Page 76 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“That’s a lie. You know.”

His voice is a silky, confident rasp that makes my thighs clench together. I can’t say it. Not out loud. I’m too afraid to acknowledge the desires bubbling up within me for the first time.

“Nothing?” Zach moves closer. “Perhaps you want me to kiss that gorgeous mouth of yours.” His hand dances down my shoulder. “Or do you only want my twin brother?”

Breath catching, I’m caught in the sheer magnetism of his gaze. It’s impossible not to see Micah in his features, but the person heating my blood in this moment is Zach. Only him. They are two separate entities in my head, and I want them both.

Cupping my jaw, he tilts my head up. “Perhaps you want me to trace every single inch of your body with my tongue, or for me to taste how wet your pussy is at this moment.”

“Zach,” I gasp, embarrassed.

“What?” he counters. “Don’t deny it. I can see your legs pressing together. Does it hurt, beautiful girl? Is your cunt soaking wet and begging for me to touch it?”

Every filthy, shocking word that escapes his mouth turns me on even more. I’m practically sagging against him, my legs trembling with each throb of pleasure demanding to be relieved. I’ve never felt this intense need before.

“Now she blushes,” Zach teases before growing stern. “I don’t want to trigger you again like I did in the shop. That’s why I’ve tried to keep my distance.”

“I… I don’t want you to keep your distance.”

“Then you have to communicate. If you want me to touch you, I need to know. I won’t lay a damn finger on you without your consent.”

I feel the remains of my uncertainty melt into pathetic mush. Those magic words are all I needed to hear. He’s offering me the one thing I was never afforded. Control. A choice. This is all on my terms, not his.

Leaning into his touch, I breathe out a sigh. “Please, Zach.”

“More specific,” he demands.

My heart judders in my chest, on the verge of breaking free.

“Please kiss me. Touch me. Make me feel whole again.”

“There’s a good girl. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

A hand meets the small of my back, trapping me against the hard planes of his chest. Despite being clothed in nothing but boxers, his skin feels like a furnace. He’s warmed up in no time and his electric touch burns into me.

“I want to bury my face between your thighs,” he purrs. “And I want you to come all over my mouth so I can taste how sweet you are. Reckon you can do that, babe?”

I couldn’t answer him even if I wanted to. I’m dizzy with lust. Years’ worth of pent up frustration and pain have led me to this desperate place. But still, I trust him. I know Zach would never hurt me, not like my husband did.

Tugging the hem of my oversized sweater, he guides it over my head, exposing my plain bra. A shiver overtakes me as Zach eases the leggings over my hips next, planting open-mouthed kisses against my stomach while pulling them off.

His mouth moves lower still, and he plants a kiss against the scrap of white cotton holding him back from my core. I can feel how damp the material is. I’m soaked through just from listening to his dirty mouth.

“Such a perfect angel,” Zach praises, sliding off my panties to expose my bareness to him. “You’re dripping already, and I haven’t even touched you.”

He kneels before me, his quads bulging with muscles that set my pulse alight. I feel oddly powerful, standing over him while he lavishes every inch of my flushed skin.

I’m desperate for the relief of his touch. Nothing else matters, not even the fact we’re both near-naked in Lola’s living room where anyone could walk in. Zach sits back on the rug and lays down, tugging my wrist to pull me on top of him.

I straddle his waist, holding back a moan as the promising steel of his length brushes against my core. It’s an excruciating tease. That sense of pressure has never given me such a thrill before.

“Look at you.” He smirks up at me. “Being on top suits you.”

“I’ve n-never done this before.”

“What? Been on top?”

I bat aside the brush of bad memories. “Yeah.”

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