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She’s pressed so tightly to me now that our movements slow almost completely, but I’m thrusting so deep that every stroke drags me dangerously close to orgasm. And her words aren’t helping me hold back at all.

“And because you didn’t reject me earlier…”

That makes me laugh softly, and she pinches my stomach.

“I wanted to, Selene,” I admit. “But I’m incapable of refusing you.” I expose myself to her. “Your reaction hurt me badly, but what hurt even more was not knowing how we could fix this, how I could make you…” I stop myself, uncertain if reopening this subject is a good idea.

But I don’t want to keep walking on eggshells around her, terrified of saying the wrong thing and ruining everything again.

“Make you forget what you saw.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever forget it,” she answers immediately, and I study her carefully. “But I don’t think about it when I’m with you. When you’re near me,” she explains softly. “And all that video ever made me feel was jealousy, heartbreak,” she adds more firmly. “I can’t stand imagining you with someone else, Zayn.” Her honesty is brutal. Raw. “You’re mine, and I want that to be perfectly clear.”

The certainty and seriousness in her voice make me smile despite trying not to.

Of course, she notices and pinches me again.

“So I’m yours?” I ask mockingly, increasing the pace of my thrusts.

“Completely mine.”

I can’t believe we’re here again, and it must be written all over my face because Selene watches me with obvious amusement.

“When you finally come out of your trance,” she says teasingly, “maybe you’ll actually move so I don’t have to do all the work.”

Laughing, utterly bewitched by her, I rise to my feet with her in my arms and carry her into the kitchen.

Setting her on the kitchen island without pulling out of her, I hook both her legs over my shoulders, then grip her thighs firmly in my palms.

“I haven’t touched you in two weeks, Selene,” I tell her quietly, like a predator warning his prey. “I don’t think provoking me was a good idea.”

“Hmm…” she hums, rolling her hips, sending a violent jolt through my body. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Shaking my head with a grin, I begin moving—hard, fast, brutal in the best possible way.

Every thrust makes her breasts bounce, and she caps them in her hands, teasing her nipples, her moans spilling endlessly from her lips.

Once again, her sounds fill the house.

Sounds I never thought I’d hear again.

She lowers her legs and wraps them tightly around my waist, pulling me even closer, then slides one hand between us to massage her clit.

“I want you to kiss me,” she pants between moans. “Please, Zayn.”

Fuck.

She makes it obvious to me that I’ll never be able to say no to her. And honestly, I’m perfectly okay with that.

“Up,” I command.

She obeys instantly.

With her chest pressed to mine, she rises toward me and parts her lips to kiss me, but I lean back at the last second, denying her.

She gets annoyed and grabs the back of my head, pulling me to her.

“Did you miss me?” I ask when my mouth brushes hers. But I still don’t kiss her. I want to savor these moments a little longer.