Page 48 of His Atonement
"Asshat fuckstick shithead cocksucker!" Thigh muscles spasm and twitch, calves do the same and I don't even give a shit that Zan is probably watching the whole shit show play out with that sardonic grin on his face. "Motherfucking asshole prick!"
My chest heaves as I finally loosen up, as the spasms and tremors stop but I just stand there, let my pulse return to a semi-normal pace and try to power through. I shake it off, hold my head high and walk over to the bow I threw earlier, grab that and an arrow and try my hand at archery again but my arms are too weak after all that, too sore and unpredictable.
Three more failed attempts to line up the arrow appropriately has me seconds away from another outburst before strong hands park themselves on my hips and turn my body.
"You need to stand like this." Zan's breath fans the side of my neck, making me shiver from head to toe as he uses his foot to kick open my legs. "If you do not have proper form, then you will not be successful."
He steps closer, and presses his chest to my back.
My entire body feels like it's on fire and when Zan's fingers ghost down my arms until they cover my own, I feel like I might spontaneously combust.
"Archery, much like throwing a tomahawk, is all about what you do with your body.” He lifts my arms, places the arrow in the bow and leans impossibly closer. "The way you stand, the way you move, the way you feel even the slightest caress of the wind, the smallest kiss of the sun’s rays."
My eyes flutter closed and I bite back a moan.
I had no idea archery was so fucking erotic but once again, Zan made something as mechanical as this seem like foreplay.
He pulls my right arm back, lines up the arrow but I don't open my eyes, don't watch what he's trying to teach me.
No, instead I breathe deep that rose water with a touch of spice, inhale that scent so deep into my lungs and fight the urge to lean back into him.
And when he releases the arrow from our fingers, the sound of it slicing through the air before it connects with the target is the farthest thing from my mind.
I'm so in tune, so hyper aware of the way Zan is still pressed up against me that I can't focus on anything but that and almost miss his rumble of satisfaction that surges through my back.
"Good."
It is good.
So fucking good to have him this close, so fucking right to be surrounded by Zan.
So good and right, when he lets go of me and puts space between us I actually whine in protest.
“Again," he grunts as he grabs another arrow, holding it out for me to take.
But I wasn't paying any attention to anything but him, so I just blink like an idiot.
Zan smirks, and nods toward the target. "Not dead center but you actually hit it this time."
Well I'll be damned, I did.
Too bad it was probably him and not actually me, so repeating it is useless.
But because he is smirking at me like an asshole, I snatch the arrow and try anyway, stand the way he positioned me then my goddamn arm starts to jerk.
I lower it, try to shake my muscles loose, raise it and wind up doing that three times before I start to get frustrated all over again.
"Motherfucker—"
“Here." Zan steps behind me and plasters his body to mine, positions himself closer than before. "Focus on the way your arms move, the way we move together."
Awesome.
Now I'm picturing us moving together in a completely different way, one where we're naked and horizontal, my pulse skyrocketing from the thought alone.
And when I feel what is very clearly Zan's dick digging into my butt cheek, I groan and lean back into him.
He hisses sharp, hisses like a goddamn snake as he pulls my arm back, grinds his hard-on against me just a tiny bit, but stops immediately because my whole right arm jerks and sends the arrow skyward.
