Zayne followed, reclaiming the scant distance. His lips brushed mine, sending a tight shiver down my spine. “Fuck the rules.”
My eyes widened as the back of my throat tickled with a laugh. “Zayne.”
“What?” His forehead touched mine as his hands tightened on my hips. “Following the rules has never benefited me in the past. All I’ve ever done is follow the rules.”
His skin heated under my hands as I stared at him. “I’m pretty sure working with demons is the opposite of following the rules.”
“Exactly. When I finally broke those rules, for the most part, only good things have come from that.” I wondered what he meant by most part. “There were other rules I wished I’d never followed. Rules that served no purpose other than to control me.”
“But my father—”
“I don’t care,” he said. “Nothing happened the last time we kissed, or when we did more. Nothing happened before the bond, and nothing happened after it. We’re both still here.”
“We are, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“How many rules are there that make absolutely no sense?” Zayne reasoned, and I couldn’t answer, because there were a lot of rules that were a joke. He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through me. “I can’t believe you’re arguing for following the rules. Usually it’s the other way around.”
My lips twitched. “Maybe it’s opposite day?”
“Maybe...” His hands flexed on my hips, and then he shifted me farther up. Instinct drove me to grab his shoulders and curl my legs around his waist. Our bodies were lined up in the most interesting way...and then he pressed against me, causing my breath to catch. “And maybe sometimes following the rules isn’t the right thing to do.”
“Maybe,” I repeated, my skin humming from the contact as I drew a hand up the side of his neck, to his jaw. The bristle of hair grazed my palm as my eyes searched his face. This close, every detail of his features was startlingly clear. “Maybe you’re right.”
One side of his lips kicked up. “I’m always right. Haven’t you realized that yet?”
A grin tugged at my mouth and then faded as my heart thundered in my chest with a yearning that made me feel like my skin would split wide open with it. Zayne was right here, where I wanted him, where I’d spent countless moments wishing he was. Now that he was here, it seemed impossible and yet somehow inevitable.
His hand slid up my side, stopping just below my breast. Every cell in my body seemed to short out as if I were a live wire.
I wanted Zayne.
It was a physical thing, yes. My body burned for him—for his touch, for his mere presence. Each day we were around each other, it became harder and harder to ignore the almost overwhelming need, but it was more than a physical desire. It was him, everything about Zayne. His humor and intelligence. His need to protect those whom others did not find worthy of protecting. The way he sometimes looked at me as if I were the most important being ever created. It was even in the way I knew he had loved Layla, been hurt by her loss but still wanted her to be happy with Roth. It was the moments. When a chuckle turned into in real laugh. When he let himself go, slipped out of the role of Warden and Protector to just be Zayne. It was that dinner and the nights he was there to beat back the nightmares. It was the moments when he helped me forget about Misha.
And all of that...terrified me, because I was... I was falling in love with him, and that was forbidden. Even if it weren’t, it was risky, because he’d loved Layla so fully, and I didn’t know if that meant he had the capacity to feel that kind of love again.
But Zayne wanted me.
I could feel how much he wanted me, through the bond and in the way his body trembled against mine, and I realized he wasn’t fighting this anymore.
And I... I stopped fighting.
I stopped thinking and worrying.
Our lips met, and the kiss was hard and deep, and when the tip of my tongue touched his, I was lost in the low sound that rumbled from the back of his throat.
Zayne pressed me against the wall, his hand cradling my face as he kissed me, rocking his hips against mine. Trapped as I was between him and the wall, there was no escaping the rush of sensations each roll of his hips brought forth. I moaned into his mouth, and whatever control Zayne might have had shattered.
With a powerful surge, he pulled me away from the wall and turned, his mouth never leaving mine as he walked backward. Somehow we made it to the bedroom. He laid me flat on my back, and only then did his mouth leave mine. His lips trailed a path down my neck as his hands slid under my shirt. His fingers curled around the material as he lifted his head. A question filled his luminous eyes, the stark need pouring from every inch of his face.
“Yes,” I told him.
His pupils constricted and then thinned into vertical slits. “Thank God.”
I would’ve laughed, but there wasn’t enough air in my lungs. I lifted my arms and shoulders, and he peeled my shirt off me and tossed it aside. He reared back, staring down at me as his chest rose and fell so heavily, it stretched the fabric of his shirt.
Zayne placed his palm on my stomach, just above my navel. “I’ve said this before, but I feel this need to say it again and again. You’re beautiful, Trinity.”
I felt beautiful when he looked at me like that, when he said my name like that, but then his hand moved, and all I could think about was his touch. His palm coasted up over my rib cage and then higher. My fingers curled into the thick comforter as his thumb glided in maddening circles around a most sensitive area.
Then his mouth followed his hand, and I arched into him, panting as I curled my legs around his hips, moving restlessly against him.
Zayne took his time, leaving me breathless when he finally blazed a path with his lips and tongue down the center of my stomach, lingering around my navel and then going lower. He easily broke the hold of my legs, pulling away as he tugged on my shorts.
I lifted my hips and with one quick movement, I was divested of all clothing. Everything. A heady flush swept across my body, and he followed it with his gaze.
“God, Trin.” His voice was guttural, almost unrecognizable.
Hands trembling, I raised up onto my elbows. “This isn’t fair.”
“It’s not?” He was still staring down at me.
“You still have all your clothes on.”
“I do.” Lashes lifted. “Want to do something about that?”
“Yeah. Yes.” I nodded just in case I hadn’t been verbally clear.
Zayne waited.
Sitting up, I grabbed his shirt and pulled. Material stretched and tore, giving way before I realized what I’d done.
“Oh. Crap.” I let go. The ruined material gaped, revealing taut golden skin. “Sorry?”
“Don’t be.” He chuckled. “That was really hot.”
I grinned.
Zayne tossed the shirt to the floor. I reached for his pants, managing to work the button free and the zipper down before he caught my wrists. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s something I’ve been thinking about nonstop and I’ve been dying to do,” he said, holding my wrists. He came down and pinned my hands to the bed. His mouth covered mine, and then he started all over again. Kissing me breathless, senseless, until, when he let go of my hands, I couldn’t even move, but then he was following that path again, stopping at my breasts and then my navel before drifting lower and lower.
My eyes flew open when I felt his lips against my inner thigh. The sight of him there almost tipped me over the edge, and the feel of his tongue against my skin, drawing closer and closer, robbed me of the ability to speak.
I’d never done this.
Obviously.
A thousand thoughts entered my head, threatening to shatter the heat, but when he stopped, piercing me with those eyes when he looked up at me, I was...
I was found.
“Can I?” he asked.
Heat burned me from the inside. All I could do was nod, and then he said something that sort of sounded like a prayer.
The first touch of his mouth turned my muscles to liquid fire.
A sound came from me that surely would embarrass me later, but at that moment, I didn’t care. All there was in this world was him and what he was doing. I didn’t even know what I was doing until I was clutching his shoulder with one hand and had a fistful of hair in the other. I was moving against him, as much as I could with his hand flat on my stomach, holding me in place as he...as he feasted.
I lost all sense of myself, of control, and it was glorious. No worry. No shame. No fear. Just everything he was drawing out of me with every sweep and dip and—
All at once it was too much—the tightening, the coiling deep inside me. The liquid rush of raw sensations pouring and pounding through me. My fingers dug into his shoulder as I jerked my head back, gasping for air as my release whipped through me. I was trembling and shaking by the time he eased away from me, lifting his head. He planted a hand next to my hip and it took a moment for my eyes to focus on him.
“Zayne,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
A slow smile pulled at his lips. “I think you liked that.” He dipped his head, kissing my stomach. “I know I did.”
“I did.” I swallowed, my heart thrumming. I eased up on my grip. “That’s not all of it, though.”