Chapter Seven
Zayne
"Iam so mad at you," Emma hisses as soon as Gran and Bets exit the room. "You told them you're moving in."
"I am moving in."
"I didn't agree to this."
"You did. You just don't remember doing it," I lie, reaching for her. She tries to evade me by dodging to the left, but I manage to get my hands on her anyway.
She huffs as I haul her into my arms, effectively trapping her up against my body.
"You're sexy as hell when you're pissed, lamb."
"Stop flirting with me, Zayne. I'm trying to be annoyed with you."
"Yeah? How's that working out for you?" I ask, undoing the twist holding her hair up on her head. The thick mass goes tumbling down her back. I immediately plunge my hands into it, my dick pulsing. Fucking hell, even her hair is soft.
"It was easier when I was over there," she mutters, making me chuckle.
"I can move us over there if you think it'll help."
She turns that adorable scowl up at me. And that's about all I can take. I've been trying to get my hands on this woman for a fucking month, driving myself crazy thinking about what I'd do once I had her in my arms. Now she's here, and I'm not wasting another damn second.
I swoop, claiming her mouth before she even has a chance to resist me. To my surprise, she doesn't even try. She whimpers, the sound shooting straight to my cock. Her hands get tangled in my hair as she tries to pull me closer.
I lick into her mouth, attacking it like I would her pussy. Fucking hell. She tastes like magic. Her taste hits my system, annihilating any chance I had of surviving this if she kicks my ass to the curb. Did I even stand a chance of surviving it anyway?
No.
I think I knew on day one that she was it for me. It's why I've been fighting so hard to get her on the same page. I'm a simple man with simple needs. And I knew five minutes after meeting her that I needed her in my life.
That sense of certainty has only grown in the last month.
She's vital to me now, ranking above everything else on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. If we require a purpose, she's mine. If life needs meaning, it's her.
"Jesus, lamb," I rasp, breaking from her lips only to come back to them again and again. I can't stop kissing her now that I've started. She certainly isn't telling me no. It's a far cry from the last month. Her surrender is the sweetest victory I've ever tasted.
"You have to stop kissing me," she mumbles, biting my bottom lip. "You're going to get us caught again."
I solve that problem lickety-split. I walk her backward toward the narrow hallway on the opposite side of the living room. Somehow, I manage to avoid the antique coffee table and the pile of yarn spilling from a basket beside the sofa.
Gran and Bets chatter away in the kitchen, happily banging pots and pans as they bicker over who makes the best garlic bread. Confident they'll be occupied for at least the next few minutes, I drag Emma into the first room I come across, slamming the door behind us.
I catch a brief flash of a gray and yellow shower curtain and matching rug before the small bathroom is plunged into complete darkness.
"Now, we won't get caught," I growl, fumbling for the lock on the door just to cover all my bases.
"Zayne," Emma whispers, a nervous tremble in her voice. I hear the excitement in it, too. She wants this. She's just afraid to reach for it.
"Shh, lamb." I press her back against the door, nuzzling her neck. "I've got you."
"I I "
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
I exhale a breath, proud as hell of her. She's shy and sweet and nervous as hell. But she's eager to explore what's between us, aching for me to show her how good it can be. I think she's just afraid to place her heart into my hands when she'd be giving me the power to crush it.
She should know by now, though, that these hands were made to protect every piece of her. They were made for worshipping every part of her. I don't give a fuck how hectic her life is or how wild her aunt and grandma are, or how far she runs; I'm not going anywhere.
"Then lean back and let me show you what you've been itchin' for since I kissed you in the breakroom." I trail kisses down the tantalizing hint of cleavage her shirt reveals. The way she dresses drives me crazy. She doesn't try to hide her curvy body. She isn't ashamed of it. She dresses to accentuate the extra God gave her. And fuck me, every time I see her, I want to hit my knees and say a prayer for women designed like her.
"I thought you said those weren't kisses."
"I lied," I growl, tugging the top of her shirt down to kiss along the tops of her breasts. Jesus. I can't wait to get my mouth on them. I skim one hand down her side, loving the way she shivers and moans at my touch. Loving how fucking soft she is.
"At least you ad-admit it," she gasps.
"Admit what? That I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make you mine?" I press my body close to hers, letting her feel how fucking hard she makes me. "That I'll lie, cheat, and steal my way into your heart if that's what it takes to get in there?" I nip her bottom lip, slipping my hand down her skirt. "That I've spent the last few days jerking myself raw thinking about those kisses?" My lips slide down the side of her throat, seeking out the pulse pounding there. "I admit to all of it, lamb. You drive me fucking crazy."
"You make me crazy Oh my God!" She practically faceplants in my shoulder when I cup her pussy through her panties, not being gentle about it.
"This is mine, baby girl," I growl. And then I press my free hand over her heart. "And this is mine too. I intend on claiming both."
"Zayne," she whispers, her voice strangled.
"You want to come?"
"Y-yes. No. I don't know!"
Ah, fuck.
"You're a virgin, aren't you, lamb?"
"Yes," she whispers.
If this isn't proof she was made for me, nothing is. She's been waiting to give it to me, same as I've been waiting for her.
I flick her panties to the side, on a motherfucking mission now. "You really shouldn't have told me that if you wanted to keep me out of here," I murmur against her skin, running my thumb up her bare slit. "You'll be lucky if you make it through the night without me slippin' into your bed to claim it."
"Please. Oh, please." Her little claws dig into my shoulders, delivering a delicious bite of pain as I touch her for the first time. I want to see her, want to memorize every expression that crosses her face, but I leave the lights off, knowing just how powerful one sense can become when you lose another. I want her to feel every second of this.
I toy with her, touching every part of her hot little cunt. She's dripping for me, sticky sweet, and practically begging for me to take what belongs to me. But I keep her on the edge, running my finger in lazy circles around her hard clit. Listening to the way her breath grows choppy, and she whimpers my name. Feeling the way she trembles in my arms.
Fucking hell. Just touching her has me dancing the razor's edge. My balls are so full they hurt. My cock is so hard he's in danger of snapping in half. She hasn't even touched me, and I'm in danger of coming all over myself.
What is she doing to me? Better question, how the fuck do I convince her to keep doing it for the rest of my life?
I circle her tight little hole, driving us both crazy. Beads of sweat roll down my back. Every muscle in my body is locked tight, trying to keep me from picking her gorgeous ass up over my shoulder, finding the nearest bedroom, and railing her until she's screaming the fucking roof down around us.
"You like that, lamb?" I ask, my voice a gritty rasp of sound as I slowly press one thick finger inside of her. She writhes against the door, babbling quiet pleas. "Do you like knowing even part of me is inside you right now?"
"Yes," she gasps. "Please, Zayne."
"Please, what, lamb?"
"Please."
"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."
"I I "
"Say the words, Emma. Tell me that you want me to make you come all over me."
She's said it about a thousand times in my dreams, but I want to hear it in reality. No, I need to hear that sweet voice pleading with me to make her come on me. I'm going to lose my mind if I don't hear it soon.
"Please," she begs.
"No, Emma. Say the words."
"Please make me come all over you, Zayne," she whispers in desperation. "Please."
I groan, burying my face in her throat as I set to work, giving her exactly what she asked for so sweetly. I set my thumb against her clit, grinding in firm circles as I curl my finger up, looking for her sweet spot.
I know the instant I find it.
A startled cry of ecstasy leaves her lips, and her inner muscles flutter wildly. She shakes in my arms as she falls to pieces, her sticky juices making a fucking mess of my hand.
I work her through it, not letting up until she goes limp in my arms, panting for breath. Once she does, I peel her away from the door, holding her to my chest.
"Did that feel as good as it sounded?"
"Yes," she whispers shyly.
"Good." I press my lips to her temple, breathing her in. "Next time, you'll be doing it on my tongue."
"N-next time?"
"Oh, lamb," I laugh quietly. "You never should have let me through the front door. Because now that I'm here, I have no intentions of leaving until every piece of you belongs to me." I tip her chin up, planting a kiss on her lips. "Starting with your heart."
"Zayne."
"Come on. We should get out of here before Gran and Bets come looking and realize what we've been doing in here."
"Zayne!"
I ignore her, knowing damn well she's trying to talk herself out of falling for me. It's too late for that, though. She never would have let me in if she wasn't already halfway there. We both know she knows this whole bodyguard story is bullshit. But she let me sell it anyway.
She's falling in love with me.
And I fully intend to be here to catch her when she makes the final swan dive off the edge.