Zip, Zero, Zilch Page 59

“You look so beautiful,” he says. It’s almost like a prayer. His hand lies flat on my stomach. I uncover my face.

“Do you like it?” I ask. “The Zeroes gave it to me.”

“Why do you call yourselves that?” he asks. He turns so that he’s facing me, and his hand skims my body. Goose flesh erupts on my arms and my nipples get hard. He sees it and licks his lips.

“It’s something we started when we got to the group home. Lark and Wren were there first, and they were the Double Zeroes, because their room number was 10 but the one was missing on the door.” The memory of it makes me smile. “They didn’t really want me in their room, but they didn’t have a choice.”

“So, all of you became the Zeroes?” He sweeps a hand beneath my breast, and my breath hitches.

“Zero is rock bottom. We had Zip. Zero. Zilch. And we felt like we’d all fallen from zero. We were about as low as we could go.”

“Then you met Emilio and Marta?”

I nod. “First there was Mrs. Derricks, though. She was the guidance counselor at my school.”

“I knew her. She helped a lot with Pete’s mentor program. That’s why we were at her funeral that day.”

“She saved my life.”

“I’m glad she did,” he says quietly. He drags his fingers down my thigh and hooks the hem of my nightgown. He draws it forward, his gaze hot as he uncovers me. I lift my hips as he goes higher and he stops and stares at me. “Damn, that’s pretty,” he growls.

I hold completely still, except for my heaving chest and my thumping heart.

He dips a finger into my folds and slides it down. I part my thighs for him ever so slightly. “So wet,” he says. He strokes my clit, making small circles.

He’s still sitting next to me, so I reach for his waistband. I pull it down, and his dick bobs up toward his belly button.

I sit up a little and push him onto his back. “Okay…” he says slowly, throwing up his hands. I lean over him and he gathers my hair into his fist, holding it so he can watch me.

A bead of pre-come forms on the head of his dick, and I take it into my mouth, letting the salty essence of him spread across my tongue. He makes a noise, and I see him close his eyes and bite his lower lip. “God, you’re going to kill me,” he swears.

I don’t say anything. I take him further into my mouth, and wrap my hand around the base of his dick, pumping as I take him all the way to the back of my throat. He pushes forward, urging me to take a little more. I gag and he pulls back.

“Sorry,” he mutters, but his feet are jiggling, so I do it again.

A hot flash of come shoots across my tongue and I swallow, but suddenly he grabs me and pulls me on top of him. He adjusts me so that I straddle him, and then he reaches between us to roll on a condom. I watch him and wonder what I’m supposed to do next. I have never been on top, and I’m not sure I want to be.

“I want to watch you,” he tells me. He lifts me so that I’m leaning over him and he kisses me. I feel him nudge against my heat, and the head of his dick slips inside. I gasp against his lips, and he puts his hands on my hips and pushes in a little farther. “Sit up a little.”

I sit up and I slide all the way down on him. A burst of pleasure shoots straight to my center and I gasp.

His hands lift the edge of my nightgown, and he hesitates, searching my eyes, asking for permission. I grab the end of it and yank it over my head. I am naked in so many ways. It’s so much more than just being undressed, and he knows that, if the look in his eyes is any indication.

He cups my breasts in his hands and his thumbs track across the turgid peaks. He lifts them gently, and he moves inside me. I get it. I rise and fall, taking him all the way to the base. I can feel him deep inside.

Very slowly, I lift and take him to the very edge, and then I sink back down on him. He groans and closes his eyes, but his hands don’t stop their wicked moves. My breasts ache, and my whole body trembles.

Sam lowers his hand to my curls and parts my sensitive flesh. My legs falter as he strums my clit, and I have to brace myself with the palm of his hand on my chest. “Don’t stop,” he urges.

He pumps his hips, meeting my every fall, and countering my every retreat.

My movements grow shaky, and I’m not sure I can do this much longer, but suddenly pleasure flashes in the center of me, and I come. I press down with both hands on his chest and ride the wave, gasping as my body convulses, until I can’t take anymore and I fall, weak and spent, onto his chest.

He strokes my back, still thick and hot inside me, spearing to the very center of me.

He rolls us over so that I land on the quilt, and then he flips me onto my tummy. I’m like a ragdoll at this point, so weak and warm that he could do just about anything to me. He lifts me and slides a pillow under my hips.

I cry out when he surges inside me from behind. He’s so big and so hard, and he goes so deep.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice right beside my ear. He covers me completely, and places his lips on my shoulder.

“More,” I say. I push my bottom back against him, and he laughs and plunges deep. He lifts one knee out to the side, and adjusts his body so that he’s going deeper than anyone has before. This time when I come, it’s not a convulsive, body-shaking orgasm. It’s a feeling of warmth that seeps from my center all the way to the tips of my fingers and my feet. I’m hot and satisfied, and he shoves all the way inside me one last time, and grunts in my ear.

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