Page 15 of Fractured Onyx

He comes closer, covering me with his whole body when his hot lips meet mine in a kiss that is so deep with meaning, that I can't stop the single tear rolling down my left cheek. Our tongues intertwine in a wild, passionate dance, mad with desire and sharing the same desperation for each other.

I never thought I could feel this way. I never thought I could feel this way withhim.

Safe. Protected. Understood.

At home.

My climax approaches in subtle but steady waves, the delight oscillating through my core long before the peak arrives. I revel in it, my eyes rolling back into my head as I take it all in. I can hear him groaning above me while my muscles clench around him. He never breaks our kiss, even when he reaches his own crest, his thick length throbbing inside me as we drift off into paradise.

Chapter 10

Malia

I can't remember the last time I felt like this.

Comfortable. Safe. Complete.

Rested.

I slept through the night without waking up once. I dozed off quickly, hugged by soft sheets, the aftermath of the rope still pulsating on my skin, a smile on my face—and him lying next to me.

I've only known him to be rough and unyielding, doing what he deems right with little regard for my feelings, but he acted the complete opposite after our mutual climax.

He was gentle and cautious as he removed the rope, affectionate even. He asked whether I was in pain, and which knots he should untie first, before slowly removing the ties on my legs first. I sighed with relief when he carefully stretched my legs out, always observing the reactions on my face as he proceeded to massage my sore skin.

I felt satiated, happy and so, so dizzy. Once the rope was no longer hugging my body, I just lay there, my eyes absentmindedly latched onto a random spot on the ceiling above, my lips parted inhaling deep, calming breaths. I was afraid he'd ask me to get up right away, but he didn't.

In fact, he didn't ask anything of me. He just let me lie there, silently watching me as I processed the strange high I was experiencing.

I was floating, the sensation of the rope still reverberating through my body, still tickling my skin, even though it was no longer there.

And then I fell asleep.

I didn't even notice him covering me with the blanket, and I don't recall the last words we spoke before I drifted off into blackness.

All I know is that I slept. I slept well, very well.

And I'm still here, still in the same bed, and still with him.

I'm still drowsy, my eyes only half open when I turn to find him getting dressed next to the bed. His hair is ruffled and his eyes remain a bit heavy from sleep, giving him a boyish look that's so endearing it makes me smile.

How can he be so much at the same time? So cruel, so hard and adamant, yet so gentle and affectionate? And so incredibly sexy...

Fuck. I can't fall for this man. I can't. I… shouldn't.

Lailah warned me not to—and that's just one of a million reasons why I need to keep a clear head.

"Morning," he says, as he buttons up his shirt. "I didn't want to wake you, but we must go."

"Go?" I utter, drowsily sitting up and trying to fix my unruly hair. My black locks are hard to tame to begin with, but I know them to be an absolute mess in the morning. "Go where?"

"Downstairs. They're waiting for us."

"Waiting? Who?"

He grins when he sees me trying to tame the mess on my head.

"George and the others," he simply says. "There's news about the rendezvous."

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