Chapter 2: The Lake House Demands
The old floorboards of the lake house groaned under their weight as Zachary carried her over the threshold, his grip tight enough to imprint his fingers on her skin. He laid her on the cool linen of the bed, the moonlight etching the worry lines back onto his face, but Fatima stopped his descending kiss with a palm flat against his chest. “No,” she breathed, her voice steady, her dark eyes holding his. “Not like that tonight.” She saw the question in his gaze, and she answered it, pulling him down by the collar until her lips were at his ear. “I need you to fuck me like you own me.”
He froze for a heartbeat, the air crackling. Then a low growl ripped from his throat as he flipped her onto her stomach with terrifying ease. His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back, his other hand yanking her hips up into the air. “You want it rough, baby?” he snarled, his cock driving into her wet cunt in one brutal stroke. “Tell me this is what you need.”