I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the desire surging through my veins, the want and need for this man lit me up from the inside. Zaal’s skin brushed against my clit; pounding, circling, teasing. I dug my nails in, bit down on Zaal’s shoulder, and burst apart, as the most intense orgasm of my life tore through my core.
I came, coating Zaal’s cock. The walls of my * clenching, I gripped Zaal’s dick until he began to snarl. The sounds pouring from his mouth were vicious and raw, but everything told me how he felt—that he was feeling the same magnetic draw as me.
Zaal’s unrelenting hips suddenly stilled. His head whipped back, neck corded. He thundered as he came, his cum bathing my * with warmth. It was enough to take me over again, but my attention was fixed on Zaal’s face … on the pure pleasure our joining had brought to him.
As the last of Zaal’s thrusts jerked into me, he dropped his forehead to my shoulder. I ran gentle fingers down his spine. My eyes were closed as he shrouded me with his warmth. Then it was just us.
Joined.
Replete.
Melded.
As we lay in each other’s arms, a tear slipped from the corner of my eye. The betrayal to my family was complete; realized and profound. But so were my feelings for Zaal.
Weeks of watching him pace back and forth in the basement, held captive in chains, gave birth to my obsession. Watching him leech whatever drug they’d pumped in his veins, as he lay—broken—on the floor, had given birth to my compassion. Watching him slumped against the wall, shackled, with lost and lonely eyes, gave birth to my affection. But lying here, taken and warm in his arms; well, that had opened my heart.
Zaal was in my whole heart.
The hammering of his strong pulse began to slow. His soft breaths on my neck evened out. My hands continued to trace the ridges of his spine. Then Zaal lifted his head.
My eyes met his, and my heart cracked.
Tears filled his eyes, a disbelieving expression possessed his face. “Zaal?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”
Two tears fell over his cheeks and trickled down his olive skin, then down onto my chest, rolling over his identity ink. My heart constricted at this devastating sight, then completely shattered when he sucked in a stuttered breath and asked, “I … I am truly free?”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held him tight due to the look of utter disbelief on his face.
“Yes,” I assured, and nuzzled into his neck. “You’re free, Zaal. That man can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe. You’re free. There’s no more pain.”
His arms around my back tightened as I spoke those words. His breathing was heavy and I could feel the water from his eyes dropping into my hair. “Shh…” I soothed, stroking my hands through his hair.
Zaal stayed like that for minutes, still buried inside me. Eventually he lifted his head. I swallowed at the way he stared at me like … like I was his everything. “Because … of you?” he asked.
I held my breath.
“What?” I whispered.
“Free … because of you?”
I pressed my hand to his face. “No. My brother freed you. I was already at the house when you were brought here.” I glanced down. Redness filled my cheeks. “I watched you in the basement. After weeks spent watching from afar, I … I finally had to see you in person.”
Zaal’s frown was prominent as he mulled over what I’d divulged. I stroked my finger along his cheek. “Do you remember anything about the night you were freed?”
Zaal’s face contorted as if he was in pain. His hold on me tightened. “I … I remember pain, rage. I remember the chains and wanting to kill. Then venom and pain leaving my body. Then weakness, confusion.” His top lip hooked into a flicker of a smile, and he added, “Then you.” He exhaled through his nose. “Your small hand on my skin.”
Zaal’s panicked eyes fixed on me. “Why did your brother free me?”