Zoro and his Assassin

Ecstasy 🍋‍🟩

Anya's POV

It's a bit concerning how violently my emotions fluctuate around this man.

One moment, I want to snuggle into his warmth and bare my heart to him. The next, I want to cut his heart out. And then, seconds later, I want to lick him.

In my defense, I was tired, so I rested my head on his shoulder. But then I noticed the pulse thrumming at the base of his neck. I remember reading somewhere that a person's scent is strongest along their neck because of the warmth from the pulse—or something like that.

And Zoro's scent was addictive. He smelled like the sea and the wind, and I had a desperate desire to taste him. He started talking again, and I almost sighed in frustration. Can't he feel what I'm feeling?

But his words bring me crashing back to reality. I can't let this man break me. I have to set the expectations straight. I tell him what my brain wants me to say... the words tasting like ash as they leave my mouth... Easy, no complications... release. Tears prick my eyes at the words I can never take back.

To make myself feel better, I lick him. Just a small, kitten-like lick. He probably didn't even feel it.

He's quiet for so long that I start to think he's going to reject my proposal and yeet me aside. But instead... he kisses me!

I've never been kissed like that before, with such reckless passion. He was like a storm, and all I could do was ride him out.

I felt his hands grab my ass, lifting me effortlessly as he shifted me against his body. My God! I was ready to self-combust. This man was just so hot. My breathing became irregular, my body flushed, and I kissed him back with fervor. I wanted to feel him everywhere. I didn't need air; I just needed Zoro.

My lower belly was wound tight, like an arrow nocked and ready to release. I was already close with just a kiss, but Zoro seemed content with grabbing my ass and kissing me like I was his lifeline. I knew I had to take matters into my own hands. Still straddling him, I threaded my fingers through his soft green hair and pulled his head back. Our lips finally parted, and I took in his face up close. His one eye was still locked on my lips, his cheeks flushed, and his lips swollen red. I could feel him panting slightly, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

It didn't seem fair that a man could be this handsome. The scar should have made him less perfect, but somehow, it only added to his allure. He looked like a male embodiment of pure desire.

I bend slightly and run my lips along his strong jawline. He groans and grinds me harder against him.

"Shit, Princess—I'm afraid I might embarrass myself the first time," he mutters.

I laugh softly and move to kiss his neck, my lips finding his pulse. I bite, suck, and kiss the sensitive spot there. Delicious growls escape him—short grunts and one long, deep moan. That moan sends a shiver through me, traveling from my lips to my core, igniting a line of fire in its wake. The power he has over me is staggering; he can set me ablaze with a single moan. I'm determined to draw as many moans from him as I can.

"Zorooo..." I whine, unable to put into words what I needed. But it seems he understands. His eyes promise that he will give me everything I'm longing for.

He carries me backward toward the table and gently sets me on top. I keep my legs wrapped around his waist, holding him close. He places his hands on my thighs and leans over me. "Princess, you've marked my neck. May I return the favor?" All I can do in response is whimper.

He brings his hand up slowly, as if giving me a chance to pull away. His fingers thread through my hair in a motion that mirrors my own and then sets to destroy me. He starts by nipping right below my ear, his teeth tracing a tantalizing line between pain and pleasure. He moves down to my collarbone, continuing his exquisite torment.