“Do I?” But he’s smiling as I wrap my arms around him. “Mmm, maybe I did need your hug.”
His hands settle on my hips and he pulls me in close.
I started this, but he’s taking it over.
“You’re good to me,” he whispers into my hair. “So good to me. So sweet. My little healer.”
I turn my face so my lips are brushing against his jaw.
“That’s it. You could heal me with kisses.”
I cover his mouth with mine.
Kissing Zane feels like it’s a kind of destiny.
Like I was meant to find my way into the circle of his arms and surrender to the confident warmth of his lips, his tongue. His groan, for me alone to hear and feel as it reverberates through the kiss, into my mouth, right into the secret core of my body.
And I know what he means now, about longing for the simple future we imagined when we were younger.
When I was a teenage girl who stayed up late dreaming of finding a man, of quenching the ache in my body by finding someone else with a matching ache, I thought it would be like this.
And it wasn’t. I hate that it wasn’t, that I know how bad it can be. How the wrong kisses can lead to the worst kind of empty acheafter, ten times worse than the pulsing achebefore.
Deep down, I know that Zane would never leave me feeling used. There would be no shame.
But as he says, real life is more complicated than our idealistic dreams.
And kissing him and wanting more than just kisses means staying here, where I have no future beyond these kisses.
Staying would mean depending on him entirely. Trading one homestead for another, one man’s promised kindness for another.
But leaving him… God, leaving Zane would hurt on a whole new level.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
“No.” That…that’s very clear. “Don’t stop, Zane. Please don’t stop.”
He drags in a rough breath that fills his chest, puffs it against my body. Big. Hard. Broad. He burrows his hands in my hair and tightens his grip, making my thoughts scatter. And between my thighs, his hips flex in invitation.
I rub my core against his erection.
Right now, I justwant.
The future can wait.
Chapter 27
Zane
“Does that feel good?” I flex my thighs and guide her hips, dragging her up and down my barely contained cock, long and thick for her. “Feels real good for me. I like you rubbing on me like an eager kitten.”
She murmurs something incomprehensible before kissing me again, her tongue licking deep into my mouth.
Fucking hell.
I snap my hips up, driving into her, giving her my hard cock and my strength. Giving her pleasure and protection at the same time. We don’t need to go any further than this. Making out and rubbing against each other is better than anything else I’ve ever done.
And she’s so fucking sweet, so needy and horny. She makes the most incredible sounds and clutches at me like she’s afraid I might slip away.
