Chapter 21 #2
“No,” she says, her eyes locked on mine. “I want to… I want to be in control.”
I don’t ask why. I already know. This isn’t about sex. Not really. It’s about something bigger. It’s about choice… power… and her taking something back for herself.
So I nod, lie back and let her climb on top of me.
With dark, heated eyes, she straddles my chest and crawls forward until her knees frame my head.
I groan, shameless because her pussy is just inches from my mouth and I’d let her destroy me if it meant she’d feel whole again.
Her hands grip the back of the headboard as she lowers herself onto my mouth, slow and deliberate.
I open for her without hesitation.
The second my tongue drags up her center, her breath catches. She flinches back instinctively, but I don’t let her get far.
I grip her thighs and anchor her to my face, holding her here until she takes what she came for.
She moves tentatively at first, grinding against my mouth, and I give her everything. Every flick, every lick, every pull of my lips around her clit is my way of telling her what I believe.
You are worth this.
Her pace quickens. Her breath frays.
“Zach,” she moans, her thighs tightening around my head. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t.
I hold her tighter and guide her hips back to my mouth when she stutters. Her thighs begin to tremble, her voice falling apart around my name.
She’s close. So fucking close.
When she comes, it hits her hard. Her whole body jerks, her hips trembling as she cries out, raw and wrecked. I don’t stop until she’s pushing at my shoulders, too sensitive to take more.
She slides off me and collapses at my side, her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed.
For a long time, we don’t say a thing.
She’s curled against my chest, her breath soft and uneven. I place a hand on her lower back as I stroke her hair with the other, hoping I can keep the fractured pieces of her from slipping away.
“I’m sorry,” she says in barely a whisper.
“For what?” My voice is quiet and steady as I brace myself for what she says next.
“For showing up like this. For the things I said.”
I tilt her chin until her gaze meets mine. Her eyes are bloodshot, glassy, and far too sad for a girl who’s still learning how to be loved.
“You don’t ever have to apologize for coming to me when you’re upset.” I pause and brush my thumb across her cheek. “But I need to know what happened tonight. What made you feel like this?”
She sighs, her warm breath fanning across my skin.
“It wasn't just tonight,” she whispers. “It’s everything. It’s the internship. It’s college. It’s my father. All of it.” She exhales shakily. “And the messages,” she adds, quieter still. “People are still sending me screenshots with speculation… about you… about you and Jenni.”
Her name slices clean through the air, and my body goes rigid. “What the fuck—”
She stops me with a hand on my chest.
“I know it’s not true,” she says, her voice trembling.
“I know you’d never cheat on me, Zach.” Her voice cracks and it guts me.
“It’s just… the way people say it. It’s like they know something I don’t and they’re waiting for me to break like I did in high school.
They’re treating me the same way they did when I was with Jamie, like I’m just a girl on your arm, and it’s just so much pressure. ”
“Why?” My thumb strokes the inside of her wrist, coaxing her to keep going.
“You love me so much.” Her voice is barely audible. “You’d do anything for me, and sometimes I wonder if I deserve it… if I’m anything without you making me feel that way.”
Fuck.
I sit up, hauling her with me, my hands cupping her face.
“You still don’t get it, do you, Honeycomb? You could give me nothing and you’d still be my everything.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, the sound barely there.
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do,” I say, and I mean every fucking word.
Then I bend down, press my mouth to the honeycomb necklace I bought her back in high school.
It’s a cheap chain, and an even cheaper charm.
She has underwear that cost more, other jewelry that costs ten times more, and yet, she’s never taken it off. Not once.
That necklace has been against her skin for years—pressed to her collarbone, warmed by her body, carried into every room, every bed. It’s been closer to her than I’ve ever been allowed, and she keeps it there, because it’s mine.
Because I gave it to her.
And damn, I’m addicted to that truth. That out of all the glittering, expensive shit her parents have bought her over the years, she chooses the one piece that ties her to me.
I kiss it again, tasting the metal, wishing I could brand myself into her skin the way that necklace already has.
Her eyes shimmer, wide and disbelieving. “Then why does it feel like the only thing good about me is you?”
“Don’t ever say that again, Honeycomb. I’m tired of hearing you talk so badly about yourself.”
Her lips part, but I don’t let her speak yet. I need her to hear this.
“You matter with me. You matter without me. You’re not some accessory to my success, and you don’t need your father’s approval. You’re Honey Sanderson, and that’s the reason I’m in love with you, not because you’re mine, but because you’re you.”
Her eyes brim with tears. “Sometimes I just feel so small.”
“Then let me be your shelter. I’ll be big enough for the both of us, but know that you don’t need me to shine, Honey. You’ve always been your own fucking sun.”
A tear slips down her cheek and I catch it with my thumb before lowering my mouth to hers. This kiss isn’t desperation—it’s worship. It’s the only language I have left to convince her just how perfect she is to me.
“I love you,” she whispers against my lips. “So much it feels like it’s going to destroy me.”
“Then we’ll burn together,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers before rolling her onto her back and covering her body with mine. “I’m not going anywhere,” I rasp, dragging my mouth down her throat. Over the curve of her breast, then the dip of her stomach.
“Zach,” she gasps, fingers tangling in my hair when I nudge her thighs apart and press a kiss to the inside of her knee.
“Let me show you,” I murmur against her skin, dragging my mouth higher. “Let me prove it.”
By the time I settle between her legs, she’s trembling, pleading. I give her what she wants, what she needs, until she’s clutching at me, pulling me up, eyes dark and desperate.
“Now,” she whispers. “Please, now.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders when I slide inside her, and it feels like I’m staking a claim on every inch of her soul.
I move with her, not against her, coaxing rather than taking. With every movement, I swear it to her again and again—you’re not nothing, you’re not small, you’re mine, and I will do everything I can to protect you.
Her eyes flutter open, locking with mine. “Zach…”
“I love you,” I groan, my forehead pressed to hers as she clenches around me. When she falls apart beneath me, I hold her through it, kissing the tears away.
When it’s over, I don’t let go. I keep her wrapped in my arms, her head on my chest, my hand stroking her hair until her breathing evens and sleep finally takes her.
But me? I lie awake, my mind racing. Something happened tonight, something deeper than stress, and my gut tells me Jenni’s at the center of it.
That’s tomorrow’s war.
Tonight, all that matters is this: when Honey needed proof, she came here. She came to me. And I’ll spend every night of my life making sure she never doubts that again.