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As we gaze adoringly at each other, I mutter a silent promise that I’ll always be there to make him feel better.
“This is amazing,” I say, nodding to the view of the city, the glimmering metal landscape seeming so small beneath us.
“I bet you’re itching to get your painting supplies, eh?”
My cheeks blush as he reads me like a book, as he looks inside of me and picks out the truest parts of me. “You really are a mind reader, you know that?”
He gestures to the table, where glittering silver cutlery sits neatly laid out. There’s a glass vase displaying a single red rose, full in its flowering, and two menus, one for each of us. “The restaurant across the street is going to bring our food up for us. We can choose whatever we want and then I’ll give them a call. I thought it would be good for us to have some privacy.”
Fear quivers through me when I think about Jerry. When I think about the reason for us needing this privacy.
“And not just for the reasons you’re thinking,” he snarls passionately. “I know I said I wanted to show you off, but looking at you now, goddamn, I don’t think I could stand all the attention you’d be getting.”
I shake my head. “Come on, Zack. Do you really think anybody would be looking at me?”
His expression saddens for a moment. “Yes, Zoey, I do. I wish you could see how beautiful you are. I’ll convince you one of these days, you’ll see.”
I’m not sure I believe him, but I don’t want to ruin the moment by telling him no.
“You’re going to look even more beautiful when you’re pregnant,” he says. “I can’t wait to see our life growing in your belly, not just our life. Our future.”
My body heats up at his words, my womb shivering inside of me, telling me that I need to get over this anxiety, this nervousness because all I want – all I need – is to give myself to this man.
“I want that,” I whisper passionately. “So badly, Zack. I mean, even…”
“What?” he says, his voice firm as his stark blues blaze with all the potential of what I’m going to say.
“I want to try,” I murmur. “I want to try soon.”
“As in, tonight? That sort of soon?”
I bite my lip as lust blazes through me, prompted by the feral note which has crept into his voice. My nipples rub with agonizing friction against my bra, my skin tingling with all the implications riding on his feral tone.
“Yes,” I whisper, even if I’m not sure, even if I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready.
But surely I have to try?
I’m so sick and tired of spending my life living in a prison of my own making, a prison of self-doubt and insecurity, and doubly so now that my life has started down this new and bright path.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand, squeezing it with supportiveness flaring through his touch, his eyes swelling with the same emotion.
“You don’t have to force yourself,” he says. “Even if waiting is damn hard, even if it makes me want to do feral, wild things to you every second we’re together, I don’t want you to rush into it if you’re not ready. Because once I claim you, my little artist, I am going to fucking claim you. I’m going to own you. I won’t be able to control myself when I get that young curvy body of yours naked. My cock feels like it’s going to explode just thinking about it.”
I can feel his need in his touch, in the way he tightens his grip, his gaze turning animalistic and possessive.
“I want that,” I whimper, as my pussy gives a flutter and my clit feels like it’s about to combust. “But please don’t be disappointed if—”
“No,” he says flatly.
“No?”
“I don’t want to hear any more talk about disappointment or letting me down or any of that shit. It’s never going to happen.”
I nod, trying to take his words to my heart, even as they try to warp and become something else, something mean and cruel. But that’s just my inner taunting voice, the voice that never seems to want me to do well, the voice that tells me I’ll never be good enough.
“Okay, Zack. I’ll try.”
I take a bite of the steak, closing my eyes to savor the taste. I can’t stop myself from making noises of pleasure as I chew.
Opening my eyes, I find Zack watching me, a smirk on his face.
For a crazy second, the thought that he’s mocking me flares into me, but then I realize that there’s something like pride on his face.
“What?” I say.
“Just you,” he growls. “I love watching how much you enjoy your food. I love watching you building up that perfect body so you’re good and strong for our children.”
