“I know you have a room, but my father asked that a permanent room be made up for you so you can be comfortable in the house.” I give him a quick smile, knowing he’ll love that his room is just across the hallway from mine. “Unlike Lorenzo, you’re here to stay.”
I don’t allow him time to distract me; I leave and make my way from the kitchen toward the main foyer area. We make our way up the stairs; each step builds the eagerness within me. With everyone either out or preoccupied, I wonder what Zane will do to take control of me. After that act of sheer dominance in the garden, I want him to take me, bend me over, and claim me. I want to feel his fingers digging into my hips for days, and I want to have vivid daydreams mid-conversation with people of importance. I want his gaze to set me alight and thrust so much keenness into me that I have to beg to go for cold showers at the most inappropriate times.
“Most of what’s up here is the bedrooms, all of which have en suites so there’s no arguing over that. I’ll show you the rest of downstairs when we’re changed into something drier,” I comment as we head down the long corridor. “You know where my room is, your door is parallel to that.”
“That makes this easy then,” he utters, and I find he spins me around on the spot, throwing me against the white walls that run along this landing.
Zane captures my hands, lacing his long fingers through my dainty ones and pushing them against the wall above my head. Under the silence that surrounds us both, the deafening echo of our beating hearts are strong and mesmerizing. I look up into his deep blue eyes and lose my sanity a little more.
“I’m showing you your room so you can get changed,” I breathe, unable to tear myself away from his watchful gaze or fight against his hold on me.
"Sweetheart, your clothes would look much better on my bedroom floor than your own.” His words are thick and heavy on my hearing, and my heart slows its pace as if daring itself to beat and break the heat manifesting around us. “I can show you if you like?”
“Go on then,” I dare him.
He leans to the right a little as he does so, throwing the door to his room open. I slip from in front of him and into the room, taking off my damp shirt and tossing it aside. I walk across the room, only turning when the door closes and subsequently the lock sounds. I stand before Zane in nothing but sweats and a grin. As his eyes roam over my figure, I begin to push on my waistband, forcing my pants down and my panties with it. I have no idea how long we have, but I don’t want to waste any time. The electric buzz in me is raging war and my greed is not far from sending me flying across the room to wrap my body around his.
“Strip,” I command as I stand stark naked and full of confidence.
Slowly, he places both hands on the bottom of his shirt and pulls it up and over his toned body, revealing the scars from when he was shot. My heart flutters with remembrance, but admiration destroys the desolate pang that’s about to take over. As he loses his own sweatpants, I’m left with this beautifully marked man. He’s strong, resilient, and he’s all mine. I lick my lips as my eyes fall over the contours of every muscle until I’m met with his length standing up erect.
I’m not first to react, Zane is, and when we meet, he holds me tight, immediately crashing his lips onto mine and causing my legs to weaken. I allow him to dictate, but only because being out of control has never felt as good as it does right now. Zane surprises me by pulling away and framing my face.
“I was a stupid man ever to make you go to someone like Lorenzo. I was a stupid man to ever walk away.” His assurance is met with a look of fervor and passion. “I don’t care what you’ve done, Amelia. I don’t care how fucked up it is, I just care that I have you here in my arms. This is where you’re meant to be.” I know he’s right, which is why I don’t reply or argue. “I’m right where I should be, too.”
“All talk and no action,” I finally comment, giving him a remarkable grin. There’s a teasing ebb of sensuality building within and I just want to goad him to get what I want. I want a reestablishment of what we were, of what we can be. I want a resolve to what never ended by the tennis courts. I want whole satisfaction. “You’re a sweet talker, Mr. Maverick, but sometimes I wonder if you’re all talk and no action. You’re strong, you’re powerful, but I have yet to feel truly dominated by you, Zane,” I tell him, antagonizing his libido. “You say you want to feel me clench down on your cock, but maybe I want you to restrain me like you used to. I want you to fuck me, Zane, so I leave this room knowing that no man will ever, and I mean ever, come close.” I run my hands down his chest, the tips of my fingers trailing invisible lines over his body. “No matter how many times they try.”