Chapter 19 Kaye
KAYE
Zane is everywhere, everything, as I roll my hips and spear myself on his long, skillful fingers.
I have said before that they are musician’s fingers and I think that holds true.
The way he crooks them, the pads applying constant pressure deep within rings out a note that makes my body sing.
A curse tumbles from my lips. I would go with it if not for his arms banding around me and the tree to prop me up.
The pleasure inside me is already building, my muscles tensing like a coiled spring.
I like that he’s being rough with me, that he fucks with all the intensity with which he fights.
If it feels like this now, what will it be like when he’s actually inside me?
Claiming me? His cock pressed into my ass and I can only imagine what waits in store.
He’s thick, I can already tell that, and sizable too from the way his bulge strains against the fabric of his pants.
My mouth waters just thinking that maybe he’ll let me kiss it all better.
“That’s right, gorgeous. Let yourself go.” He rewards me with another swirl of his thumb across my clit and it feels so good I almost see stars. “I’ve got you.”
A dam inside me breaks at hearing those words. Something I didn’t even know I was holding on to. I buck into his hand twice more, his palm riding my clit when his thumb isn’t delivering those tortuous strokes, and just like a pane of glass, I shatter. He covers my mouth as I cry out.
I only realize I’m crying when his fingers slip across my cheek to wipe a tear away.
“Shit.” My body feels empty the moment he pulls out, and I spasm through one more aftershock, clenching on air. He turns me to face him, gingerly pulling my mask off, then his. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, of course not.”
God, this must be so attractive. Every man wants to fuck the woman who cried when she orgasmed, right? My cheeks are so hot I’m surprised we’re not both on fire.
“That was perfect,” I sputter. “I think I just really needed that.”
“Really?” His smile is dazzling as I nestle into his chest and his arms wrap around me. He presses a light kiss to my forehead, his heart beating erratically under my ear. “We need to talk before anything like that happens again, but for now, I really need to take care of you, if you’ll let me.”
Fuck, that sounds nice. When was the last time I had anyone to take care of me, let alone a man as dark and devastating as this one? Warmth blooms in my chest.
“Can I stay with you tonight, Kaye?” I dart a look at him and those violet eyes are filled with so much emotion, so vibrant that they almost seem to glow in the moonlight. “We don’t have to do anything. I just need to hold you, if that’s okay.”
It’s more than okay. I don’t know what I did to find myself here in this moment, but I silently thank whatever deity blessed me with it.
Is it possible that amidst all the heartbreak and uncertainty, even knowing the day might come when we stand in opposing sides again, that I could find such a perfect moment of happiness?
I shove that thought away. Maybe Charade would be more amenable to these kinds of fights in the future. I wouldn’t mind that at all.
I let the smile spread across my face. I’m sure I look exactly like the deviant I am. “What if I want to?”
Warm sunlight filters through the windows and onto the soft, plush comforter under me. I close my eyes against the blinding vibrancy, but I stay in its path so my skin can drink it in. A gentle breeze caresses my skin.
Zane isn’t in bed when I wake, but traces of him are everywhere.
It’s his room after all. I press my face in his pillow and smell sandalwood and spice, the scent that carried me to sleep, nestled safely in his arms. I roll over, my cheeks heating as I find a steaming cup of peppermint tea waiting on the nightstand, made just how I like it.
I’m going to have to ask Zane how exactly he has that information.
I add “stalker” to my mental list of words that define our relationship now.
Enemy.
Magnetic
Forbidden.
Savior.
Enigma.
Beautiful.
Dominant.
Lover.
Stalker.
I slip out of bed and stretch before beginning my quest to find my clothes.
My muscles ache with a delicious kind of tension.
Zane didn’t fuck me, much to my chagrin, but I came on his mouth and fingers more times than I can count, like he was ravenous for it.
And maybe he was, if he has really wanted me as long as he said he does.
I haven’t felt this rested in years.
I only wish he had let me touch him.
George’s eyes are wide, but alert when she answers her door.
Her curls are wrapped in a colorful green silk scarf, a few of them tumbling playfully around the knot.
Though she’s dressed in a college T-shirt and baggy pajama pants, it doesn’t seem like I woke her up, which is good considering what I’m about to ask her to do.
“Whatever crazy plan you’ve cooked up, I want no part in it,” she greets.
I smirk. “I was wondering if you would mind helping me cut my hair. I need a partner in crime.”
Her arms cross over her chest. “I’m a scientist, not a hair stylist.”
“I know, but you have steadier hands than I do. And I really don’t want my head to look lopsided. Please? I trust you.”
Everything about her softens, from her posture to the rigid line of her brow. “Fine, but we’re doing this in your bathroom and you’re cleaning up the mess. Give me five minutes.”
She turns on her heel, the door swinging shut behind her.
I practically skip across the hall.
“I found a pair of my mom’s old scissors, but we’ll have to sharpen them,” she says in my bathroom a few minutes later.
“Thank my lucky stars she knew better than to try to cut these luscious locks—perfection need not be trifled with— but they should work for our purposes today. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely.” I meet her eyes in the mirror above the sink. “Are you sure you don’t mind helping me?”
“I needed a break from studying anyways.” She ties a towel around my neck in a loose knot and spreads me hair out on it. “And your hair really needs this. What happened?”
I contemplate how to answer as the teeth of George’s comb runs gently through my hair. Her careful fingers smooth down the hair after each stroke, taking care not to pull my scalp.
I’m so tired of keeping secrets, and George is the closest thing to a friend I’ve had in… well, ever really.
“There was a fire,” I tell her. My scalp shivers with delicious vibration with each snip of the scissors. “And if burned hair is the worst that I got out of it, I’d say I’m pretty lucky.”
“If.”
“What?”
“You said ‘if’ it was the worst. So was it?”
Damn, I forgot how perceptive she is. So I settle for an answer somewhere between truth and lie. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”
A smirk tugs at her cheeks, and she lets it for just a moment before composing her concentration for another cut. “You certainly seem like it today. I take it you had a good night with Zane.”
Warmth lights my face. I refuse to look in the mirror, to see whether I am as red as I feel.
I gasp as we roll upright, my thighs bracketing Zane’s head as he delivers a long, slow lick from my opening to my clit, then lashes it in a series of quick, punishing strokes. I can’t stop my hips from undulating, from grinding myself against him in wanton abandon.
My hand covers his as he tweaks my nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I buck wildly as he sucks, as that sensitive bundle of nerves enters his mouth and he laps at it once more.
“It was an interesting night,” I say. Understatement of the damn century.
I want to believe Zane has good intentions.
He saved me from the CCP. The severity of my fate would have depended on who won the bid, but it’s safe to say a gruesome death awaited.
When Charade found me, I thought my worst nightmares were coming to fruition.
I’ve seen the brand of justice bestowed on his enemies.
Instead of repaying me for years of thwarted plans, of being the one thing to stand in the way of his victory, he chose mercy. And that goes against everything I know. As much as I want him, I’m terrified it’s another mask my enemy wears. What if this is a mistake?
Trusting him.
Liking him.
Wanting him.
“You know what I think?” She doesn’t wait for an answer.
“I think it’s always been easy for you to know what’s right and what’s wrong.
You made a decision, picked a side, and that was it.
You never questioned it again. You found a line and didn’t have to think to follow it. Maybe that kept you safe for a while.
“Life isn’t like that. People make mistakes and learn from them.
Some people use that knowledge to help. Others use it to prey on the innocent with lies and deceit, and the trick is that no one can tell which is which.
That’s why you have to keep your eyes open.
Questioning. That’s the only way to keep anyone safe. You learned it the hard way.”
I cross my arms, a chill racing across my skin. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure you don’t.” Her smile in the mirror is warm and soothing, a light balm to any wounds her words pricked open. “All I’m saying is it’s okay to change your mind, and it’s okay not to have all the answers.”