It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for his hard length to press to my hip, and he growls my name. “Zephyr. Fuck. I want you. All of you. But not if I’m to be a balm to soothe yer bad memories.”
Framing his cheeks, I lean in and kiss him. At first, it’s gentle. Almost hesitant. His words tumble around in my head. Is that what I’m doing? I find my answer when I trace the seam of his lips with a slow sweep of my tongue and he groans.
I pull back just enough for my words to whisper over his skin. “Getting in bed together? Your arms around me?Thatsoothed me. Made me feel safe enough to tell you how I ended up here. But this?” Another kiss, bolder this time, and I bite down gently on his bottom lip before I speak again. “This is me doing whatIwant for once. Not what’s smart. Not what’s going to make it easy for me to run again. This is me showing you I want to stay. With you. That I’ll fight for it. For us. For myself.”
Ronan rolls me onto my back, pinning me with his leg while he slides his hand into my hair and tightens his grip. “Are you sure, Zephyr? If you’re not, we can sleep. Nothin’ has to happen.”
“I’m sure. For the first time in years, I want something real.”
Ronan pulls back the blankets and sits up, his gaze roving from my face all the way to my toes. “You’re so damn sexy, I should have you pinch me so I know I’m not dreamin’.”
“You’re a good liar, mate.”
His face hardens, and his voice takes on a rough edge. “Idon’tlie.”
The look I shoot him must not land the way I hope, because he rolls out of bed and thrusts his hand toward me. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“No questions. You need to trust me.”
He has me there. With how many times this subject has come up in the past twenty-four hours, I can’t do anythingbutput my hand in his and let him lead me over to the bedroom door.
It shuts with enough force I fight my urge to jump.
A mirror hidden behind it shows me in Ronan’s Waterford FC t-shirt with him standing right behind me.
“If you can’t see how fuckin’ gorgeous you are, I’ll show you.”
Oh, God. He’s not going to…
Grabbing the hem of the t-shirt, he yanks it over my head before I can protest.
Shit.
Two patches of rough, reddish skin mar my stomach on either side of my navel. I try to cover them with my hands, but he captures my wrists and holds on tight.
“Not with me, luv. Your scars don’t diminish you one bit. They’re evidence you survived. That you’re strong. Brave. That you didn’t break.”
Dropping to one knee, he presses his lips to each of the old burns, then moves to the matching ones on my back.
“I shouldn’t be surprised at this,” he says after kissing the phoenix inked on my right hip. “It suits you.”
My cheeks flame, the color spreading down to my neck and my breasts. Ronan gently turns me partway around and trails kisses up my spine. The position lets me see his face—half of it anyway—and his expression never falters. Nothing but pure admiration and arousal.
Shuddering when his hand cups my breast, I let my eyes flutter closed, enjoying the warmth building in my core until it reaches my heart.
I don’t deserve this man, but until he figures that out, I’ll memorize the feel of him. Every look. Every touch. Every sensation.
He’s on his feet again, tongue and teeth playing along my ear lobe, flicking each of the four hoops as both hands lavish attention on my hard nipples.
“Ronan,” I whisper, “please.”
“Please? Please what?”
“Bed.”
He spins me so I’m facing him and nudges my chin up until I meet his gaze. “Do you believe me now? About how beautiful you are?”
