“What the hell is so funny?” I snap.
He taps my nose gently. “You are, baby. The fact that you think you could actually kill me…” He trails off before doubling over with laughter again.
Did he just boop my nose?!
I let out an infuriated huff. “It’s not funny, Zyran.”
Suddenly, he stops and stands straight again. His eyes are alight with desire as he steps closer to me and pulls me to him. I want to slap his hands away, but the feeling of his rough hands on my skin makes me weak.
“I like the way you say my name.”
And then he’s lifting his mask and devouring my mouth.
I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. He tastes like blood, sweat, and every bad thing my mom ever warned me about. His lips are like the darkest sin, his hands like the sweetest temptation.
Gripping the back of my neck, Zyran breaks the kiss and looks me in the eye. “Hate me if you have to, Kiara, as long as you feel something for me. Don’t stand here and pretend like I don’t mean anything to you.”
He’s right, and that scares the hell out of me.
I feel so many things for him: desire, anger, hatred… love?
No, no, not love. I can’t love someone like him. I still barely even know him, even though I know almost everything about him.
It’s hard to know what I feel for him because I’m so confused.
Like now. I’m furious at him for what happened to Grandma, but I also want nothing more than to feel him on me, for him to drag me upstairs and destroy me.
Seeming to sense where my thoughts have gone, Zyran smirks as he presses his nose into my wrist and inhales deeply. He still hasn’t given me my bottle back, but I’ll forget about it for now.
I close my eyes and lean into him, his familiar smoke and woods scent enveloping me. I could get used to smelling him every day.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I say quietly. Despite wanting to hurt him, it’s important for him to know that I appreciate what he did. If he hadn’t shown up, I don’t know what Ahmad would have done to Yolanda and me, or what Malcolm would have done in the restroom at the club.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for protecting you, butterfly,” he says as he smells my hair, my neck. Having him this close to me makes it so hard to concentrate on any other feelings but the need to be near him.
“You need a bath,” he says against my hair before pulling me toward the downstairs bathroom. I don’t have a chance to be offended by what he’s just said before he sits me down on the toilet and starts running the bathwater. I’m not even bothered by the fact that he knows where the bathroom is.
“I took a shower before I went to the club,” I tell him as he takes my heels off.
“You smell like the club.” He tosses my shoes into a corner before slipping my shirt over my head. I gasp at his quickness, but he doesn’t stop until I’m standing before him completely naked.
I cover myself, but it’s pointless. He’s already seen so much of me at this point, already done so many things to me that I shouldn’t have a reason to feel shy.
“Move your hands,” he says darkly, eyes roving over me predatorily. “Let me see that beautiful body.”
My cheeks heat as I drop my hands to my sides. My nipples are hardened peaks from his intense gaze. He takes his time getting his fill, and I want nothing more than for him to take me right now.
“Zyran,” I whisper, my clit throbbing with need.
He closes his eyes and groans, palming himself.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Kiara.”
I step closer until my nipples graze the front of his jacket. My fingers slowly travel over the front of him, down to his belt buckle, and gently tug. He reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair in his large hand, tugging slightly.
When I reach his rock-hard bulge, his eyelids fall closed, and the most primal growl rumbles deep in his chest.
I smirk. “I think I have an idea.”