23. Rising from Ashes
Rising from Ashes
Evelyn
T he grandfather clock in Zeke’s living room chimes eleven, each deep resonating toll mocking my restless pacing.
I’m on my third gin martini of the night, though the alcohol does little to calm my nerves.
The ice cubes clink against the crystal as I take another sip, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the darkness beyond.
The mansion feels too large, too empty without Leo’s laughter filling its halls and Zeke’s imposing form sucking up all the oxygen. Even with Micah stationed outside and other security personnel patrolling the grounds, I’ve never felt more alone. More helpless.
I set my empty glass on the bar cart and resist the urge to pour another. Getting drunk won’t bring Leo back, won’t make Zeke return any faster from New York. Still, my fingers itch to wrap around the cool neck of the gin bottle, to let the burning liquid numb this relentless fear in my gut.
What if something went wrong? What if Nicolo decided to keep Zeke too?
My phone sits silent on the coffee table, mocking me with its lack of updates. The last message from Zeke came hours ago, just a brief “Landing soon,” which did nothing to ease my anxiety.
A car’s headlights sweep across the windows, and my heart leaps into my throat. I rush to peer through the glass, holding my breath until I recognize the sleek black SUV pulling up the circular drive.
He’s home.
Relief floods through me, followed immediately by fresh waves of tension. Whatever happened in New York, whatever Nicolo said about Leo—I’m about to find out.
The front door opens, followed by muffled voices in the foyer. My feet carry me forward before I can think better of it, desperate to see him, to read the truth on his face.
Zeke stands just inside the door, shrugging off his suit jacket as Eli takes his bag. Even in the dim light there’s exhaustion written into every line of his face. The sight stops me in my tracks, my stomach dropping.
“Eve.” His voice is scratchy, like he’s been shouting. Or maybe not speaking at all for hours.
Eli quietly disappears with Zeke’s bag, leaving us alone in the foyer. For a moment, we just stare at each other across the marble floor, everything unsaid hanging heavy between us.
“What happened?” The words scrape past my tight throat. “Did he—is Leo—?”
“Nicolo claims he’s not involved.” Zeke loosens his tie with sharp, angry movements. “Says Alessandro is acting alone.”
“But you don’t believe him.”
“No.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the usually perfectly styled strands. “He’s lying. Alessandro doesn’t have that kind of reach or street smarts. Not without help.”
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold in the scream building in my chest. “Then why? What does he want?”
“He wants me to rejoin the family. Says if I do, all our problems in Columbus will disappear .”
The emphasis he puts on that last word sends chills down my spine. I know enough about the mafia to understand what kind of “disappearing” he means.
“You can’t.” The words burst out before I can stop them. “Zeke, you can’t go back to that life. Not even for—”
“I know.” He closes the distance between us in three long strides. “I won’t. We’ll find another way.”
His hands come up to frame my face, and I’m shaking. The warmth of his palms against my skin anchors me, keeps me from flying apart at the seams.
“Eve.” My name on his lips is somewhere between a prayer and a curse. “I need—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, just pulls me into a crushing kiss that steals what little breath I have left. I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He tastes like coffee and something darker, more desperate.
When we break apart, he doesn’t let me go far. His forehead presses against mine as we both struggle to catch our breath.
“I need to feel you,” he murmurs, his thumbs stroking over my cheekbones. “Need to smell you, taste you. Remind myself what I’m fighting for.”
A small sound escapes me—half sob, half moan. “Zeke.”
He captures my mouth again, softer this time but no less intense. His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss until I’m dizzy with want.
“Let me take you upstairs,” he breathes against my lips. “Let me make you forget—make me forget—just for a little while.”
“Please.”
The word has barely left my mouth before he’s scooping me up into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist, burying my face in his neck as he carries me toward the stairs. His heart thunders against my chest, matching the frantic beat of my own.
He doesn’t set me down until we reach our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us. The room is dark except for the moonlight streaming through the windows, casting everything in silver shadows.
“I may not be able to fix everything that’s wrong,” he says, his hands running down my sides to grip my hips. “But I can at least make you forget about it for a moment. Because that’s what you do for the people you love.”
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. Did he just …
“Say that again.” My voice comes out barely above a whisper.
A faint smile touches his lips as he brushes them against mine. “I love you, Eve. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you just how much.”
Something breaks open in my chest—the walls I’d built crumbling to dust. Tears spring to my eyes as I surge up to kiss him, pouring everything I can’t say into the press of my lips against his.
He responds with equal fervor, walking me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands slide under my shirt, trailing fire across my skin as he pushes the fabric up and over my head.
I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. He helps me strip it off, then reaches around to unhook my bra with practiced ease. The cool air hits my breasts just before his mouth does, drawing a gasp from my throat as he sucks one nipple between his lips.
“Zeke.” I arch into his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair.
He lavishes attention on my breasts, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp nips that send sparks of pleasure shooting down my spine. By the time he pulls back, I’m panting, my skin flushed and oversensitive.
“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m begging for.
He knows though. He always knows exactly what I need.
“Let me make you feel good, love.” His voice is laced with desire as he strips off the rest of our clothes. “Will you let me do that?”
“Yes,” I breathe, falling back onto the bed and pulling him with me. “Anything.”
He kisses his way down my body, taking his time to explore every inch of skin like he’s mapping territory he wants to memorize. When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he looks up at me with dark eyes.
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
A growl rumbles in his chest as he spreads my legs wider. His tongue finds my clit with unerring accuracy, drawing slow circles that have me gasping and clutching at the sheets. He knows exactly how to work me up, bringing me to the edge of release only to back off just before I can tip over.
“Zeke,” I plead, my hips trying to chase his mouth as he pulls away. “Please.”
“Not yet.” He reaches for something in the bedside drawer—the lube and vibrator we used last time. “I want to give you the most intense pleasure. To make you feel things you never felt before.”
Heat floods my cheeks even as desire pools low in my belly. “Yes.”
He kisses the inside of my thigh as he coats his fingers with lube. “Good girl.”
The first press of his slick finger against my back entrance makes me tense, but he doesn’t push in right away. Instead, he returns his mouth to my clit, distracting me with pleasure as he slowly works me open.
By the time he has two fingers inside my ass, I’m a writhing mess. Every thrust sends jolts of pleasure through my core, building the pressure but never quite enough to push me over the edge.
“Please,” I gasp as he pulls his fingers free. “I need—”
“I know what you need,” he growls. “This vibrator in your pussy and my cock in your ass.”
He positions the vibrator at my entrance, sliding it inside my dripping pussy with agonizing slowness. The fullness makes me moan, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation when he turns it on.
“Fuck!” My back arches off the bed as the vibrations send shockwaves through my body.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, adjusting the angle until the tip hits exactly the right spot. “God, you’re beautiful like this.”
I hear the snap of the lube bottle again, then feel the blunt pressure of his cock against my ass. He’s bigger than his fingers, and for a moment I’m not sure I can take him.
“Relax for me, love.” His free hand strokes my hip soothingly. “I’ve got you.”
I force myself to breathe, to focus on the pleasure from the vibrator as he slowly pushes inside. The stretch burns in the best way, a mix of pain and pleasure that has me gasping his name.
When he’s finally seated fully inside me, we both stay still for a moment, adjusting to the intense sensation. The vibrator hums in my pussy while his cock fills my ass completely, leaving me more thoroughly claimed than I ever have before.
“Move,” I beg after what feels like an eternity. “Please, Zeke.”
He starts slow, shallow thrusts that gradually build in intensity as my body adjusts. The dual stimulation is almost too much—the vibrator in my pussy, his cock in my ass, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
“You’re mine,” he groans, picking up the pace. “Every inch of you belongs to me now.”
“Yes!” I cry out as he hits a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes. “Yours, only yours.”
He fucks my ass harder then, pressing the vibrator as deep as it will go, all pretense of gentleness forgotten. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by our harsh breathing and desperate moans.
“Fucking heaven.” He lets out on a low moan. “Magnificent fucking heaven.”