“Because you were too sensitive.”
“Twice, after one of the bombs went off, I tried to kill myself. The first time, Sorbacov saved my life. He and one of his friends used me repeatedly as punishment. I was nine. He beat me with a whip after, and I remember the two of them drinking wine and laughing. I crawled over to this pipe that was in the garden. It was jagged. I’d thought about that pipe so many times when Sorbacov would rip me away from building my bombs. I would just look at that pipe. Just stare at it and know someday I was going to use it.”
Zyah closed her eyes and put her head down on his thigh. Honey. She whispered it, tears dripping in his mind.
His woman. The moment he felt her inside him, she pushed away the memories that were so close. Too close. He dropped his hands into the thick silk of her hair. “Baby, I don’t know how I even went there. I didn’t mean to. You don’t need to hear that shit. There’s no reason for it. You get enough just by fixing my mind when the migraines are so bad.”
She stayed still, letting him have her hair, knowing he needed it. Knowing it was one of his favorite things. His fingers tunneled deep into the mass, loving the silk. Loving her.
“We’re connected, Player. The two of us. It’s always going to be the two of us. So there’s a reason. You need to talk, I need to listen. And it goes both ways. Sometimes I’ll need to talk and you’ll need to listen. That’s what couples do.”
She lifted her head slowly. “I’m so in love with you, Player.” Her dark eyes met his and then she stood up before he could react to her declaration. She walked toward the bed with her unhurried steps, the sway of her hips an invitation. The transparent shirt slid from her body and floated to the floor as she moved up to the bed.
Player got up slowly, loosening the drawstring so his pants fell from his hips. He stepped out of them and followed his woman. She was gorgeous. He would walk through fire for her. She walked around to the other side of the bed so she was facing him. She put her hands and knees on the bed, and then, deliberately slowly, she crawled across the mattress toward him. Hands and knees. Her eyes on him. Sexy. Her body undulating. Fluid. Almost like a cat’s.
His gaze jumped to her full tits. He loved her breasts and the way they swayed and bounced with every movement. He was going to mark her tits, brand her with his mouth and teeth. He waited, his hand on his cock, as she took her time, stretching out, feet across the mattress toward the wall, legs wide apart. He wanted to see her inner thighs and that sweet little pussy of hers. He was going to brand those thighs as well. Mark them as his.
She lay back, her head off the bed, neck back so her throat was stretched out. She looked back at him while her hand slid down her body, fingers moving over her left tit and down her belly. His gaze followed. His eyes darkened to lust as her fingers disappeared and she moved her hips, coating her fingers before bringing them out to show him.
“This is what happens when I think about having your cock in my mouth, Player,” she whispered and brought her fingers up toward her lips. “I get so hot and slick for you.”
“Is that what you want, baby? My cock in your mouth?” His cock was so fucking hard he thought he was going to shatter.
She licked her fingers. Her hair hung like a dark waterfall of silk. He stepped closer so he could feel the mass against his thighs. Her head was positioned at the perfect height. He ran the pads of his fingers over her throat as he circled his cock with his fist.
She brought her hand back to her pussy and curled her fingers deep. The sight was so sensual, sending little forks of lightning shooting right through his groin. He caught her wrist as she brought her hand up toward her face, turning her fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. His cock jerked hard.
She reached back with her free hand and stroked his heavy balls. “I want your cock so much my mouth is watering, Player. I can taste you.”
Dark fantasies shimmered through his mind. Erotic images built with every second that passed as he looked down at her. He felt his heart beat through his cock, right into the palm of his fist, and it matched the beat of the pulse his fingers found in her throat. She was his, and she was offering heaven to him. Offering it her way.