Chapter Forty-Two
Chloe
Soft kisses trailed over my shoulder, pulling me from sleep. A tired moan slipped from my lips as warmth shifted above me, his body moving lower, his breath teasing my bare skin. I hadn’t bothered to dress again last night, leaving me completely at his mercy now.
Despite the numbness from lack of rest, my body was already anticipating his touch, eager for the marvelous things his tongue would always do to me.
His lips opened the area for his tongue to find my clit. Slow and deliberate, he dragged it over the sensitive nub, his touch devastatingly soft yet firm.
A shudder rolled through me as he sucked gently before flicking his tongue again, circling and teasing. His tongue was so soft, so wet, the sensation alone was enough to ignite sparks that rippled through my body, tiny frissons of instant pleasure.
He knew all my sensitive spots and the right pressure to apply, how to push me to the edge and hold me there. He knew my body better than I knew it myself.
No one had ever cared so much about my pleasure or drawn every sensation to its full potential like Zane did. He was rough but also gentle. He could be mean but also attentive.
Beneath him, I always felt like a worshiped queen.
In those stolen moments, it was when the lines blurred and all the wrong between us dissolved to nothing. The hatred I had left for him gradually dissipated away, and the raw guilt in my stomach was burned by the fierce fire coursing through my body.
Alone, inside four walls, it seemed nothing else could ever reach us.
He gripped my thighs, pulling me closer, his tongue expertly teasing my clit before sucking it deeply into his mouth. I was feeling so much, piling up in my chest, and it didn’t take long to be almost there.
My hands clenched the sheets, moans spilling louder with each skilled flick of his tongue, each relentless movement that pushed me closer to the edge. He circled again, giving more tongue, and everything exploded. My body convulsed as he licked everything in his mouth.
He climbed back on top of me and kissed me deeply, his lips still wet.
I knew he was far from being done but I felt so relaxed, so enveloped in his warmth, I was already drifting, falling asleep again.
I didn’t know how much time had passed between now and then, but the sun was barely rising when I stirred, catching a glimpse of Zane getting ready for the day.
My eyes, still heavy with sleep, fought to stay open, refusing to miss a single moment of his routine. The faint scent of his soap and cologne filled the room, stirring something inside me. He always smelled incredible, but there was something about waking to this that felt different.
The early morning light traced the lines of his body, casting a warm glow over his olive skin and I watched the way his broad back and shoulders flexed with each movement as he pulled on a crisp white shirt. He was meticulous, fastening each button with precision, his jaw set in concentration.
I felt captivated, drawn to every small detail of his morning ritual.
He glanced back at me as he adjusted his watch, a soft smile already playing on his lips.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, his voice low with the rough edges of sleep and I wondered if this was all a dream, it felt like a dream.
He disappeared into the bathroom, and I rolled onto my side, pulling his pillow close, inhaling the scent of him that still lingered. I didn’t want to lie in another bed ever again.
It was becoming harder to imagine being anywhere but here.
“Ti ho già detto di organizzare le squadre.” Zane’s voice drifted out from the bathroom.
It was hard to catch, but it was something about organizing the teams, and he sounded harsh, irritated, reminding me that was exactly how he’d sounded when we’d first met. He wasn’t like that with me anymore.
“My uncle already sent the paperwork. The shipment will arrive in two days, at two.”
Now that I was fully recognizing the words again, I pulled back, feeling like I’d just heard something I wasn’t supposed to.
Bruce’s warnings flashed in my mind, stinging like acid spreading under my skin.
I heard Zane coming back from the bathroom, and rolled onto my back, not wanting to miss him leaving. He opened the door, and I expected him to head out. But instead, he slid his phone into his pocket, leaned out into the hall, and returned with a silver cart with breakfast.
Grapes, croissants, cheese, ham, eggs—he placed everything between us before taking a seat in front of me.
“How are you feeling? I mean, after everything,” he asked, his voice restrained as I popped a grape into my mouth.
I knew he was talking about the break-in. We hadn’t really talked about it yet.
I took my time chewing and swallowing, trying to buy myself time to think about how I was going to approach this conversation, knowing I knew things he didn’t.
“I’m okay, I guess,”
Zane’s eyes studied me carefully.
“Did you recognize anything about the intruder the other night?” he asked.
“Why would I recognize them?” I shot back, maybe a little too defensive. “Do you know who it was?”
“No,” he admitted, “but all this shit started the second our paths crossed, Chloe. That can’t just be ignored. There’s a connection, and I’m going to find it.”
“Here we go again,” I muttered, leaning back against the headboard.
“You’re the one who saw it. Even the smallest detail could help figure out who that asshole was. Just think. Could it have been someone from Bruce’s club? A stalker?”
I paused, thinking, wishing that was the answer, because it would make this so much easier.
“There were plenty of creeps at the club, but none that ever gave me that kind of trouble. Not the kind of trouble that could end with someone sneaking into a crime lord’s house anyway.”
“What about an ex? Someone who couldn’t let you go?”
He tensed. He seemed to like that option even less than the first.
“I… I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I’ve never really had a serious relationship,” I admitted, and his eyes flickered with something.
“What about Bruce? Did he… hurt you?”
This question wasn’t about the break-in anymore.
My stomach tightened. “He yelled a lot. Forced me into a lot of things. But no... not what you’re asking. Not him. Not entirely, anyway.”
Zane’s jaw tensed so tight I could hear his teeth grinding.
“Is the interrogation over?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.
“It wasn’t supposed to be an interrogation.”
“Well, there’s nothing casual about your questions either,” I snapped back, folding my arms over my chest.
He sighed, and I felt a pang of guilt. I was being too defensive again. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I just… I don’t like talking about my past. It brings back memories I’d rather leave buried.”
Zane didn’t respond right away, but his expression softened slightly.
I knew he was thinking about his own past, his parents, the pain that still lingered somewhere in there. It hurt him too, in a way I understood all too well.
After a moment, he broke the silence. “Then tell me something you do like from your past,” he said gently. “A place you’ve been, a food you loved, anything. Would that be more casual?”
I shook my head, letting out a dry laugh.
“I didn’t have your life, Zane. No fancy house, no staff waiting on me hand and foot.
I never had the money for some big adventure or even the freedom to just take myself anywhere.
” My smile was faint, more bittersweet than happy.
“I’ve never really been anywhere. Just… New York, with Bruce, wherever he needed me. ”
And the best food I’d ever had was here, in his house, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud.
He placed a grape between my teeth, and before I could bite down, he leaned in, taking half of it directly from my mouth. Then he trailed soft, sticky kisses down my neck, making me gasp.
“I can take you anywhere you want,” he murmured, “and I’ll fuck you in every city we go. How about that?”
I smiled, liking the idea more than I cared to admit.
But I knew better than to get my hopes up. I was just his whore, and whores didn’t get romantic trips. They got fleeting moments like this, but nothing more.
The tease stopped and he lifted himself up, preparing to leave for real this time but before I could say anything, he was already leaning over, holding my chin, and kissing me goodbye on the forehead.
It was like everything was suspended, and he’d stopped time itself, because the next thing I knew, he was already walking out the door and what he left behind exploding in my stomach wasn’t butterflies, they were freaking bombs.
He made the kindest gestures when I least expected them, and it made it harder to pretend it wasn’t affecting me.
I didn’t think he was in love with me or anything like that, but he was definitely softening. Something in our dynamic had been shifting for a while now.
He’d gone from not wanting me in his bed to asking me to stay. From only wanting sex to pulling me close and kissing me every chance he got. He wasn’t the same man so cold and so out of reach that I’d met.
Maybe Bruce was right. Maybe I could make this man feel something.
When I got back to my room, I went straight to the bathroom.
Last night—and this morning—had left me feeling lighter, but also sweaty and sticky in places I didn’t know it was possible.
Almost one month later, and I still couldn’t get used to how massive this bathroom was.
The shine of the white marble floor and walls glimmered every time the light hit them.
Behind the bathtub, was a large walk-in shower that stretched across the entire back wall.
No curtains or doors, just a glass wall to separate it.
At first, it made me feel exposed and vulnerable, since anyone could walk in and see everything. In a house full of dangerous, predatory men, that thought unsettled me. But now, I’d kind of fallen in love with it. It had become one of my favorite places in the suite.