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I placed my hand over my chest and closed my eyes, too overcome by what he’d been through, when fingers ran through my hair.

I opened my eyes. Zaal was looking at me in concern. “Why do you look sad?” he asked in his clipped English. A part of me then questioned how he knew English. That thought vanished as soon as he moved closer still to me.

I shook my head. “I feel sadness at how you’ve been treated.”

His black eyebrows pulled down. I knew he still couldn’t understand the gravity and the magnitude of what he’d been through. I knew he didn’t remember what was done to his family. He was the embodiment of living in the moment, living for now. Of course, I adored that Zaal was embracing and savoring life for the very first time.

“Ignore me,” I said as I waved my hand.

“You are tired?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “Yeah, I’ve barely slept these past couple of weeks.”

Stepping back onto the dock, Zaal reached down and lifted me up in his strong arms. I couldn’t help but laugh as he did so. He placed me down in front of him and put his hand in mine. “We rest,” he said with finality.

I let him lead me back to the house, then I led him up the stairs. I walked him to a spare room. As we entered, I hung back at the door. “You can sleep here.” I pointed to the bed. “You have a bed, Zaal. No more sleeping on the floor.”

I turned to leave the door, when Zaal suddenly reached for my hand. I turned my head to face him. Raw fear was on his face. He pulled me to his chest. “Where do you go?” he asked, his accent thicker as panic laced his voice.

“My room,” I whispered. My pulse picked up speed at the desperate look of need in his eyes.

His hand dropped and his fingers laced through mine. “I come with you.”

I knew this had to be it. This was the moment I stopped myself from falling off the cliff. This was the moment I called Luka and told him that Zaal had got rid of whatever fucked up serum was in his body. That it was time to come and get him.

Or, I’d jump off the cliff, arms wide and free-falling. I’d follow what was leading my heart. Zaal, the Kostava who had seized control of my soul.

Stepping closer to Zaal, I ran my hand down his chest, my eyes following my fingers, and I chose to fall. “You go where I go.”

Without looking at his face, I turned and walked to my room. As I entered through the door, I released his hand and walked to the window. I drew the blinds. The sun was fading now, the bright winter’s day drawing to its end. I paused as my hand hung on the blind’s chain. I was exhausted. I felt exhausted, conflicted, confused, yet at the same time, every cell in my body was zinging to life. Lustful adrenaline surged in my blood, igniting every sense. The cause: Zaal.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned. Zaal was watching me. I knew that look. He wore that look when I’d bathed him, when I’d stroked his cock. Wore it as I’d washed his hair, then straddled his lap.

Reaching my bed, I pulled a nightgown from my dresser. My eyes flitted back and forth to Zaal, who remained standing, waiting patiently at the door. My body was so aware of his overwhelming presence, that my large bedroom suddenly felt full, stifling. But right.

Throwing my nightgown on the bed, I walked to Zaal and took his hand. I led him further into the room. He followed and I pointed to my right. “The bathroom’s in there. You’ll probably want to have a shower.” My face flushed red as I remembered riding him in the basement. My breasts ached and my nipples hardened at the memory. I wasn’t sane around this man.

Zaal’s eyes bored into mine. His lips rubbed together as he watched me. Suddenly his finger was brushing across the apples of my cheeks. “You are red.” His eyes narrowed, studiously taking in every detail. “Why?”

I shook my head, trying to dismiss his question, but he edged in closer. I almost moaned aloud when his hard torso caressed mine. My gaze fell to his olive skin, then the dark edges of his identity tattoo. I felt my panties grow damp. “Tell me,” he said roughly. His thigh brushed against mine and I could feel his hardness. I closed my eyes and fought with all I had to rein in my desire. “Talia…?” he pushed.

Shyly, and looking for something to do with my fidgeting fingers, I ran my fingertip over the zipper of his sweatshirt. “You may need to clean up before you sleep.”

I saw his head nod in my peripheral vision. Reluctantly dropping my hand from his chest, I walked to the bathroom. I’d assumed Zaal had followed, but when I turned to show him the shower, I was alone.

I moved back to the bedroom to see where he was, and I ground to a halt. My lips parted and a shaking breath slipped from their depths.