I stand in front of him and begin unbuttoning his shirt. Our eyes keep connecting, holding, speaking without words.
I peel the blood-stained fabric off, revealing his muscular chest, the dark quarter-size nipples, his tattoos, the bandage that soon won’t be necessary anymore, and the washboard abs. I trace one of the inked lines across his ribs. He cups my face.
“Is it over?” I ask quietly. “With the men… from the night we met?”
He takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, looking me straight in the eye.
“It’s over with them. For now.” His voice is serious. “But baby, you gotta know there will always be others.”
Reality settles in. This is his world. Violence. Danger. Enemies.
And I’m choosing it. Choosing him.
“Okay,” I whisper, nodding slowly.
He blinks, looking incredulous. Like he thought I’d bolt. Like I still have a choice. Like my heart is still mine to take back. Like he hasn’t fucking marked me inside and out. Ruined me for anyone and anything else. For the rest of my days, I’m afraid.
“You sure?”
I let out a short huff, shaking my head. “Yeah, I’m sure, you big idiot.”
He chuckles before leaning in to kiss me. Soft and sweet, showing me how precious I am to him.
I finish undressing him, unbuckle his belt, push down his pants.
“Come on,” I say when he’s finally gloriously naked, taking his hand, leading us to the bathroom.
We step into the massive shower with its multiple heads, rain shower from above and jets from the sides. All glass, marble, and luxury.
Steam fills the space, warm water cascading all over us.
I grab the soap and start washing his body. My hands running over soft skin, hard muscles. Dips and bulges.
Through it all, Zak is watching me with dark, hungry eyes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps out.
I smile, poking his chest. “So are you.”
He chuckles, low and rumbly.
I wash his muscular torso, his defined arms, his broad back. Taking my time, learning every fucking inch of him. Down his long, powerful legs, all the way to his feet, while his cock keeps jerking in my direction, making me smirk.
When I’m done, I sit on the built-in bench. He’s standing in front of me, water running down his body. Looking magnificent.
He cups my face, water streaming around us, and brushes the pad of his thumb over my abused lips. I kiss it, then take it into my mouth, sucking, never breaking eye contact.
Zak’s gaze darkens. “Fuck, baby.”
I release his thumb. My eyes dropping to his long, thick cock, licking my lips at the sight of the protruding veins, the heavy head, his throbbing shaft… I take him in my hands. And he’s so fucking heavy in my palms.
I stroke him slowly, watching his jaw tighten, his breathing grow fast, unsteady.
Then I lean forward and take him into my mouth. God. He tastes fucking amazing. Feels even better. Velvet-soft skin over iron hardness.
Zak lets out a deep, guttural noise, his hand coming up to fist my hair.
I take him deeper, my tongue swirling around the skin of his cockhead. The texture is different, softer. Fucking delicious. He fills my mouth, stretching my lips, bordering on pain.
