His smile turns predatory, all heat and promise.“First thing I did when I came in.”
The admission sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.I lean forward, closing the small distance between us until our lips brush.A question, an invitation.Zach answers immediately, his mouth capturing mine, stealing my breath.
This kiss is different from our previous ones.Deeper, more deliberate.His hand slides to the back of my neck, angling my head to deepen the contact.I part my lips on a gasp, and he takes the invitation, tongue sweeping inside to taste me properly.
My hands clutch at his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his t-shirt.He shifts, moving over me until I’m pressed into the mattress, his weight a delicious pressure that grounds me in the moment.
When we break apart, both breathing harder, his eyes are nearly black with desire.“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, voice rough with restraint.“Any time.Just say the word.”
The consideration in the midst of such obvious want makes my heart swell.“I don’t want to stop,” I assure him, hands sliding under his shirt to feel the warm skin beneath.“Not this time.”
Something flares in his eyes, relief, desire, a fierce possessiveness that should frighten me but doesn’t.He sits back just long enough to pull his shirt overhead, tossing it aside before returning to me.
The sight of him, all lean muscle and intricate tattoos in the dim light, makes my mouth go dry.I trace a pattern inked across his chest, following the lines of a stylized bird in flight that spans from shoulder to sternum.
“Phoenix,” he explains, watching my exploration with heated eyes.“For rebirth.”
I lean up to press my lips to the center of the design, feeling his sharp intake of breath at the contact.His skin is warm against my mouth, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my palm.
“Your turn,” his fingers finding the hem of my t-shirt, seeking permission with his eyes.
I nod, lifting my arms to help as he pulls the shirt overhead.The cool air raises goosebumps across my skin, or maybe it’s the way Zach looks at me like I’m something precious and rare, something to be savored.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, hands skimming reverently down my sides, mapping ribs and hip bones with careful attention.Each touch leaves fire in its wake, making me arch into the contact, seeking more.
He lowers his head, lips finding my collarbone, trailing kisses across my chest.When his mouth closes over my nipple, I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair to hold him there.He lavishes attention on one side, then the other, alternating between gentle suction and the careful edge of teeth that sends sparks shooting down my spine.
My hips rise involuntarily, seeking friction against the hard length of him pressed against my thigh.He groans at the contact, the sound vibrating against my skin.
“Zach,” I breathe, not entirely sure what I’m asking for, just knowing I need more.
He understands anyway, shifting to align our bodies more fully.Even through layers of denim, the pressure is exquisite.A promise of what’s to come.His mouth returns to mine, the kiss deeper now, hungrier.I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him closer, swallowing his groan as our bodies connect.
His hand slides between us, finding the button of my jeans.He pauses, breaking the kiss to look at me.“Still okay?”he asks, voice strained with the effort of restraint.
“More than okay,” I assure him, lifting my hips in encouragement.
The button gives way under his skilled fingers, followed by the zipper.He hooks his thumbs in my waistband, dragging the denim down my legs with agonizing slowness.I kick them aside, suddenly conscious of being nearly naked while he’s still half dressed.
My eyes trace the lines of his body, the defined muscles of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath black boxer briefs that do little to conceal his arousal.
He returns to the bed, hovering over me with his weight braced on his forearms.The careful consideration in the gesture—not crushing me, giving me space—makes something warm bloom in my chest alongside the heat of desire.
“You’re thinking too much,” he says, brushing his nose against mine.“I can practically hear the wheels turning.”
I smile, caught.“Sorry.Occupational hazard.”
He kisses the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then the sensitive spot just below my ear that makes me shiver.“Don’t apologize.Just tell me what you’re thinking.”
I trace patterns on his back, feeling his warm skin.“I’m thinking that I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for longer than I’ve been willing to admit, even to myself.”
His eyes soften at the confession.“How long?”
“Since that night at Murphy’s,” I admit.“Maybe before.Maybe always, in some way.”
He lowers his forehead to rest against mine, something vulnerable flickering across his features.“I’ve wanted you since I was seventeen, X.Never stopped.”
The raw honesty in his voice steals my breath.I pull him down for a kiss that’s more emotion than technique, trying to convey with touch what words can’t adequately express.His body settles more fully against mine, skin to skin, heat to heat.
