His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 92: Olive's Pov

I moaned the second his hand slipped fully beneath my dress, his fingers finding my clit instantly. He circled it slowly, then faster, and a broken sound escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"That's it," he whispered against my ear, his voice dark and possessive. "Let me hear you."

"Zane—"

"Do you want to be fascinated by other men while I fuck you?" His fingers pressed harder, and my knees nearly buckled. "Do you want to be that woman who gets fucked while she thinks of someone else? Do you want to be so imperfectly perfect that you can't even choose?"

I didn't know what he meant. Didn't understand the words because everything he was doing to me was too much, too intense. I needed him, but I was scared. Scared of how much I wanted this. Scared of what it meant.

"I don't know—" My voice came out breathless, shaking. "Someone might come in here—"

"They should understand by now that you're mine."

And then I felt it. Something cold and smooth pressed against my thigh, vibrating softly, and my eyes went wide.

"What—"

He pressed it higher, through the fabric of my dress, and I shivered at the sensation, part pleasure, part shock, part anxiety.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, his voice low and wicked.

I shook my head, unable to form words.

"You're about to find out." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear. "Because I don't do normal, Olive. I don't do sweet. I do hot. And right now, I'm going to make sure you understand exactly what that means."

I tried to process what he was saying, but then his hand moved, spreading my legs wider, and I felt the vibrator, because that's what it had to be, press directly against my pussy through my soaked panties.

The sensation shot through me like electricity, and I gasped, my hands flying to his shoulders for balance.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Now here's what's going to happen. You're going to take this. You're going to let me fuck you with it. And the whole time, you're going to think about whether you want me or him. You're going to fight with yourself. And then you're going to realize there's no choice. There's only me."

"I can't—"

"Yes, you can." His fingers hooked into my panties, pulling them aside, and I felt the vibrator press directly against my entrance, cold and unforgiving. "And you will."

He pushed it inside me slowly, and I cried out at the intrusion, at the way it filled me, vibrating against every nerve ending until I couldn't think straight.

"Zane—God—"

"Louder," he commanded. "I want to hear you."

He pushed it deeper, and I screamed, my entire body shaking with the intensity of it. And then, while I was still trying to catch my breath, I felt his hand move lower, felt something cold press against the tight ring of my ass.

"Wait—" Panic surged through me. "I can't do that—"

But he didn't listen. His fingers worked my clit, pumping into me with two fingers while the vibrator buzzed inside me, and I was so overwhelmed I couldn't even form a coherent thought.

"You can," he said, his voice firm. "And again you will. Because this is what I want. And you want to please me, don't you?"

His fingers curled inside me, hitting that perfect spot, and I moaned so loud I was sure everyone in the club could hear.

“Don’t you?” His fingers curled again.

“Yes I want to.”

"Good. That's my girl," he murmured. "Now relax. Let me in."

I felt the vibrator press against my ass, felt the slow, relentless pressure as he pushed it inside, and oh God, it hurt. It was too much, too intense, and I tried to pull away, but he held me firmly in place.

"Breathe," he commanded. "Relax. You can take it."

And somehow, impossibly, my body obeyed. The pain faded into something else, something dark and filthy and so overwhelming I couldn't do anything but surrender to it.

"Good," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now let's see how long you can last."

His fingers pumped into me faster, harder, while the vibrator in my ass buzzed relentlessly, and I was coming apart. Screaming. Begging. I didn't even know what I was saying anymore, just that I needed more, needed him, needed this to never stop.

"Who do you belong to?" he growled against my ear.

"You—"

"Louder."

"You!" I screamed, my body shaking, my vision blurring as the orgasm tore through me.

But he didn't stop. Didn't let up. He kept going, kept pushing me higher, until I came again. And again. And again. Until I lost count. Until I couldn't remember my own name.

And then, finally, he pulled the vibrators out, leaving me empty and trembling and desperate.

I heard the sound of his belt, heard his zipper, and then he was lifting me, positioning me, and I felt the thick head of his cock press against my entrance.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I forced my eyes open, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there nearly undid me.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he said, his voice rough. "And you're going to remember every second of it. Every thrust. Every moan. Every time you scream my name. And when you're done, when you can't move, when you can't think, you're going to know exactly who you belong to."

And then he slammed into me.

I screamed, my nails digging into his shoulders, my body stretched impossibly full. He didn't give me time to adjust, didn't go slow. He fucked me hard and fast and ruthless, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip so tight I knew there would be bruises.

And God, it was everything.

His mouth found mine, swallowing my moans, his tongue claiming me the same way his cock was. Every thrust hit deeper, harder, until I was nothing but sensation, nothing but need.

"Who else?" he demanded, pulling back to look at me. "Tell me. Who else do you think about?"

"No one—"

"Liar." He thrust harder, and I cried out. "Say his name. I want to hear you say it while I'm inside you."

"Zane—please—"

"Say it."

But I couldn't. Because there was no one else. There was only him. Only this. Only the way he was making me feel like I was shattering into a thousand pieces and being put back together all at once.

"That's what I thought," he murmured, his lips curving into a dark smile.

He shifted the angle, hitting that perfect spot inside me, and I came so hard I saw stars. But he didn't stop. He kept going, kept fucking me through it, until I came again. And again. Until I'd lost count. Until I was sobbing with the intensity of it.

And then, finally, he groaned, his body going rigid, and I felt him come inside me, hot and deep and claiming.

We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, our bodies pressed together, sweat-slicked and trembling.

And then he pulled back, his hand cupping my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice soft but no less intense.

I tried to find my voice, tried to summon the strength to lie, to tell him this didn't mean anything.

But I couldn't.

"You," I whispered, the truth of it settling into my bones.

He smiled, dark and satisfied. "That's right. And don't you forget it."

And as I stood there, my body wrecked, my mind spinning, I realized something terrifying.

He'd won. He'd claimed me in every way possible. And the worst part?

I didn't want him to stop.

I was getting obsessed with him. Addicted to the way he made me feel. And that scared me more than anything else.

Because Zane wasn't just dangerous. He was toxic. Possessive. A fucking bastard who would destroy me if I let him.

And I was starting to think I'd let him do it anyway.