CHAPTER 27
MIA
I feel restless, and honestly, it annoys me. I hate feeling like this—like I need something but can’t figure out what it is. I guess that’s the problem with being me: always searching for the next high, the next spark.
Then, I look over and see Zane on the couch, and—well, that’s it.
Suddenly, I have the urge to color him. Like, color him. He’s got those tattoos, all those intricate black lines on his arms, and I just want to fill them with life.
He’s busy fiddling with his phone, so I grab my case of markers, take a deep breath, and plop down next to him.
I’m close enough to feel the heat of his body against mine but not close enough for him to push me away.
“Be still,” I whisper, my voice a little teasing as I slide the blue marker over the skull of a serpent etched into his skin.
Zane gives a low sigh, but he doesn’t say anything. He glances up at me for a second, his blond lashes lowering, his gaze briefly meeting mine before he turns back to his phone. And just like that, I get the green light.
My fingers move easily, tracing the curves of the tattoos, adding bright pops of color to the shadows. Red for the roses curling up his forearm. Green slid across the dragon on the back of his hand. Every time I move my hand, I feel the warmth of his skin underneath, the solid, alive texture. It’s almost like I can feel every part of him— every part .
The thought sends a jolt through me, but I push it away. Focus on the art, Mia. Focus on the art.
“Are you using permanent markers?” Zane’s voice pulls me back to reality, deep and almost amused.
“Maybe,” I reply with a smile that I’m sure he can’t see, but I feel it anyway.
He closes his eyes for a moment like he's bracing himself for the worst. It makes me smile even more. I love how patient he is with me sometimes. He always knows when I’m about to push things, and he just… waits.
I keep going, my hand accidentally smearing a little orange across the sun hiding behind one of the tattoos. I’m so into it that I don’t notice when Zane grabs my wrist, his fingers wrapping around me with just the right amount of pressure.
“You really like it,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, like he’s trying to figure me out.
I meet his eyes, and something stirs in my chest. There’s a heat there, something intense. And all I could think about was the way he looked at me while he was fucking my pussy with his tongue. I want that again. Heat pools low in my belly as the memories flood back, each one hitting me like a spark to dry kindling.
“I like the colors,” I whisper, my voice softer than I intended.
He doesn’t answer right away. He just keeps looking at me, as if weighing my words, considering something. And then—without releasing my wrist—he slides his fingers down to the back of my hand, pressing lightly.
It’s a small touch, but it feels like a question.
My heart stutters, and suddenly, I’m not sure if I’m breathing anymore.
The marker in my grip trembles slightly, leaving a crooked line of purple across the perfect outline of his tattoo.
I hold my breath.
Before I can react, Zane’s hand moves to my waist, his fingers tightening with a firmness that makes me gasp. In an instant, he pulls me closer, and before I know it, I’m sitting on his lap, held tight against him.
"Go on,” he teased.
I keep going, but now it’s not about the tattoos anymore. My hand trembles slightly, the marker nearly slipping out of my grasp as I feel the way he’s responding to my touch. His skin is warm, taut, and it’s like every inch of him is alive .
Zane’s breathing changes. It’s deeper now, slow, almost like he’s trying to control himself.
I can’t focus on the tattoos anymore. I can’t focus on anything but the way his body feels under my hands, the way the heat between us thickens. I look up at him again, and this time, I can’t look away. His gaze is so intense, so direct that my whole body tightens in response.
I take a shaky breath, my marker slipping from my hand.
But I don’t care.
I lean closer to him, our lips almost brushing. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can’t seem to stop myself. His eyes are darker now, filled with a question I know I need to answer.
I give him that look— that look, the one that says it all without me having to say a word. It’s permission, it’s a request, it’s everything I’m too scared to ask for out loud.
Without missing a beat, Zane nods. He doesn’t need anything else.
And before I can even process what’s happening, his lips are on mine.
My body reacts immediately, the rush of heat and sensation flooding me. I can feel him— all of him —against me, and I don’t want to pull away.
His cock presses into me, making everything feel impossibly intense, the pulse of it against me sending shocks of pleasure through my body.
“Watch what you do to me, Mia,” Zane growls, his hands pulling me tighter against him. “If you don’t stop with those fuck me eyes, I’m going to slide those shorts off and fuck you right here.”
“Yes, do that,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper, lost in the moment.
“Only when it feels real to you, my sweet chaos,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I want you to want me.”
I look at him, my heart twisting in a way I can’t describe. “Zane, you are the most real thing I’ve ever felt. I’ve wanted you every day since I met you. You’re what keeps me sane.”
There’s a shift in his expression like he finally understands something he couldn’t put into words. And then—he smiles. A real, soft smile, and for a moment, it feels like everything’s in its place.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, his voice soft but filled with something I can’t even put into words.
“No more waiting,” I murmur, pressing my lips to his neck as I slide his shorts down just enough to feel the heat of his skin on mine.
“I’ve never done it this way,” Zane says against my mouth, his words almost a confession.
“How?” I ask, breathless.
“Like I wanted it so much. Like I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“It was never like that for me, either.”
“So this is our first time?” He asks, his lips curling into a weak smile.
“Yes, my angel,” I reply, my heart swelling with something bigger than I thought I could feel. “This is our first time.”
He shifts, his movements smooth and purposeful, until he's hovering above me, his body leaning into mine.
And in that moment, it hits me. It’s not just about what we’re doing. It’s about everything we’ve been through together.
I love him. I do.
And in a way, I think he’s taught me something, too—not just how to live outside my little bubble of chaos, but how to love —myself, him, us .
I could drown in that feeling. And I don’t think I’d mind.
The moment his cock slides inside me, I swear time slows down. I’m gasping, my whole body catching on that exact second when everything clicks into place. It’s like, oh wow, so this is how the universe intended it to be?
I feel so full.
“You have no idea how much I need you,” he says, his voice rough, his gaze locked onto mine. “It’s bordering on insanity at this point.”
A slow grin tugs at my lips. “So maybe you’ve finally reached my level,” I murmur, my fingers splaying across his chest. Then, with all the seriousness in the world, I add, “Now, I’m gonna need you to move because you’re killing me inside.”
“Fuck,” he grunts, sliding deeper inside me.
And I feel pleasure wash over me in a way I've never felt before.
Now, it makes so much sense why some people base marriages on sex. Because of the way Zane's hips move against me, the way his cock slides deeply inside my pussy feels so good.
I don't want to stop.
"More," I breathe, my hands instinctively finding the chain around his neck. I tug him closer, desperate like I could somehow fuse us—like I could make us one.
Zane increases his pace; I see in his eyes how lost he is to the sensation. He fucks me while looking down at me, his eyes never leaving mine for a second, and it's intense... intense enough to bring me to the edge. Then, like a dam breaking, it all crashes over me at once—raw, overwhelming, a flood of sensation that takes over my entire body. I feel every nerve, every inch of me consumed, each wave of pleasure pulsing harder than the last.
“Mia, I’m about to cum all over your stomach.”
“Inside me, I want you to cum inside me,” I command, and he lets out a desperate grunt doing exactly as I asked.
He lets go, spilling inside me, and the sensation sends a shudder through my entire body. I press Zane closer, as if holding him tight enough could make us one—like I could keep him there, inside me, forever.
“That’s my little angel,” I say happily, complimenting him. “Good boy.”
His eyes darken at my words, and I feel confidence emanating within me.
Maybe that's something we can explore.
“Zane?”
"Yes."
“Can we do it again?”
And his smile tells me everything I need to know.
“So, how’d it go with Laura?” Lara asks, a curious glint in her eye.
I huff a laugh. “Is that my friend asking or a Society of Crow member?”
She lifts her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. Charlie asked me to check—just making sure the stories match.”
They would. Zane and I aren’t stupid. Not that we even lied. He told Hunter and Charlie the truth: Laura and I were held captive together, and that’s why she’s been checking in on me. What he didn’t mention—the part we both agreed to keep quiet—was that I’m Nico’s daughter.
“Laura and I went through a lot in that cage,” I say, and it’s not a lie.
Lara’s expression shifts, her brows pulling together. “Mia… I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
I shake my head, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even know it was hard until I got out of there.”
She watches me, something unreadable in her eyes, before offering a warm smile. “Well, at least now you know you’re protected. As Zane’s wife, the Society automatically protects you.”
I don’t buy it. Not entirely. But I just shake my head, letting it go.
And as if sensing I don’t want to dwell, Lara shifts gears, grabbing my wrist and tugging me toward a tarp, excitement lighting up her face.
The store was a wonderland of colors and fabrics, and I twirled between the racks like a kid at an amusement park. Lara, on the other hand, examined each item with meticulous patience, holding a few and frowning before deciding whether they were worth it. I already had a pile of clothes piled high in my arms, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to take half of them.
"That's pretty." I held a flowery dress up against me, twirling it for Lara to assess.
She looked at him, tilting her head slightly. "It's pretty. But are you actually going to wear it, or do you just think it would look nice on the hanger?"
I laughed and hugged the dress. "That sounds like a direct attack on my soul."
Lara smiled, turning her attention to a tailored ensemble. “I’m just saying. You seem like the type to buy on impulse.”
"Because I am! That's part of the charm."
She shook her head, but with an amused look. "You remind me of my sister when she got excited about the most random things."
My attention returned completely to her. "Do you have a sister?"
There was a slight pause before she replied, "No. Just Carter."
The name hung in the air, and Lara looked away at the hangers. I was tempted to ask more, but I felt like it wasn’t the right time. Instead, I pulled out another item and continued our shopping mission.
After almost two hours—and me changing my mind about at least ten items—we finally gave in and headed to the food court. Lara chose a salad and a natural juice, while I ordered a giant milkshake and a burger.
"How do you eat so much junk and still be like this?" She asked, raising her eyebrow at my request.
"Perfect genetics, honey." I winked, picking up the milkshake and taking an exaggerated sip.
Lara laughed, stirring her own juice. "You're lucky. I can't even think about fast food without feeling like I've gained a pound."
"Life is unfair." I sighed dramatically before biting into my burger.
She laughed again and relaxed a little. It was only after a few bites of food that I decided to bring up the subject.
"You know… Zane asked me not to talk about Carter with you."
Lara looked up, clearly surprised. "He asked for that?"
I nodded, licking some milkshake off the straw. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. If you don’t want to talk about him, that’s fine.”
She was silent for a moment, swirling the straw around in her cup. "It's okay, Mia."
I waited as she seemed to choose her words.
"Carter and I grew apart when he turned to drugs. Before that, I still tried to be around, to help him, but there came a point where it became impossible. I knew I couldn't go back."
The sincerity in her tone took me by surprise. I had expected resistance, perhaps a change of subject, but not this frankness.
"But did you want to?"
She sighed, leaning her elbow on the table. "Of course. He's my brother."
I was quiet for a few seconds before saying, "But you still miss him."
Lara smiled, a sad smile this time. "Every day."
I let that sink in for a moment before asking, "If you could, would you try again?"
She hesitated before answering, "I don't know. I guess it just depends on him, you know? You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."
I bit my lip, playing with the straw in my milkshake. “Maybe he just doesn’t know how to accept help.”
Lara looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Maybe."
We sat in silence, the noise of the food court around us seeming distant. I wanted to say something that would make it better, but there were no magic words to fix a broken relationship.
"I just wanted him to be okay." She admitted softly. "I miss him."
I looked at her and smiled slightly, without the usual excitement, but with something genuine. "Maybe one day he'll come back to you."
Lara smiled back, but there was a shadow of uncertainty in her eyes. Still, I felt like for the first time in a long time, she let someone see this part of her.
And maybe that would be a start.