Chapter 5 #3
That makes me smile. “True.”
From the second he asked me if I was into role play, nothing was simple between us.
“Just think about it,” he whispers. “No more creaky floors. No more noise complaints. No more hiding in your dorm. I want you to feel like you can breathe without having to worry that someone is talking shit about you.”
“And you think moving in is going to suddenly fix that? No more whispers? No more side-eyes? I move in with you and magically I’m not the girl dating the most eligible bachelor on campus?”
He doesn’t blink or flinch. “No. But at least here you’re loved and not sleeping two feet from people who hate you.”
My eyes soften, and for a moment, I waver. Because he's right—I am loved here. Desperately, completely loved. But is that enough? What if this doesn’t work out? Then I’ll be back where I started.
“You can build me the nicest cage in the world, Zach,” I whisper, “but it’s still a cage if I lose myself inside it.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Anger. Hurt. Maybe both.
“Is that really what you think this is?” His voice is quieter now. “You think I’d build this life just to trap you in it?”
I look down, worried I’ve offended him.
He lifts a hand, his fingers brushing the side of my face like he’s trying to remind me who I am. Who we are. “You wouldn’t disappear, Honey. Not here. Not with me. You’re the only thing at St. Michael’s that feels real to me, and I just want to protect you.”
And that’s the real problem because if I agree to step into his world, I’m not sure I’ll ever want to leave.
Without warning, he kisses me, slow and deep, making me lean back against the deck railing. I respond immediately, my hands sliding into his hair as I pull him closer.
Just like that, every question, every reservation leaves my mind because all I feel is how good we are together, and how right this feels.
His hands slide under my shirt and his fingertips dig into my hips as he lifts me so I’m sitting on the railing. “You should be here,” he murmurs against my jaw. “In this house. In the bed upstairs.”
My breath hitches as I try to pull in air, logic, clarity… anything. “Zach…”
“Just you. Me. A locked fucking door and every excuse in the world to touch you like this whenever I want.” His lips trail up my neck before his tongue flicks behind my ear.
My resolve weakens with every word, every touch. It would be so easy to say yes. To give in. To let him take care of everything, the way he always has. The way Jamie never did.
His lips trace a slow path up my throat as his fingers skim to the button of my jeans, flicking it open. The move makes my thighs part without thinking, and he drags his hand down, following the seam of my jeans.
“You’re not gonna let me win, are you?” he whispers, as his fingers stroke my center through the fabric and he presses down just enough to make my back arch into him. “Even when we both want it.”
My breath hitches. “No. I can’t move in with you,” I say with a little hesitation.
He chuckles, nipping at my throat. “Then I’ll just have to make it impossible for you to stay away.”
He presses his palm down so the heel of his hand grinds against my clit, and my hips jerk involuntarily.
He pulls the zipper of my jeans down, and when the cold air bites against my skin, the realization of what we’re doing sinks in.
“Zach…” I whisper, glancing around the yard, not that I can see much at this time of night. “We’re outside.”
“No one can see,” he says, kissing behind my ear, his lips dragging heat across my skin. “I’ve got a privacy fence, and the backyards are big enough that we’re pretty much alone out here.”
He leans back and flicks a switch on the wall. Warmth soothes my skin as the porch heater turns on. “And now we won’t even get cold,” he says with a grin.
I don’t stop him. Not when he yanks my jeans down. Not when I lift my hips to help. My black panties are already damp… humiliatingly soaked, but it’s not new when I’m around him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, rubbing two fingers over the fabric. “You wore these to tease me, didn’t you?”
“No,” I smirk, dazed and drunk on him. “I wore them because I didn’t do laundry, and these were my last pair.
“Well, I guess that’s the only good thing about you still living in that fucking prison,” he murmurs.
“Hold on tight.” He places my hands firmly on the railing as he sinks to his knees and kisses the inside of my thigh.
He slowly makes his way up until his mouth is brushing the edge of the lace.
He doesn’t rush. He never does. He devours, taking his time to peel my panties down slowly, taking in every inch of skin he reveals.
“Fucking best sight in the world, Honeycomb.” His breath hits me in just the right way, making my fingers dig into the railing.
He lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder and my body clenches, waiting for his lips to touch me. He’s inches away. I can feel his breath, but he’s holding himself there.
“Eyes on me,” he commands, and I nearly come apart from the heat in his eyes alone—dark, starved, and ready to worship me. “That’s better.”
His mouth drops to my center, and with one long, filthy drag of his tongue, I’m already screaming, shamelessly grinding against his face as he latches onto my clit.
“Zach,” I breathe, my voice ragged and desperate.
My fingers claw into the railing, but it’s not enough to ground me. My balance shifts the second he pushes two fingers inside me, filling me in one rough stroke. He flicks his tongue across my clit in time with the steady thrust of his hand. It’s ruthless and unrelenting.
“Fuck—” My head tips back, my thighs tremble against his ears. Every nerve in my body is alive as his tongue circles me again, slower this time, cruelly teasing before he sucks hard enough to make my hips buck.
I’m gone. There’s no shame left in me, only the desperate roll of my body against his mouth, chasing everything he’s giving and begging for more without words.
“Zach—I can't—I'm gonna—”
He growls against me, the vibration shooting straight through me, and when my balance falters, he doesn’t let go. His arm locks around my waist, anchoring me against the railing as his mouth keeps destroying me.
His fingers pound deeper. His tongue works faster.
Relentless, merciless, perfect.
That’s all it takes for me to shatter, and I’m screaming his name, my thighs shaking around his head, and my body unraveling in his grip as he forces me to come harder than I ever have before.
I cry out as my body shakes, pleasure racks through me just as my legs give, and I nearly fall backward over the railing.
“Careful,” he murmurs, steadying me with a firm grip on my hips, his lips dragging across my inner thigh. “You know what? Maybe this isn’t the safest spot to be doing this.”
I laugh shakily, still dazed. “You think?”
Still holding me, he stands, his mouth shiny with arousal. Without warning, he sweeps me up into his arms. I gasp and cling to his shoulders, my knees too weak to hold me even if I wanted them to.
“Zach… What are you—”
“Taking you upstairs,” he says simply, and I hold on tighter, taking in his woodsy cologne. He walks me through the kitchen, toward the stairs. His arms band tighter around me as he starts up the steps. “Because if you lived here…” His mouth brushes my temple. “This would be how every night ends.”
He nudges the bedroom door open with his shoulder and lays me down on the bed. I try to hold back my groan because my body melts into the mattress, and I can feel my resolve slipping. Not that I’d let Zach know that.
For a moment, he just stares at me with his weight braced above mine. At times like this, I feel like he knows what I’m thinking.
He leans in and kisses me until I’m dizzy with the taste of myself on his lips.
When he finally pulls back, his mouth curves into a smile before he trails lower. His lips brush down my throat as he lifts the sweatshirt off my body. Then his lips trail across my chest, over my stomach, until I feel a short, sharp swipe of his tongue against my clit.
“Zach,” I gasp, tugging at his hair, confused. “Wait… you can’t do that again.”
His eyes flick up. “Watch me.”
My mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. It’s impossible with his face between my thighs while he devours me like he’ll never get enough.
My hips jerk, my body strains against his hold as the orgasm builds sharp and fast, too much and not enough all at once.
That’s when the world tilts into nothing but him, and I start to wonder how much longer I can keep pretending this isn’t everything I ever wanted.