Chapter 25
MAYA
I wake before Zach does, my naked body tucked against his side. He’s on his back, with one arm thrown loosely around me. I press against him, our bodies slick and soft, smiling to myself that we really did this.
He’s still fast asleep. We got carried away, making love through the night, becoming intimately acquainted with each other’s bodies. How he tenderly explored every inch of me.
My nipples harden just thinking about us, about what we did. How he feels inside me, how his face hardens just before he releases. How it leaves him feeling so spent afterwards.
I watch him quietly, seeing how his chest rises and falls. His face is softer now in sleep, and his signature stubble feels sharper, thicker under my fingers. I trace a line around his eyes, his temples, along his nose, and then his lips, and finally along the strong line of his jaw.
To think I almost let him walk away.
This feels right. I feel like I belong here, in his bed, with him.
It’s not just the sex. What we have goes deeper, stretches further back in time.
I knew Zach when he was just a tall, thin, sixteen-year-old; all sharp angles and quiet intensity and still dealing with trauma while trying to figure out who he was supposed to be.
The man beside me now is steadier, stronger, and more sure of himself.
He has the same decency. The same thoughtfulness, and always, he makes me feel seen.
He asked me why I’d changed my mind, why I’d stopped fighting this. I didn’t answer him properly. I didn’t want to give too much away, but I know exactly why I gave in.
It’s because I see him. Not his name, or his legacy, or the shadow cast by Paul Knight.
I see him.
I’ve seen the parts of him he doesn’t show anyone else—the vulnerability his brothers would tease him for, that his father would see as weakness, and the expectations that burden him.
I see how he shoulders responsibility without complaint.
I see how his loyalty runs bone-deep. It’s because of this that I can never tell him what his father did.
How his actions changed the course of my mother’s life and mine.
He’s become the man his mother would have been proud of.
My mother still carries scars, and I still carry the memory of that night, of being forced to leave a place I finally felt comfortable in, with a boy who made me feel chosen and safe.
And then, when my mother told me the truth, that sense of safety shattered.
I’ve carried the damage of it ever since, along with the resentment for the reason we ran.
For everything that was taken from us without our consent.
This man lying beside me is nothing like his father and the moment I realized this, I gave in because I finally saw that he was still the Zach I knew.
I don’t know what the future will look like, for me, for him, for us. But I know that this man is worthy because he’s shown me time and again who he is through a thousand small acts, not words.
He helps without needing credit, and even with his own wounds, even after losing his mother in the most awful way, he still has a heart of gold. That is priceless. In a world where billionaires corrupt and ruin, Zach stands apart. He’s not cut from the same cloth, and that reassures me.
My phone buzzes, so I check it. Fleur has called six times. I quickly rush into the en-suite and call her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m … great,” I whisper.
“Where are you? I called you a million times and you didn’t answer.”
“I’m still sorting things out,” I say, being vague again.
“Why are you whispering?”
“My … friend is still sleeping.”
“At least give me your address. Have you been kidnapped or held hostage?”
“Neither.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. How are you?”
She launches straight in, telling me about staying with Dave, about the chaos and the comfort of it all. Then she pauses to ask if I’m okay again.
“I am. I promise.”
She can sense I’m being deliberately obtuse, but she doesn’t push. She knows me too well. “We’ll talk later. Oh, I’m moving back in on the weekend. You?”
I didn’t want to think about that, but I saw the email from building management. The infestation has been taken care of and we’ve been given the go ahead to move back into our apartment. “I’ll move then as well,” I say, disappointment sitting heavy in my stomach.
I hang up and check out my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my skin flushed, and my eyes are bright and shiny.
I am happy. Blissfully so.
“What are you doing in here?”
Zach comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, his chest cradling my back. “It’s a weekday,” he murmurs, nibbling my earlobe, making me arch my back against him. “We should get ready to go to work.”
“We should.” I sigh in contentment, not wanting to think about work. Neither of us moves, but his hardness gently nudges into my lower back, his wet tip painting my skin. We could be late. Suspiciously so, if we don’t move now. His hand palms my breast, and I sense he, too, has other ideas.
“I’ll be out by the weekend,” I say quietly.
His hand stills. “And then what?”
The question hangs between us, unanswered. His fingers pinch my nipple lightly, and I bite my lower lip, arching against him again. “I’ll still want you. That hasn’t changed.”
He leans down and kisses the back of my neck, then takes my skin between his teeth and sucks slowly, lingering, branding me with a hickey. “I want you now,” he whispers.
I push back, a wordless answer, signaling my want. His fingers slip from my breast and slide between my thighs, parting me, exploring me. My hips gyrate instinctively, a soft moan slipping from my lips.
“Do we have time?” he rasps.
“Uh-huh.” My eyes fall shut as I roll my head back, surrendering to the feel of him, until he suddenly moves away. The sound of a foil wrapper tearing reassures me, and then he’s behind me, his body heat everywhere. His fingers are on me again, teasing my clit.
“Watch,” he whispers. I lift my head and catch our reflection.
Naked. Him behind me. One hand cupping my breast, fingers rolling my nipple until my knees threaten to buckle.
The other hand is steady and sure between my legs.
I bend slightly over the sink, and he adjusts his angle, inching inside me.
I arch my back, feeling a rush of warmth pooling below, My breath stutters.
“You’re soaked,” he croaks, then starts to thrust, slowly at first, deliberately, eyes locked on my reflection, on the way my breasts move with every measured push, the way my body answers him without restraint.
He bends me over, his hand skating over my back, as he thrusts into me, harder and faster, all the way to the hilt.
It’s beautiful, the way our bodies slam together.
My breaths turn broken and uneven. The tension coils tighter and tighter until I can’t hold it back anymore.
I cry out as release crashes through me, my body shuddering, unraveling around him. He follows moments later, his voice rough and wrecked as he comes with me, buried deep, holding me like he can’t let go.
Afterward, my legs give out and we sink to the floor together. He pulls me back against his chest, cradling me between his legs, his chin resting against my shoulder.
We’re quiet, the room filled only with the sound of our breathing slowly finding its rhythm again. I move first, standing before him, and smoothing myself down.
“We should go. I should go, now. We can’t walk in at the same time.”
His lips part. “I feel like staying at home today, and taking care of you all day long.”
I move away, laughing. “You can do that. I can’t.”
His eyes tell me he wants to disobey, but he doesn’t understand that I need to work and I can’t afford to annoy Katherine.
His steps towards me moving his hand lazily between my thighs, and I feel myself getting ready to surrender all over again.
I shake myself out of it, put enough distance between us again.
“Don’t, Zach. I don’t want Katherine on my back. Please let me get ready for work.” I’m in full-blown practical mode, the time on the clock glaring at me.
“Okaaaaaaaaaaay,” he says reluctantly. “But after work, you’re mine.”