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My fear melts away with the ministrations of his fingers and each lick of his tongue. He wipes out all my barriers and all my trepidation, priming me for more than just a roll in tangled sheets. The ghosts and all those voices inside my head, warningme away from him, fade to black. My mind is quiet, my senses inundated by the sight and smell and feel of him.
The only sounds in the room are the occasional rustle of clothes and his mouth on my skin. The gentle hum of the refrigerator and constant purr of the furnace heating the air.
My hand brushes the front of his crotch. He’s rock hard, his girth pulsing against my palm through his pants. I reach for the waistband of his sweats but pause. He looks at me, tilting his head. My skin burns from the scruff on his chin. The blue rims of his eyes are swallowed by the black in the middle. There’s desire lying there. Lust. But there’s something else too.
I dive inside his gaze, studying it. Deciphering the depths. Searching for the meaning behind the way he’s currently looking at me. It’s the same … but different. Strange and new. Everything is silent. He’s staring at me like this is more than a tryst or a conquest.
He’s gazing at me likeI’mmore.
Time stands still. It’s just us, in the middle of his kitchen. I’m half dressed. But it isn’t just my skin that’s exposed. I’m split wide open. By him. Because I recognize the look in his eyes and the expression on his face. I know that look because it’s the same one I’m giving him right now.
Love.
I see it. I feel it. Iwantit. With him.
He kisses me again, like it really means something this time around. It feels resolute rather than searching. Everything that’s been standing in between us vanishes. I’m no longer asking him to kill the pain of life. And he’s not wanting me to provide a temporary escape. All of a sudden, it’s like we both … just know.
He takes my hand and leads me down the hallway and into the darkened bedroom. We don’t turn on any lights, but the moonlight is filtering through the windows.
He undresses me until I stand before him, completely bare. There’s a reverence between us that wasn’t there before. An appreciation that goes way beyond skin deep.
I remove his shirt. My fingers trail down his chest, through the dusting of hair there, and along his washboard abs. His muscles clench in anticipation as I flex my fingertips in his waistband and pause again, suddenly shy. He’s breathing harder as he watches me through the dim lighting. I can feel the burn of his gaze on my naked skin.
“Don’t be shy,” he murmurs. His voice is a rumble in the darkness. “Take it if you want it.”
Somehow, I think he’s talking about more than just his body. My hesitation ends.
I tug his sweats down until his length springs forward, standing tall and proud and heavy in between us. The material pulls around his ankles, and he steps out of it, one leg at a time. He hisses when one of my hands glides along the silky skin of his cock, and it jerks involuntarily in my grip. My other hand drops to his balls. I keep my touch light, and he groans as I caress him.
His head falls back with each stroke. He’s as hard as steel, but the surface is so silky. He pushes me away, and I bounce when my back lands on the mattress. I laugh. He grabs a condom from the bedside table and sheathes himself. His body warms my skin as he crawls on top of me and nestles between my legs. He moans again when his fingers test my readiness and he finds me dripping wet.
He lines us up. I can feel the head of his cock at my entrance. His tongue enters my mouth, muffling my moan, while he plungesinto my wet heat. I tense from a mixture of pleasure and pain. He gives me a moment to adjust before he moves again. And then he’s thrusting in and out of me. My walls squeeze him tighter when I clench my inner muscles with each pass. He whispers in my ear all the dirty things he wants to do to me while adding a detailed description of the way I feel around him. He uses words liketightandwetandheat.
Zane shifts me to my side. Then, my face is in the mattress as he pounds into me from behind, spearing me deeper than before. His hips smack my skin. His fingers circle my clit the first time I explode. His body takes over the next one, his pelvis grinding against me, while the delicious weight of him anchors me down when he climbs on top again.
His hands are on either side of my face as he pumps his hips in and out, circling when he’s as deep as he can go. My legs tangle with his and hold on when he hits that magic spot deep inside. As if he can feel my pleasure—like it’s his ultimate goal to help me reach nirvana again—he keeps his hips at that angle, hitting the spot repeatedly until I detonate a second time.
He lets go once I come down from the high, and he starts thrusting into me like something inside of him has broken loose. Each stroke is harder than the last. I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, and I can’t wait for that reminder of him every time I move. That delicious ache. He pumps into me twice more, and the third time, he stills. Every muscle in his body tenses as he spills into the condom.
His chest is heaving, and his weight is heavy when he collapses. My nails scratch patterns across the skin of his back as he recovers. I bury my nose in the side of his hair and inhale, breathing him in. The entire room smells like a combination of him and me. And I don’t remember ever feeling this content before.
“You know what this means?” he says, his voice muffled against my neck.
“What?” I ask.
“There’s no going back now. You’re mine, Lo.”
“Promise?” I ask.
I hear the answer on his lips when he kisses me. I can taste the promise lying there.
And just like that … we begin again.
CHAPTER THIRTY
ZANE
Second chances aren’t a given.
