Nicole…
"I—I—"
I tried to speak, but my words came out as stutters. All my brain cells suddenly went numb at that moment, and all I could hear, were the unspoken words of Zach.
I swallowed hard and gave him a nod, watching as a smile formed at the corner of his lips.
The truth is I've been drawn to Zach from the moment I saw him at the airport, and there was no point denying the mutual attraction between us.
"You know, Nicole, seeing you in like this is so much better than anything else," he breathed, his voice carried this intensity that made me believe every single word that came out of his mouth.
"Like what?" I whispered. As he closed the distance between us. My voice was barely above a whisper.
"We're not doing this here." He said, before I could ask what he meant by that, I felt my legs swinging in the air, as Zach carried me in bridal style to his room.
When we got to his room, I barely had time to look around, my mind was fixated on Zach and what we were about to do.
He kicked the door open and shut it with one foot. I was amazed by how much strength he had. I felt my feet on the ground again and when I spun around, I almost crashed into Zach's perfectly sculptured body.
I felt his hand on my chin, gently lifting my head until I was staring directly at him. His eyes bored into mine, intense and unrelenting, our faces were so close that I could feel his breath against my lips.
Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding.
His arms circled my waist, pulling me so close that it felt like there was no space left between us, no line dividing where he ended and I began.
His tongue brushed against my bottom lip, seeking entrance, and before I could even think to deny him, I opened my mouth to him, surrendering.
The moment his tongue touched mine, a spark ran through my body, igniting something deep and primal that I hadn't realized was there.
A soft moan escaped me, unbidden, and his grip on me tightened as if he was trying to fuse us together.
One of his hands slid down my body, tracing over my curves until it rested on my thigh. My skin burned under his touch, and before I knew it, his fingers had found their way under the hem of my skirt, creeping higher with every passing second.
My heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out every rational thought, and the world around us seemed to fade into nothingness.
All I could feel was him—his touch, his breath, the words whispered into my ear, low and guttural, like a beast in heat.
I wanted to push him away, to create some distance between us. To tell him I couldn't do this again—not when the guilt inside me was already unbearable.
But like I said, my brain cells had gone numb. That certainly was the only reason I was there with him, in that moment.
My hand moved to his chest, intending to stop him, but the moment my palm touched the hard planes of his body, it was as if I couldn't move away.
My hand stayed there, magnetized to the warmth and solidity of him, even as my mind screamed at me to let go. My lips parted slightly when his hand came to rest over mine, his touch both tender and deliberate.
He lifted my hand, brushing his lips against it in two soft kisses that made my breath hitch. He didn't stop there, trailing kisses up my arm, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every inch of my skin.
By the time he reached my shoulder, my breathing had quickened, and when his other hand slid onto my thigh, his fingers slipping beneath my skirt and inching higher, my body betrayed me completely.
I could feel his warm breath on my neck, his closeness making the world outside blur into irrelevance. My thoughts became foggy, replaced by the overpowering awareness of him.
His scent engulfed me, clouding my judgment, even as a whisper of reason tried to break through the haze. Then, his voice came, low and intimate against my ear.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered. "You don't know how long I've wanted this. Please, if you're not going to see it through, tell me now. Send me away."
He was giving me a choice—a lifeline I should have taken. I knew it was the right thing to do. The fact that he could control himself when I couldn't made me feel foolish and weak. But my body wasn't listening to my mind anymore.
The alcohol coursing through my veins made everything feel warmer, hazier, and the need for him—his touch, his closeness—burned inside me, impossible to ignore.
I should have left. I should have walked away. But another voice inside me, quieter but more insistent, told me I deserved this. After everything I'd been through, I deserved to let go. To feel something other than control, guilt, and pain.
"No," I whispered, my voice breaking as my lips moved before my mind could catch up. "Don't stop."
The air around us seemed to shift in an instant. His eyes darkened with desire, and before I could process what was happening, he lifted me onto the vanity table with ease.
My dress rode high on my thighs, exposing more than I would have allowed under normal circumstances, but I barely registered it. My focus was entirely on him—on the way his hand cupped my face, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.
"Say it again," he commanded, his voice soft but firm, sending shivers down my spine.
I tried to look away, embarrassed by the vulnerability of the moment, but his grip was gentle yet unyielding, holding me in place. "Say it," he repeated, his tone dipping lower. "Tell me you want me."
My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard. The words felt like a confession, a surrender I wasn't ready for, but they tumbled out anyway. "I want you."
The second the words left my mouth, his lips claimed mine in a kiss so consuming it left me breathless. His hands roamed over my body with a hunger that matched the fire building inside me.
His touch was everywhere, peeling away layers of clothing until I was bare before him. For a fleeting moment, self-consciousness crept in, but the way he looked at me—like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen—chased the doubt away.
He kissed me again, softer this time, his lips trailing down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to leave me trembling. His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he moved closer.
My body tensed when I felt him push inside me, the suddenness of it leaving me breathless. I wasn't sure if I could take him, the intensity overwhelming, but he paused, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"You can take it," he murmured. "This was meant to be yours."
As the words left his lips, my mind drifted to Killian and how my first time had been going great until he ruined it.
If I thought sex with Killian was ethereal, sex with Zach left me speechless. I lacked the words to describe how good it felt. How amazing he felt inside me. It was like his dick was made for me.
I went into a frenzy with each movement, with each stroke. And he never failed to tell me how good I felt.
His words, tender and reverent, sent a wave of warmth through me, and I found myself relaxing under his touch.
As he moved, slow and deliberate at first, the tension in my body melted away, replaced by a rising heat that threatened to consume me.
Each thrust sent waves of pleasure rippling through me, building higher and higher until I could barely think. It was like he spoke my body language.
His lips returned to mine, whispering between kisses. "This feels better than I ever imagined. I'm glad I waited for this moment."
Those words tugged at something deep inside me, pulling me momentarily out of the haze. He had waited for this, while I had tried so hard to bury the connection between us. But before I could dwell on it, he quickened his pace, and my thoughts dissolved into pure sensation.
The pleasure built to a crescendo, and when it finally broke, I was left trembling, my vision blurring with the intensity of it.
For a few seconds, everything was quiet, my body and mind completely spent. But as clarity returned, so did the weight of what had just happened.
Guilt and fear crept in, filling every corner of my being as I lay there in his arms. What had I done?