CHAPTER 216
ZION
“I’ll just be a minute,” she said softly, sliding off the bed with that quiet grace that always seemed to wreck me.
I nodded, jaw clenched, eyes trailing her without meaning to—tracking the sway of her hips, the way her shirt clung to the small of her back.
She didn’t even know what she did to me just by existing.
I groaned under my breath and leaned back on my palms, eyes shut tight.
The moment the bathroom door shut, I let out a slow, jagged breath and dropped my head back against the wall behind the bed.
Something more comfortable.
Fuck.
My mind was already supplying images I didn’t ask for—bare legs, soft fabric clinging to curves, her hair down, maybe a hint of skin I hadn’t seen yet and didn’t deserve to—
How the fuck was I supposed to get through this night?
She was going to come out in something soft and sweet and completely innocent, and I was expected to lie next to her.
On the same bed.
Breathing the same air.
While pretending like I didn’t want to worship every inch of her skin.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, jaw clenched so tight it ached.
This wasn’t about me.
Not about what I wanted.
She needed peace tonight—safety.
And the last thing I’d ever do was take advantage of that.
But Jesus Christ... the thought of her curled up beside me, wearing something that clung to her in all the right places, that scent of lavender clinging to her skin, her breath warm and steady just inches away...
I was going to lose my goddamn mind.
I shifted on the mattress, adjusting the blanket in my lap, not even trying to hide the very obvious problem tightening in my sweats. I’d need to get that under control before she came back out—fast.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and dragged a palm over my mouth.
She needs comfort, I reminded myself.
Not my cock.
Not my hunger.
Not the thousand filthy things I’ve dreamed of doing to her.
I have one job tonight: protect her. Hold her, if she needed it. Let her sleep knowing she was safe.
But sleeping next to her?
Feeling the heat of her body under the sheets, knowing she trusted me enough to let her guard down like that...
Yeah.
It’s gonna be a long fucking night.
The soft click of the bathroom door unlocking made my head snap up.
I turned toward it automatically—casual, calm—
At least, that’s what I told myself.
But the second it opened, all that control shattered.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I staggered off the bed before I even realised I was moving.
She stepped out like a goddamn fever dream—bare legs, flushed cheeks, and my white button-down hanging loose over her frame. Too big on her, too perfect.
One button fastened near her chest, the rest undone just enough to give me a glimpse of smooth skin, the delicate dip of her collarbone, the swell of—
I swallowed hard.
She was wearing my shirt.
The same damn one I’d handed over earlier when she asked to borrow something—
And yeah, maybe I’d peeled it off slowly, hoping she’d notice the abs,
hoping she’d look at me the way I looked at her.
I meant for her to borrow it.
Not completely destroy me in it.
Holy hell.
She’d changed out of it when that message came in,
When everything had gone tense and cold.
But now?
Now she was back in it.
And it hit me like a punch to the chest.
That oversized white button-down swallowed her, hung just loose enough to let my imagination run wild.
Bare legs.
Bare throat.
A couple of buttons fastened, just barely.
She didn’t even know.
Didn’t know what she looked like right now.
Didn’t know what she was doing to me.
Didn’t know she’d just made surviving this night a hell of a lot harder.
But I couldn’t stop staring.
Because she wasn’t just wearing my shirt—
She was wearing the exact fantasy I’d been trying not to have since I gave it to her.
Holy. Fuck.
And I had never seen anything sexier in my entire life.
She looked soft, untouched, and devastating—all wrapped into one.
Like temptation had slipped into my clothes just to ruin me.
My hands curled into fists at my sides, breath short, pulse thundering.
Every inch of me screamed to close the space between us.
To touch.
To taste.
But I couldn’t move.
I could only stare like a man seconds away from falling off a cliff—and wanting to.
I tried a smile.
One that hopefully didn’t scream deranged and two seconds from losing it.
“Hey,” I said, and even I could hear how rough my voice came out.
She smiled—slow and soft—and damn near knocked the breath out of my lungs.
“Hey,” she murmured, her hair falling over her cheek as she tilted her head.
Innocent.
Effortless.
Deadly.
I stepped toward her, hands shoved deep in my pockets to keep from grabbing her like some starved man.
“You, uh… wore my shirt,” I said, aiming for casual and hitting somewhere around desperate idiot.
She looked down at herself and then back at me, shrugging slightly.
“Yeah. It’s so comfortable.”
Comfortable.
God, the way she said it.
Low and husky, like she had no idea what her voice did to me.
And her legs—Jesus.
I couldn't look away.
Bare, toned, glowing under the low light. It was everything I’d imagined and worse.
Or better.
My cock was already aching, painfully aware of how those legs had once been locked around my waist.
I dragged my gaze back up to her face.
Focus.
Get your shit together.
I wanted to devour her—every look, every breath, every shiver beneath my touch. Heat rolled through me, raw and relentless.
When I finally spoke, my voice came out gravelly, rough like I’d swallowed broken glass.
“So… uh, do you want anything before we, you know… hit the sack?”
Hit the sack?
Seriously?
She didn’t answer right away.
Then, slow and steady, she whispered:
“You.”
The entire world snapped still—every sound, every breath, every heartbeat frozen in that single moment.
Even my own heart seemed to stop, caught in a breathless pause.
“Did you hear me?”
Fuck, yes.
I heard every word.
But part of me wanted to make sure this wasn’t some cruel trick of my mind—a dream I’d replayed too many times before.
Her footsteps were soft, deliberate, drawing closer until they whispered right beside me.
Then her fingertips traced a gentle path down to my shoulder, light as a feather but igniting a wildfire beneath my skin.
“You’re what I want.”
Those words—holy hell—they wrapped around me like a silk noose.
She didn’t realize what she was offering, what kind of hunger she was awakening in a man starved for her touch.
I fought to steady myself, clinging to the rhythm of breathing—in and out—but her scent wrapped around me like a vice. It filled my lungs, ignited my blood, and turned every thought to ash.
She looked at me, eyes searching, lips parted—waiting.
Probably hoping for some kind of reaction.
But I just stood there, frozen.
Staring like a love-sick idiot while every inch of me burned for her.
Then her voice shattered the silence.
“Don’t you want me?”
That did it.
My head snapped up.
The haze cleared like a storm breaking open.
Her hand slipped away, leaving an ache in its absence.
“You said you did. You kissed me like you did. You made me think—”
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
My hands slammed down on her waist, fingers digging in like I needed to claim her before she slipped through my fingers.
My body pressed hard against hers, every muscle coiled tight with hunger and fire.
My eyes burned into hers—dark, fierce, and wild—barely containing the storm raging inside me.
"I want you," I growled, voice thick with hunger, rough with everything I’d been holding back.
"All of you—every inch, every secret, every goddamn part you’ve been hiding.”
My hands gripped her like I needed her to breathe, like letting go would kill me.
“I want the way you sigh when I touch you. The way you bite your lip when you're trying not to fall apart. I want every sound, every look, every fucking heartbeat that belongs to you.”
I leaned in closer, eyes locked on hers, barely able to hold it together.
"I want to ruin you for anyone else. I want to be the only thing you think about when you close your eyes. I want to memorize every part of you until wanting you isn’t enough—until I have you. Again. And again. And again.”
Without warning, I pulled her flush against me, crushing her body to mine with a desperate, almost reckless intensity.
My hands tangled in her hair, fingers curling like claws as I bent closer, my breath hot against her skin.
“I’m not asking anymore.”
My lips hovered just above hers, raw and demanding, and in that moment, nothing else existed but the fire raging between us.
My voice was low, rough—heavy with a promise, a hunger that nothing could quell. The air between us thickened with the weight of what we both knew but hadn’t dared say.
This wasn’t just want.
This was need.
And I was done holding back.
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