manage to open my eyes enough to watch him get his. It’s a beautiful thing to witness. With bared teeth, he slams himself inside me and roars as he releases.

He holds himself up for all of a second and then collapses on top of me, breathing hard. His hands both move to his sides, away from my throat, and I take my first full lungful of oxygen in what must be at least three minutes.