Chapter 30 #2
I grab his face and kiss it off him. He kisses me back, tongue sliding against mine like he needs this just as badly. His hands are still under my shirt, still playing with my nipples, and every time he flicks or tugs, it brings me a little closer.
I kiss him until I’m breathless, and then I pull away. I lean back slightly, palms bracing against his knees, arching my back as I roll my hips harder over him. The angle shifts—deeper, hotter, perfect.
“Fuck, Luna. That’s it.”
My eyes flutter closed as the pressure builds.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he commands. “I want to see you when you come.”
“Zayden, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me, Tempestina.”
My whole body goes tight as pleasure crashes through me and steals my breath away. He pulls me against his chest, and I bury my face in his shoulder as my hips tremble through the last waves.
“Fuck, Luna.” He lets out a guttural sound and grabs my hips, holding me down against him as his body shudders beneath mine.
Oh.
My eyes widen, and I lift my head slowly, blinking at him.
“Did you just…”
“Yep.”
I smile and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Well, I feel amazing,” I say, still a little breathless. “But now I’m starving.” I swing my leg off him, my thighs still trembling, and hop to my feet. I wander toward the counter where the bowl of quinoa is waiting.
“Damn,” I say, taking a bite. “It tastes so good.”
I look over at Zayden, who hasn’t moved an inch, head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, like he’s still trying to recover.
Ruined.
I ruined him like he said I would, and I haven’t even given him the real thing yet.
He finally pulls himself up. “I’m gonna go shower, you enjoy your breakfast.”
I watch him walk away—barefoot, muscles shifting under his skin, the waistband of his ruined sweats sitting low on his hips.
Holy hell.
When did his ass get that good?
My eyes follow his ass down the hall before I shake my head. “God, I’m so screwed.”
I finish my quinoa bowl, leaning back on the couch and smiling like an idiot. I feel lighter than I have in years.
The sound of water running in the bathroom down the hall makes it really hard not to think about him being wet and naked in there. Or the way his mouth felt on me.
I don’t realize the water has stopped until the bathroom door opens and Zayden steps out. He appears in front of me wearing nothing but a new pair of gray sweatpants.
My eyes trace over his chest, past the sharp lines of his abs, to the V that disappears inside the waistband of his sweatpants.
Hmm.
There’s definitely an imprint there.
I swallow hard, heart thudding like I just ran a marathon.
“Your bath is ready, so let me know when you’re done ogling me,” he teases.
“I was just admiring the view.” I chuckle.
He closes the distance between us and lifts me off the couch.
“Zayden, what are you doing?” I laugh.
“What?” he murmurs, adjusting me against his chest. “Weekend of pampering. You don’t get to walk.”
“You keep spoiling me like this,” I tease, nuzzling into his neck, “and I might not want to leave.”
He doesn’t respond as he carries me to the bathroom and sets me down gently in front of the tub. The room smells like peppermint and lavender.
“Enjoy your bath. I’ll be outside the door if you need me.” He turns around to leave.
“Don’t go.”
He stops at the door frame before turning around.
“Can you stay?”
He nods.
We stare at each other for a few seconds.
“Do you want me to turn around?”
“No,” I murmur.
I hold his gaze as I pull the shirt over my head, but he doesn’t look at my body at first. Then I hook my thumbs into the waist of my lace panties and slide them down, leaving me bare in front of him. I’ve never let anyone see me like this.
I don’t hate my body. I guess I just never cared enough to pay attention except for the fact that I was always taller than the boys at school and they didn’t like that. But Zayden is looking at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
His eyes slowly trail down my body, drinking in every inch of me, and I can feel the heat of it like a physical touch.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
The way he says it like it’s ruining him does something to me, too. I step into the tub, then sink down until the water wraps around me. I close my eyes as a soft, contented sigh escapes my lips.
He lowers himself against the door, but I can still feel him watching me.
“I’m thirsty,” I murmur.
“I’ll grab you some water.” Zayden pushes off to his feet before I even have a chance to ask. The door closes behind him, leaving me alone in the water.
His footsteps fade down the hall, and I close my eyes as I let myself slide under the water. It reaches my shoulders first, then my throat. Lower, over my chin, my mouth, and my nose.
Then everything goes quiet, familiar in a way I remember too well.
I open my eyes, watching the water above me.
I like it down here. It’s not the same quiet as when my mom used to leave for days, or as loud as when she came back with a new boyfriend.
She usually spent more time fighting with them than worrying about me.
Why am I even thinking about all that now? Maybe it’s the lavender. Or maybe it’s because Zayden’s been making me feel things I’m not sure I’m allowed to want.
My lungs start to burn from holding my breath for too long. Long enough to wonder—what if I just stayed?
The door opens, but I barely register the sound, like it’s happening far away—until strong hands plunge into the water and pull me up.
“Luna?” He’s on his knees beside the tub, water dripping from his forearms. His chest is rising and falling too fast. “What the hell were you doing?”
My breath hitches as I blink the water out of my lashes. “I—I was just…thinking.”
He grabs a towel and wraps it around me before lifting me out of the tub and pulling me down onto the floor with him. His whole body is shaking as he tightens his hold on me.
“Zayden, I’m okay,” I whisper, tilting his head down so his eyes meet mine.
“You don’t get to leave me too.” His voice cracks against my temple.
Leave me too?
“That’s not what I was doing,” I say, softer now, threading my hands through his locs. “I used to do this when I was little. Went under the water and held my breath for as long as I could.”
His fingers twitch on my waist, but he stays silent.
“I didn’t know what else to do with the silence,” I continue.
“Rylee was gone, and my mom was never home much. Some nights she tied me to the bed so I wouldn’t wander when she left.
Said it was for my safety.” I laugh, but it’s the hollow kind.
“She’d leave the ties loose, so if I got hungry enough, I could crawl to the kitchen. ”
Zayden goes rigid.
“I’d sit in the bath after and try not to cry, because it made my head hurt more. So I learned how to disappear under the water. I wasn’t trying to die or anything—I just…wanted to feel nothing.”
His glassy eyes lock on mine with a kind of haunted tenderness. “You scared me,” he breathes out. “I walked back in and you were just…”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It’s a habit. I didn’t mean to scare you.” My body’s shaking now. Maybe from the cold creeping into my wet skin and hair or from the look in his eyes.
He closes his eyes, like that explanation isn’t enough, but nods anyway. “You’re shaking. Let’s get you dressed.”