I brought my hands to his beloved face, kissing him gently. “Me neither,” I whispered. “I reached for you. I wanted you there.”
He smiled softly. “Me too. I couldn’t hear or taste your breaths. Couldn’t smell your skin. So we’ll do what we have to do to move through this time and then we’ll never sleep another night away from each other again.”
Happiness filled my heart. “Yes,” I breathed. “That promise will help me make it through each day that lies between now and then.”
“Me too,” he said. “Me too.”
We kissed for a few minutes, my pulse quickening as he pressed his body to mine. All was right in the world. As long as I was in Zakai’s arms, nothing could harm me.
“I like your bed,” he murmured between kisses. “It looks comfortable.”
I laughed softly. “It is. Come see for yourself.” I took his hand and began leading him there but he turned, moving toward the chair where the clothes I’d bought that day with Claire were draped. Zakai picked up a lacy bra and held it dangling from one finger as he looked back at me, lifting one dark brow. I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Claire says pretty underclothes give a girl confidence,” I murmured. “Want to see it on?” I teased, lifting the hem of his T-shirt and sliding my palms over his flat, ridged stomach.
Zakai dropped the bra back onto the chair and sucked in a breath as I slid my hand under the waistband of his jogging pants, wrapping my palm around the length of him and sliding it upward slowly in the way that made him groan and grind his hips. He leaned his head back, exhaling a breath as he hardened, expanding within my grasp. He whispered my name, the word ending in a ragged moan as I began to stroke him. “You’ve always been confident,” he said.
His words caused my hand to falter but I quickly regained the rhythm I’d been using. Confident? In this? “Yes,” I said. “Always.”
He turned, my hand sliding from his silken skin as he walked me backward toward the bed, my legs hitting the mattress and causing me to fall onto the bright garden of fabric flowers. For a moment he simply stood over me, looking down, his erection jutting out in front of him. The sight of it made my nipples pebble and my blood pump hotly. “I don’t think that’s what Claire meant,” he said.
I blinked up at him, confused. “What?”
He pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes. As he was removing his pants, I pulled off my own shirt and then, naked, Zakai pulled my pants and underwear down my legs, tossing them on the floor. He came over me, and I gasped out a small moan when, without the usual foreplay, he used his finger to enter me. I was still slightly dry and so the friction made me draw in a breath. “Remember the first time I was inside you?” he asked as he began to move his hand, his thumb rubbing the nub at the apex of my thighs in slow, sensual circles, the bliss it caused allowing his finger to glide more smoothly.
“Y-yes,” I breathed, pausing, and allowing my body to relax under the hypnotic effect of the thrill coursing through me slowly, picking up speed. “Of course. I’d watched you touch yourself under the bathing water when you didn’t know I was looking,” I said, my voice slow with growing pleasure, and the excitement of the memory. I’d caught him unaware and the sight had both shocked and fascinated me. My skin had grown hot, my body tingling in areas I’d been mostly unaware of until that moment.
A breath of laughter emerged from his throat. “I was embarrassed but then when I saw—”
“My arousal,” I breathed.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice hoarse. “It turned you on, and I . . . God, I could hardly believe when you—”
“Asked if I could watch you do it again,” I said, the pleasure rising to a fever pitch, my hips rising to meet his magical hand.
Zakai removed his finger and I made a sound of dismay. But as quickly as that, he moved over me, replacing his finger with his manhood. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress as he pressed into me, the pleasure that had dwindled momentarily flaring back to life. He lowered his head to my breast, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking softly as I moaned, growing wetter. After a moment, he lifted his head, bringing his lips to mine and kissing me deeply, his tongue moving in tandem with his thrusting hips.
“Soon you began to touch me too. And you asked me to touch you. To realize that I could bring you pleasure made me feel like a king. It made me think I might conquer the world,” he breathed when his lips broke from mine. My eyes widened as I watched pleasure consume his expression, but even despite the intensity of the moment, there was a far-off sadness in his eyes too and I foggily wondered why the memory was bringing him both happiness and sorrow, when it only brought me joy.