Something flares in his eyes, relief, desire, something deeper that neither of us has named yet.He lowers himself until his body covers mine, the familiar weight of him both comforting and arousing.His lips find my own once more, the kiss slower this time but no less intense.
I let my hands wander, relearning the contours of his body, the broad shoulders, the strong back, the narrow waist.When my fingers brush against his scar, I feel him tense slightly, but he doesn’t pull away.
“Does it hurt?”I ask against his lips.
“No.”He presses a trail of kisses along my jaw.“Just sensitive.”
I explore it carefully, feeling the raised tissue, mapping the physical reminder of what we survived.He watches me with hooded eyes, letting me process this in my own way.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell him, meaning it with every fiber of my being.“Every part of you.”
Something shifts in his expression, a vulnerability that takes my breath away.“I love you,” he says, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything we’ve been through.“I should have told you before.In the ambulance, I tried, but…”
“I know,” I assure him, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.“I love you too.So much.”
His kiss is fierce now, possessive in a way that makes heat surge through me.His hands make quick work of my shirt, pushing it up and over my head before returning to explore the newly exposed skin.I arch into his touch, suddenly desperate for more after weeks of restraint.
“Take this off,” I demand, tugging at his Henley.“I want to feel you.”
He complies, sitting back on his heels to pull the shirt over his head.I drink in the sight of him, the tattoos snaking across his chest and arms, the toned muscle, and, yes, the scar that marks where he nearly died.It’s still angry and red against his tanned skin, but it’s healing well.
I reach out, tracing it with gentle fingers.“Does it make me a bad doctor if I think your scar is kind of hot?”
He laughs, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest.“Makes you perfect for me.”He captures my hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss my palm.“Now stop stalling and get those pants off.”
I comply eagerly, shimmying out of my jeans while he does the same.When we come back together, skin against skin, the sensation is almost overwhelming after so long.I gasp as his hand finds me, stroking with confident familiarity that has me arching off the bed.
“Missed this.”His lips trail down my chest.“Missed you.Missed the sounds you make when I touch you just right.”
As if to prove his point, his fingers tighten around me, thumb sliding over the tip in a way that pulls a moan from deep in my throat.He smiles against my skin, pleased with my response.
He reaches over, retrieving a bottle of lube and returning to kneel between my legs.His eyes never leave mine as he slicks his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making my breath catch.
The first press inside is careful, gentle in a way that makes my heart ache even as pleasure spirals through me.He watches my face closely, reading my reactions as he adds a second finger alongside the first.
“Okay?”he asks, his free hand stroking my thigh.
“More than okay,” I assure him, pushing against his hand to take him deeper.“I’m not going to break either, Zach.”
A smile curves his lips, that dangerous half smirk that first caught my attention all those years ago.“No,” he agrees, curling his fingers.“But I might make you beg.”
I gasp as he does it again, the pleasure sharp and intense.“Bastard,” I manage, though there’s no heat in the word.
His laugh is low and knowing.“You love it,” he says, adding a third finger, stretching me with careful attention.“Love when I take my time with you.”
He’s right, and we both know it.But after a month of waiting, of worrying, of wanting, my patience is nonexistent.“I need you,” I tell him, reaching for him.“Now, Zach.Please.”
The plea in my voice must reach him, because he withdraws his fingers and reaches for a condom.I watch through half-lidded eyes as he rolls it on.
Then he’s positioning himself between my legs, the blunt pressure of him against my entrance making me tense with anticipation.He pauses, eyes finding mine.
“I love you,” he says again, the words still new enough to make my heart skip.“Never forget that.”
Before I can respond, he’s pushing forward, the initial stretch making me gasp despite his careful preparation.He stills immediately, concern flashing across his features.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I warn, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
He smiles a real smile, not the smirk, something soft and private that I’ve only seen directed at me.“Wouldn’t dream of it, Doc.”
