Page 48 of Defeated

Chris’s fingers brush my jaw. “Zoe?”

I blink, and I’m no longer falling back into horrifying memories of a man who chased me from my home. Chris was right. Harlan was no true mate.

Chris’s face is tense, but his eyes are serious. And concerned.

“Yeah?” I whisper.

“If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

I shake my head. “I was just thinking…”

No. I refuse to let Harlan into this moment. I refuse to let him ruin this.

“I don’t want to stop,” I say firmly.

“You’re sure?” His eyes search mine.

I lift my right leg, hooking it over his hip. “I’m sure.”

He holds my gaze, doesn’t break his stare for even a moment as he slowly, oh so perfectly slowly, pushes into me.

And then I can’t look anymore. I’m breathing hard, panting even. My nails cling to his hips as I tilt my head back and let out the moan filling my throat as he stretches me. “Oh God.”

Is it always supposed to be this brain-meltingly perfect? Because if it is, I’m never leaving this bed again.

“Good?”

“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please don’t stop.”

I hear him fighting for breath as I do the same.

He rocks. I move with him. And then his hands are lacing with mine, and he’s lifting them over my head as his lips find mine and his body surges into me.

Again.

And again.

He drives into me, our perspiration coated bodies rubbing together. The headboard bumps the wall with each of his increasingly fast thrusts. I lock my legs around his hips, kiss him harder as he growls in my mouth.

My release is hovering just out of sight. I feel it. My body is tightening, my thighs quivering, and suddenly I can’t breathe.

He eases out of me and pushes inward again. I break the kiss, fling my head back and sob out my release as he strains within me, holding himself tight as he groans deep in his throat.

As he slumps over me and gathers me close, I remind myself this is one night.

Just one night, Zoe.

But a small voice in my head convinces me to wrap my arms around Chris as he wraps his around mine until my eyelids grow so heavy it’s impossible to keep them open.

Another part of me wonders if maybe one night can’t be two nights, or even three, instead.

Or maybe even more.

16

CHRIS

I’ve been awake for an hour, doing nothing but slowly carding my fingers through Zoe’s soft blonde hair when she blinks her eyes open.

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