Chapter Thirty-Eight
HIS MOUTH WAS rough against mine, not cruel, not taking—just real. Heat poured off him, his chest solid beneath my palms, his heartbeat hammering like it was trying to sync with mine.
For the first time in my life, the touch wasn’t something forced on me. It wasn’t a command, or a punishment, or a test.
It was mine.
I deepened the kiss, pressing harder, wanting to scorch away the ghost hands that lived in my memory.
He groaned deep, his grip on my waist tightening as if he couldn’t hold back anymore.
I shifted in his lap, the friction making us both gasp.
His hand splayed at my back, steadying me, urging me closer.
My legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him tight against me. His hands slid up my thighs, rough and calloused, but when they reached higher, his breath hitched. His palm brushed the scar burned into my chest.
The mark. The ash brand Gabrial had seared into me, his claim, pressed into flesh, meant to last forever.
I stiffened, shame rushing up before I could swallow it down. My breath caught in my throat.
Zeke pulled back just enough to look. His eyes were a storm, dark, furious. But not at me. Never at me.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to the scar, slow, reverent. The place that had only ever known pain.
“You’re not his,” he whispered against my skin. “Not then. Not now. Not ever.”
The tightness in my chest broke. Tears pricked my eyes, but I dragged him back to me anyway, needing more, needing him. “Then make me remember you,” I breathed. “Erase him.”
Something snapped in him then. His kiss turned wild, desperate, answering the hunger in me with his own. His cut slid off his shoulders, my fingers tugging at his shirt until it was gone. Scars and heat, muscle and strength, all of him pressed to me like he couldn’t get close enough.
Clothes vanished between gasps and touches, until it was just skin on skin. His hands mapped every inch of me, memorizing, claiming, and this time I didn’t freeze—I wanted it. I wanted him.
When he thrust into me, I cried out, not in pain, but release. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath harsh against my lips.
“You stop me if it’s too much,” he growled, his voice broken with need.
I shook my head, nails dragging down his back, holding on like he was the only thing keeping me anchored. “Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t.
He moved with a rawness that shook me, each thrust stripping away the weight of every hand that came before his. Every kiss was a brand, every touch a war cry against the chains that had bound me.
I clung to him, moaning into his mouth, letting the fire consume me, because for once it was mine. My fire. My choice.
When the climax hit, it tore through me like a storm breaking. And when his body tensed, his groan muffled against my throat, I pulled him closer, wanting to feel all of it, wanting to know we’d burned together.
The world went still after. Only the sound of our breathing filled the room.
I collapsed against him, my head on his shoulder, both of us trembling in the aftermath. His arms wrapped around me, strong, steady, holding me like I wasn’t fragile, but like I was his.
For the first time, the quiet didn’t scare me. It soothed.
We shifted eventually, tangled under the sheets, our bodies still pressed close. His hand traced the line of my spine, slow, almost absent. My fingers rested over his chest, right where his heart still pounded hard.
Neither of us spoke for a long time. We didn’t need to. The silence wasn’t empty anymore, it was full.
Finally, he pressed a kiss to my hair and whispered, rough but certain, “You’re safe with me.”
I closed my eyes, letting the words sink into the cracks of my bones. For the first time in forever, I truly believed them.
***
THE ROOM WAS dark and still, the kind of silence that makes you think the world outside has stopped. I was asleep, deep in the warmth of Zeke’s arms, when something pulled me awake.
His mouth.
Hot, rough, hungry against my skin.
My breath caught as I blinked into the shadows. His head was lowered, lips trailing fire across my stomach, his stubble scraping my skin raw in the best way. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me apart like he’d been holding back all night and finally broke.
“Zeke…” I whispered, my voice trembling, half-dreaming, half-alive.
He groaned low in his chest, tongue sliding over me in a way that stole my breath. His hunger was raw, unashamed, like he’d die if he couldn’t taste me. His mouth devoured until I couldn’t stay quiet, until my body bowed off the bed and my hands tangled hard in his hair.
“Don’t wake the kids,” he muttered against me, his voice wrecked. “Just let me have you.”
I bit down on my lip, but the sounds still spilled out, muffled, helpless. Each stroke of his tongue ripped another shiver out of me. When the climax tore through me, sharp and violent, he didn’t stop, he pushed me further, wringing every drop until I was shaking in his grip.
By the time he pulled up, his mouth was wet, his eyes dark and wild.
“You do somethin’ to me,” he rasped, climbing over me, kissing me hard so I could taste myself on his lips. His weight pressed me down, his body trembling like he was holding back a storm. “I need you, Sable. All of you.”
Heat surged through me, and I pulled at him, desperate. “I need you too—so much.”
Something in him snapped.
He flipped me onto my stomach, dragging me up onto my knees. His hand pressed between my shoulder blades, steady, firm, and his mouth brushed my ear.
“You trust me with this?” he asked, low, almost a growl. “Trust me to give you what you need?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my heart pounding. And I meant it.
He pushed into me hard, and my cry tore through the room. For a flicker of a second, fear tried to rise—the ghost of other hands, other nights—but his grip was different. Solid. His chest pressed against my back, his voice fierce at my ear.
“I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you,” he groaned, thrusting harder, faster. “No one’s ever fucked me up like this.”
The words shattered me. This wasn’t just me chasing freedom, he was chasing it too.
I clawed at the sheets, my body on fire, every thrust breaking me open and remaking me. “Don’t stop,” I gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”
He slammed deeper, rough and relentless, his teeth scraping my shoulder. “I couldn’t stop if I tried.”
The release ripped through me, violent, tears stinging my eyes as I muffled my scream into the pillow. My body shook, clenching tight around him, and he broke right after, grinding into me with a ragged curse, his whole body shuddering like he’d been wrecked.
For a long moment, there was nothing but our harsh breathing, the weight of him heavy and grounding over me.
He eased me down slow, shifting until we were tangled in the sheets again, his chest pressed to my back, his arm locked tight around my waist.
His lips brushed the damp skin at my temple, his voice hoarse, softer now. “I don’t want anyone else, Sable. Just you.”
I closed my eyes, tears slipping hot into the pillow, but for once they weren’t from pain.
His arm stayed locked around my waist, solid and unyielding, like even in sleep he wouldn’t let me go. My body still hummed with the aftershocks, every nerve buzzing, my skin alive in a way it had never been.
I thought of the nightmares that always waited for me in the dark, the flames, the hands, the voice that haunted every corner of my sleep.
But curled against Zeke, my back pressed to his chest, his breath warm in my hair, they didn’t come. Not this time.
Instead, I felt the ache in my thighs, the scrape of his stubble still burning on my skin, the weight of his body imprinted into mine. And I wanted to keep it. Hold on to it. Remember that for once, I’d wanted something and I’d taken it.
Sleep crept in again, slow and heavy.
My last thought before it claimed me was simple, startling in its peace.
For the first time, I didn’t feel broken. I felt whole.