More than anything, being in his home made me feel like I belonged.
It was crazy, he hadn't been in my life for very long. But I couldn't imagine what it would be like without him. Or maybe I could, and I didn't want to.
"Willow, stay with me. Just for a while. I know I asked before, and you refused, but you can understand my hesitation. Especially after what Elijah did today."
Looking into those dreamy green eyes, I doubted I could say anything other than yes. I wanted to be here. Elijah knew where I lived. He knew where I went to decompress, and he had to have known where I worked.
Zach's home was my only sanctuary. I couldn't blame him for wanting me to stay. Hell, I wanted to stay. I loved the idea of waking up in his arms each morning. Of forgetting all about the life that I led before this one.
"Okay, but only for a little while. This isn't going to be permanent. And if I stay, I have to know what is in each and every room of this house. No more secrets."
No more secrets. It was the one thing that I was not willing to compromise on. He couldn't just forbid me from places in this house and demand that I follow his rules. This had to be a partnership. This had to be something that we could come to an agreement on together. I spent too much time listening to other people tell me what to do and how to live my life.
The stakes were higher now more than ever. I was carrying his child, and I knew that whatever I did, whatever decisions I made, would bring consequences.
"I think that's a fair request. But I have to warn you, when you see what I have hiding in that room you may not want to stay here." There was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite make out, but it almost looked a little bit like fear. What could possibly be in there that would force me to change my mind about him?
I followed him up the stairs into the hallway to his gym, into that forbidden room as he opened the door. When he turned the lights, each section on the wall lit up to reveal the series of weapons, armor, and equipment that I didn't even understand. This was everything that he used. His tools. Much like my brush and easel were mine. This was proof of his mercenary ways.
A part of me wondered if he'd ever killed anyone with the guns hanging on the wall. How many times he'd had to use the knives so neatly cleaned and hung. It made me wonder what kind of man he was that he glorified all of these things and set up a shrine to them in his own home.
I stood there, shocked, unable to say anything, but the look on my face must've said it all. It was one thing to know that he was a soldier, a mercenary. It was another entirely to be surrounded by the instruments that he used to kill.
It was like, for the first time, my brain was registering that he was more dangerous than Elijah. He was probably a killer.
Was he a murderer? I wanted to ask him that very question, but I knew that if I did, I wouldn't hear the answer I was hoping for.
So I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him and kissed him.
I didn't care who he was, or what he'd done in his past. Hell, I didn't care what he was doing now.
I knew Zachary Murdock. He might've done bad things, he might've been a real bad boy, but deep down, he was a strong person, a good person.
A good man.
And I trusted him. I knew who he was, what he was, and I trusted him completely. I probably should have turned and ran away, but I didn't. Not when it came to him.
He made me feel safe. He inspired me to feel strong. He forced me to feel like I could do anything. And I clung to that like it was my only shelter in the storm of my life. He was the only safe space I had.
And I was so thankful for it.
"I love you." It was the only thing I needed to say. Hell, it was the only thing I could say to prove just exactly how I felt. I loved him.
Wholly and completely. And I knew we belonged together no matter what obstacle was in our way.
He didn't grab me gingerly, no, he was rough as he reached for my body and pulled me to him, his kiss conveying all the emotion I felt. This man was a tangled up whirlwind of emotion, and he pulled me into it each and every time.
"Fuck," he said as he looked down at me. "I want to fuck you so hard, Willow. But we can't."
I wanted it, too, desperately, but we had to wait. We had to be certain everything was going to be okay with the baby, and that meant that I couldn't have him the way I wanted him.
But maybe we could improvise just tonight. I grinned wickedly and kissed him again, then I trailed those kisses down his cheek along his jaw and to his neck, where I kissed and nibbled while I teased with my hands.
It was easy to tease him.
His rock hard muscle was the perfect canvas to play with. Each of my fingers dancing along gingerly, dipping in and out of the curve of them until I found my way to his pants where I found him waiting. He was fucking hard as hell and ready for me.
Which was perfect because I was ready to play.
I wrapped my hand around him through his pants and teased his shaft with a light tug as I kissed his neck again. I wanted him. And I wanted him badly. Here in this room of all his weapons and all his gear.
I wanted to show him that I could accept all of what he was. And I wanted to do it in the most scandalous way possible.
So I got down on my knees and I looked up at him. "I want you." I said the words slowly, deliberately, as I grabbed the button of his pants and undid it.
"What are you doing?" he asked slowly as he watched me.
"What the fuck I want." I said it with so much confidence that I startled myself. Damn, who was the woman I was turning into? I didn't know, but I sure as hell liked her.
I wanted to be the girl I was turning into more than anything I'd ever wanted in my entire life.
And it was all because of the big bad boy standing in front of me. He wasn't an asshole, an abuser, or a thug.
No, he was a real bad boy. The kind you could count on in a fight, or when down and out. The type who would fight for their life, fuck a guy up, but live by a real code. The kind that wouldn't hit a girl.
And that was exactly what I needed in my life.
I unzipped his pants slowly and pushed them and his boxers down until all that was left was him and his hard as fuck cock.
Damn, it was so fucking amazing.
I grabbed it and gave it a tug, grinning wickedly as I looked up at him. He moaned, and that was enough to get me going. I put my mouth on him and gave the head of his penis a swirl of my tongue before moving up and down on his shaft.
The groan that came out of his mouth made it worth it. Damn, he sounded so rough and guttural even when he was vulnerable.
It was enough to make me want to ignore doctor's orders and have him anyway. But I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't risk the life I was building for anything. No matter how sweet it would be. Still, I could give him a little bit of pleasure. I could show him how much I wanted him.
I gripped his cock and slid my hand up and down the base while I followed with my mouth, my tongue working him. I wanted to hear him moan; hell, I lived for it. It was why I was doing this to him.
And when he grabbed my head and pushed me onto his cock just a little further, I felt myself start to shudder. He liked this. He wanted more of it. More of me.
I took it all in, as greedily as possible. I was so hungry for him. I wanted to make him cum in my mouth. I wanted to show him that I could make him feel pleasure, not just take it.
I pumped the base of his cock and worked my hand over the base of his shaft until he was moaning, his head back as he took in the sensations.
"Damn, girl. You are so good at this," he growled as he reached down and threaded his fingers through my hair.
"I'm going to cum, baby. You are going to make me cum if you keep doing what you are doing." He was already starting to shake. I could feel it. It was just at the edges of his body, the little tremors.
A part of me felt so victorious as I quickened my pace, each part of me more and more aroused at the prospect of getting him off with just my mouth.
It felt pretty good, truth be told.
"Fuck, Willow." He groaned as he finally came. "Fuuuuuck."
He came for me and I swallowed it all down, not even thinking twice. I wanted him. All of him.
I loved him.
My body ached fully and completely as I made sure that he felt his own pleasure. I wanted him. I wanted him any way I could get him. I didn't care how, I just wanted him. Hell, I need him. Needed it.
I felt like I would die if he didn't feel me. Touch me.
If he didn't find a way to make me whole.
And my little whimper must've told him so.
"Do you want to do something crazy?" he asked suddenly as he looked down at me.