She exhaled slowly as she nodded.
“How badly do you want my mouth on you, Zaira?”
I watched as she bunched her dress in a fist. “So bad,” she whispered.
“And how badly do you want me buried inside you? How badly do you want my cock?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Gallan…” She stepped closer to me, and I snaked my arms around her waist.
“You want me, don’t you, baby?” I questioned against her lips.
She nodded again as she looked unblinkingly at me.
“Good, because I want you too – so fucking badly that I can’t think of anything but your body on mine, under mine,” I said.
She ran the back of her fingers over my scruff. “Randall did say we have a few more minutes before we’re needed on stage,” she whispered.
I chuckled. “With the way you look right now, Zaira, a few minutes with you won’t be enough.” I gently ran the tip of my nose over her jaw. “With you, sweetheart, minutes don’t mean shit. With you, it’s always forever – time with no boundaries or limits or exceptions.”
“You can’t get me all hot and bothered like a volcano about to erupt, and then do absolutely nothing about it,” she said.
I faced her again. “Oh, babe, Iwilldo something about it, but just not right now,” I told her. “I want you in my bed tonight, and once I know I can take you without interruptions, it’ll be game on.”
She grabbed the lapels of my blazer and brought her enticing body impossibly close to mine. “Gallan fucking Underwood, you better live up to your promises, or else–”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Do I get brownie points if I say that I do?”
I slowly, just barely ran my lips over hers. “You get everything I have and everything I am, but not just for answering my question, but for who you are and what you mean to me.”
She cupped the back of my neck and touched her forehead to mine. “Corny bastard,” she said. “You know just what to say to make me putty in your hands. This is so unfair.”
I pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. “It helps that I have someone like you as inspiration and motivation. I don’t even think; I just say things out loud and hope that you’ll like them.”
She moved back a little and raised a brow at me. “Are you being sarcastic right now? Because I can’t tell if you are.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, am I?”
She rolled her eyes. “Smooth, Gall.Smooth.”
I winked at her. “Told you you’re a great inspiration and motivation.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Baboon.”
I grinned. “Hell yeah, I am. But only for you, and youonly.”
A knock sounded on the door, followed by, “Hey, guys?”
Zaira and I pulled away from each other and looked at the crew member who was standing in the doorway. She – Mona, according to her nametag – smiled at us, and then pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “Randall wants you guys on stage in less than 2.”
Zaira tensed at that, whereas I nodded and grinned at Mona. “We’ll be there in just a second,” I told her.
“Sounds good.” She turned and headed towards the stage.
I held Zaira’s hands in mine and smiled down at her. “You ready to ace this shit, babe?”
She puffed out air through her mouth and looked at me. “Heck yeah, I am. Let’s go and rock the fuck out of this interview.”
And rock, we did. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun during a talk show appearance as I did with Zaira by my side. She was a dream – seamless and perfect. She spread joy and inspired people. She earned respect and won hearts. And later, when I took her to my penthouse and claimed her the way she deserved to be claimed, she stole a fragment of my soul and made me whole for the first time in my life. By unpiecing who I am, she completed me; made me see myself again.
And by giving everything that she is – to me – she satiated me in ways far unimaginably beautiful; too ineffably fulfilling.
