Page 51 of Zain

Fire channeled through his body, singeing his nerve endings with passion. Her tongue swept inside his mouth, making his cock throb ferociously.

The material surrounding her needed to be gone. He had to touch her. But if he didn’t operate with self-control, this whole thing would be over before it started and he’d embarrass himself.

Breaking contact, he stood, forcing Dana’s hands to fall away. He stalked away from the bed and threaded his hand through his hair. What the hell was he doing?

He couldn’t get involved with her. He was too unstable. Pretty fucking crazy that he couldn’t even trust himself.

“Zain, what’s wrong?” Dana’s soft question pulled at his heart.

He turned slowly, giving the window his back and facing her. She stood, combing her long, dark hair over her shoulder. Her face was pinched with concern, and self-consciousness rippled in her blue eyes. His chest tightened.

She kept a couple feet of distance between them, as if she worried getting too close would make him jump through the window.

“It’s not you, babe. I want to be with you, believe me.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Then why are you upset?” The housecoat swallowed her slight structure, and he had no doubt that if he peeled away the thick material, he’d find her naked beneath. The thought of her bare and so close was almost enough for him to say to hell with whatever anxiety was plaguing him and just do what they both wanted.

“I’m a mess, Dana.” Despite his words, his voice didn’t quake. He wouldn’t allow it. Admitting he was broken was one thing. Her watchinghim crumble was another.

She took a step forward.

He crossed his arms over his chest so he couldn’t touch her. If he did, it’d be game over.

“You’ve had a hard three years, Zain. Nerves are expected.” She shrugged as if she were speaking about someone who’d lost their job. A smile tipped up the corner of her lips. “You make me feel safe. No one’s ever done that.”

He swallowed. Her words wound around his heart, and hell if he didn’t cling to them like a drowning man to a life raft. “I want to protect you. Sleeping with you is the opposite of that.”

This time her smile turned into a guffaw. “How?”

He shook his head and looked away. She wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t even put his thoughts into words, let alone bear his fucking heart.

“Zain.” She was in front of him, her head tilted back to stare up at his face and her fingertips gripping his crossed arms. “I’m not asking you for anything. I just—” She wet her lips. “I don’t want you to be alone in this. You’ve spent a long time being disconnected. You’re the most dangerous man I’ve ever met. You’ve protected me, but I hope you know... you’re safe with me too.”

Violent images fermented deep in his mind. “I’ve killed a lot of fucking people, Dana. More than you can imagine. Some—” The thickness inhis throat grew tenfold. Her fingers squeezed harder, urging him on. He locked his gaze on her, willing to expose the monster he was because if he didn’t, she’d continue with the lie in her head. “Some not guilty of anything but being human.”

Tears clouded her eyes. and the tip of her nose turned pink. She pressed her body closer to his, her abdomen against his groin. He wanted to hate himself for the arousal building inside him. Wanted to deny what was real and natural, but he was losing the battle... and fast.

“You’re human too.”

He scoffed. “Am I? I just told you I’m a murderer.”

She lowered her gaze, then brought her eyes back to meet his—and what was reflected in them stopped and restarted his heart. Raw emotion laced with compassion. “You’re a hero who had to do impossible things to survive, and I don’t blame you for that.”

“I blame myself.”

She drifted one hand from his bicep to cup the back of his neck. “There’s a lot of people who’ve prayed for your return. Me included. Don’t live in the past, where you can’t change anything. Live here,” she breathed, rising onto her tiptoes. “With me.”

He stared into her fervent, teary eyes, and relief spilled over in his heart. A cataclysm of trapped emotions were released.

He needed her.

He belted an arm behind her waist and lifted her. She swooped her legs around his hips, and he caught the neckline of her housecoat and shoved it off her shoulders.

The material parted to dangle at her waist, stuck beneath the arm that held her. He brought his free hand to her breast and closed it over the full, hard-nubbed globe. She dropped her head back, and he lowered his lips to her neck, kissing and sucking her soft skin.

Dana’s back arched in his hold, and she squirmed. “Take me to the bed,” she rasped.

He followed without hesitation. But instead of spilling her onto the mattress, he sat down before reclining with her on top.

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