He sifted his fingers through her hair, tightening them, noticing the soft shiver that traveled up her spine. She saw him, and she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Zach groaned and angled her head, deepening the kiss. Tasting her and feeling her, sinking into the strength and sweetness of Emma.
His Shadows poured out, wrapping themselves around hers, and for the first time, he could feel hers responding. They were delicate, fragile even, but imbued with a deep core of resilience as they reached out to him. It was utterly exhilarating and deeply humbling at the same time.
He slid one hand from her hair, along her shoulder, and down her back to cup her bottom and then haul her up against his body. Emma moaned as she wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands coming up to circle his neck. She held him like she’d held him in the water—trusting him to hold her up. It was powerful and addictive, that feeling. Knowing that such a strong, competent woman was giving herself into his hands and trusting him.
Having Emma contained inside his arms was delicious, but he wanted more. He wanted his hands to be free to touch her. He wanted to give her as much as she was giving him.
He carried her to the breakfast bar and lowered her gently, still standing between her thighs. Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen and red from their kiss as she leaned back on her palms and watched him, her eyes hazy with desire.
He leaned forward and nipped at the smooth skin over her pulse, then lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Do you want this, Emma?”
Her eyes never left his. “Yes.”
Thank God. He pulled the bodice of her dress down to reveal a strapless navy silk bra, the tops of her breasts pushing up with every hungry breath she took. He didn’t have the patience for fighting with the back clasp, so instead, he pulled down the cups, letting the bra hold her breasts up to his mouth as he wrapped his hands around her ribs and, finally, tasted her. Her skin was hot and silky, and her soft moans drove him on as he ran his tongue over her breasts, swirling and tasting, teasing her with gentle nips as she squirmed until he finally settled on the puckered bud of her nipple.
Emma’s head dropped back on a rough sigh as he tugged her nipple between his teeth and then sucked it harder into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Her legs tightened around his hips and she rocked against him, searching for the pressure she needed. He released her to gently blow across the pebbled flesh and she arched back, offering him the other breast.
Finally, he could do what he’d been wanting to for hours. Days even. He ran his hands up her legs along the velvet flesh of the inside of her thighs, dragging her dress up and lifting it out of his way to finally reach the scrap of silk that was all that separated his skin from hers. He found her clit through the soaked fabric and rubbed his thumb in small circles, matching the movement of his tongue over her nipple.
Emma groaned restlessly, and he pulled back to watch as a slow flush spread up her chest. Her breath came shorter and faster as she shifted, pressing herself into his touch, chasing the feeling that was just out of her reach.
Zach flicked his wrist, sending out a cascade of Shadows to glide over her body in sinuous curls. He sent fingers of Shadow combing through her loose hair, tugging lightly as they passed, ribbons snaking up onto her nipples to gently squeeze and pinch in rhythm with his circling thumb, and heavier bands down to wrap around her upper thighs. She shifted, whimpering, and he sent out a feathering Shadow to run soft touches over the pale skin where her thighs met her center.
She wouldn’t be able to see his Shadows, but he was certain she would—
Her eyes flew open as she gasped. “What…? I can—”
“Shadows,” he admitted, voice rough and low. “Lift.”
Emma lifted her hips, half-dazed as he dragged her panties down and off. Then he helped her move further back and fully onto the counter.
His Shadows covered her, pinching her tight nipples, lifting and shaping her breasts, pulling lightly at her hair, and holding her wide open in front of him. It was sensory overload—not just for her, but for him. Every shaking breath she took. The way her chest flushed and her teeth sank into her bottom lip. The way her hazy Shadows reached out, tentatively winding their way around his.
Her eyes fell shut and she shivered. And then he parted her with his thumbs and lowered his mouth.
“Oh, God.” Emma bent her knees, resting her feet on the counter as she lay back. “Zach.”
He used his fingers and his tongue together, stroking and tasting and sucking while his Shadows continued to tug and tease until he felt as if he was almost part of her. He was drowning in her. In every tremble, every sigh, and the inexorable ratcheting up of her pleasure.
He slipped a finger inside her, and then another, pumping slowly as he learned her body. She was so close, her body coiling around him as her tension rose. Emma shuddered and her Shadows reached for his more frantically, fluttering against his, and he couldn’t help his possessive growl. God, he needed her.
His Shadows tugged her nipples in time with her shuddering hips. He thrust into her, curling his fingers to find the place that made her gasp, and then he sucked her clit between his lips and she came apart.
Emma arched back, calling out his name as her walls clamped down on his fingers. Zach nuzzled into her, breathing in the sweet musk of her release, maintaining the assault on all her senses until she was whimpering and begging, and she came again with a wailing moan.
He pulled slowly out of her body and wrapped his arms around her. Then he lifted her, still flushed and glowing, and carried her to the living room. He sat, cradling her in his lap with her head tucked under his chin, his Shadows petting her and stroking her as her breathing slowly settled.
He expected Emma to drift off to sleep, and he would have been eternally grateful just to hold her like that. Instead, she unwound herself from his lap and then slowly stripped off her dress and bra. She stood in front of him, utterly naked, while he kicked off his boots and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
Emma padded into the kitchen to turn off the oven, then came back and held out her hand with a smile. He gripped her fingers and let her pull him up, then followed her down a short corridor to a peaceful bedroom decorated in creams and blues. A photograph of her mother rested on an elegant dresser and an ancient toy tiger sat on a comfortable armchair.
The sight made him pause. This was Emma’s most private space. The place she was entirely herself.
When last had he slept in a women’s bedroom? He’d dated casually. He had one-night stands. But he never had relationships. He was too busy. Too focused on the many ways he was working his way up through the Order. And too wary of that kind of vulnerability.
What was he doing? All his fears came rushing back. That picture was all Emma had left of her mother. Her mother was gone, just as his was. And his mother’s death had nearly broken his father.
